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Hartrick was already beginning to understand his Irish relatives; and as to Stephanotie, she sprang from the carriage, rushed up the steps, and thrust a huge box of bon-bons into Squire O'Shanaghgan's face. "I am an American girl," she said; "but I guess that, whether one is Irish or American, one likes a right-down good sweetheart.
What they all wanted was to talk not only about their shop but their own particular counter in it, and no sooner was my back turned than there they were in the same groups again, Hartrick and Sullivan watching over Phil May, supported by Raven Hill and Edgar Wilson, both then deeply involved in youth's game of shocking the bourgeois by showing on the pages of Pick-Me-Up how the matter of illustration was ordered in France, and presently starting a magazine of their own to show it the better, and to do their share as ardent rebels in the big fight of the Nineties.
"They none of them care," thought Nora. "I don't believe Uncle George will do anything; but all the same I have got to ask him. He was nice about my letter, I will own that; but will he really, really help?" "A penny for your thoughts, Nora, my dear," said Mrs. Hartrick at this moment. Nora glanced up with a guilty flush. "Oh, I was only thinking," she began. "Yes, dear, what about?"
Molly rose, dropped a mocking courtesy to her mother, and left the room. "Linda dear, run after your sister, and tell her that, for her impertinence to me, she is to remain in her room until dinner-time." "Oh! please forgive her this time; she didn't mean it really," burst from Nora's lips. "Nora!" said Mrs. Hartrick. "Oh! I am sorry for her; please forgive her." "Nora!" repeated her aunt again.
"I am going to Ireland to-morrow, Grace," said Mr. Hartrick to his wife that evening. "To Ireland!" she cried. "What for?" "I want to see my sister Ellen. I feel that I have neglected her too long. I shall run over to O'Shanaghgan, and stay there for two or three nights." "Why are you doing this, George?" said Mrs. Hartrick very slowly. Mr.
I must go; you cannot keep me here." Just then there came a loud ring at the hall-door. "Doubtless that is the telegram," said Mrs. Hartrick. "Run, Linda, and bring it." Linda raced into the hall. In a few moments she came back with a telegram. "The messenger is waiting, mother," she said. Mrs.
Flowers' school was in itself a certificate of respectability, and Molly had been very good lately that is, for her; and if she and Nora wanted a special friend to spend the afternoon with them, it would be possible for Mrs. Hartrick quickly to decide whether the invitation was to be repeated.
Nora ran to him, and he put his arm round her waist. "Now then, Nora, as the carriage comes up, you help me with the big Irish cheer. Hip, hip, hurrah! and Caed Mille a Faitha. Now then, let every one who has got a drop of Irish blood in him or her raise the old cheer." Poor gentle English Mrs. Hartrick turned quite pale when she heard these sounds; but Mr.
Hartrick hesitated for a moment whether she would say anything further; but then, hoping that the tired-out girl would sleep, she went gently from the room. In the passage she thought for a moment. "Why did Nora pack that little bag?" she said to herself. "Can it be possible but no, the child would not do it. Besides, she has no money." Mrs.
"I thought she might have some good masters and get some valuable lessons while she is here," said Mrs. Hartrick. "Would you believe it, George? that little girl of sixteen calmly informed me that her education was finished. At the same time, she said she knew no language but her own, and just a smattering of that dead tongue, Irish.
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