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Updated: June 22, 2025
It's a pity to think of that poor girl all alone in a great barrack of a place like Ballymoy House, without a civilised creature to speak to." Meldon left the Office very well satisfied with himself. He went next into the hotel. The day was hot, and there was very little going on in the town. The streets were almost empty, for the country people were busy on their farms.
The address turned out to be very large indeed and most magnificently coloured. In the top left-hand corner was a small photograph of the market square of Ballymoy, without the statue. In the right-hand Corner was a picture, supplied by Mr. Aloysius Doyle, of the statue itself.
Why shouldn't he?" "Why should he put it up here?" said the Major. "What brings him to Ballymoy?" "I expect," said Dr. O'Grady "mind, I don't know for certain but I expect that he's come to the wrong place, mixed up Ballymoy with some other town, with the town in which Regan was really born.
"You may think that you can play fast and loose with a poor girl's affections in that sort of way, and so you might if she was lonely and unprotected. But as it happens that judge who came to Ballymoy the other day turned out to be Miss King's uncle, and he's quite determined to see this business through. I was telling him about it this morning.
"Is Ballymoy such a nursery of heroes," said Mr. Billing, "that you can afford to neglect the memory of the great General, the patriot statesman, the deliverer of Bolivia?" "Speak up, Thady," said Doyle, "and tell the gentleman why there's no statue to the General in Ballymoy." Gallagher cleared his throat and began to speak.
'Good-bye. Hyacinth heard him, but his voice seemed far off, and his words meaningless. 'Take my advice and run down to Ballymoy at once. Don't hang about Finola any more. She's a splendid woman, but she's not for you. If you married her you'd be perfectly miserable. Not that I think she'd ever marry you. Still, she might. Women do such odd things.
It's one o'clock, and Sabina ought to have the bacon ready by now if she started cooking it the time I told her." Ballymoy House, save for the occasional presence of a fishing tenant, has been unoccupied for years. Two men are employed to keep the grounds tidy, and Mr. Simpkins does his best to see that the work is done. But in spite of his exertions the place is in a condition of disorder.
There's no reason in the world that I can see why he shouldn't go up to Ballymoy House and propose this afternoon. Then I must see O'Donoghue and make arrangements about to-morrow. I shall also, thanks to your churlishness, have to borrow a bicycle for myself.
The Ballymoy mill was the property of Doyle. He bought it very cheap when the previous owner, a son of the last miller, lapsed into bankruptcy. He saw no immediate prospect of making money out of it, but he was one of those men they generally end in being moderately rich who believe that all real property will in the end acquire a value, if only it is possessed with sufficient patience.
I don't in the least wish to deny that. I never was more uncomfortable in my life. But what I want to know is, what possible motive he had for doing it. Unless he's an absolute lunatic, and you say he's not that " "No. He's sane, though I think he's decidedly eccentric." "Then he must have had a motive of some sort. He plainly doesn't want to have me here in Ballymoy. Now why not?
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