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Updated: June 18, 2025
Henry fled from him, and, scarcely knowing what he was doing, ran across the fields towards Hamilton's farm. As he went up the "loanie," he remembered that Sheila had struck him in the face in her rage at his cowardice, and he stopped and wondered whether he should go on or not. And while he was waiting in the "loanie," she came out of a field, driving a cow before her.
"Perhaps by this time," he said to himself, "she will have forgotten my funk!" But although he frequently loitered in the roads about the "loanie," he never met her, and it was not until he said some casual things to William Henry Matier that he discovered that she was not at the farm. "I heerd tell she was visitin' friends in Bilfast!" Matier said, and with that he had to be content.
I couldn't help it, Sheila, and the worst of it was I didn't know what to say to you. And then, last night ... when we were walking up the 'loanie' together and I was holding your arm ... you know!... like this...." He took hold of her arm as he spoke and pressed it in his.... "I felt like ... like...." "Like what?" "I don't know. Like anything. You will marry me, Sheila? You do love me?..."
Of course, she was not the first, and dear knows she might not be the last.... "I'll never love any one but you, Sheila!..." "Wheesht will you, or my aunt'll hear you!" "I don't care who hears me!..." "Well, I do then. Come on down the loanie a piece, an' you can say what you like. I love the way you talk ... you've got the quare nice English accent!"
They had moved to the side of the "loanie" and he mechanically stopped and plucked a long grass and began to wind it round his fingers. "I think and think about things," he murmured at last. She put out her hand and touched his arm. "Poor Henry," she said. He threw the grass away and seized her hand in his. "Then you'll forgive me?" he said eagerly. She nodded her head.
He followed her across the farmyard and through the gate into the "loanie." "My father wouldn't like to hear you saying that," he said. "Why?" she asked. "Does he not like the English way of talkin'?" "Indeed, he does not. He loves the way you talk, the way all the Ulster people talk!..." "What! Broad an' coarse like me?" she interrupted. Henry nodded his head.
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