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Updated: June 19, 2025
"Come," Lady O'Gara said, at last. "We must find some water to bathe your face, you poor child. You are coming back with me to Castle Talbot. You are mine now. I shall not give you up again." Stella shook her head; she stooped and kissed Lady O'Gara's hand as though she asked pardon. The swift dipping gesture like a bird's was too painful, recalling as it did the bright Stella of yesterday.
But, after all, Shawn had married where he loved. Why should not the boy have the same felicity? Stella had been pushing her small soft way into Mary O'Gara's heart. She knew now that Eileen could never have been the little daughter she wanted. "You think she would mind that?" His eyes leaped at her. She felt like one who had burnt her boats. She would not look before or behind.
Later on Dr. Costello corroborated Reilly's verdict. "Something has worked a miracle," he said, patting Lady O'Gara's hand kindly. "I should have said yesterday that we could not keep him very long. There is a marked change for the better. I've been watching Sir Shawn these many years back and I was never satisfied with him." "There! there!" he said as the joy broke out over her face.
As I sez to the little lady...." Terror seized upon Lady O'Gara. What had the old woman said to Stella? "You didn't tell the young lady anything?" she said, very gently, remembering not to frighten the frail old creature before her. "Not me. I said no more than 'Your Mamma's left." She looked with a peering anxiety into Lady O'Gara's face, as though she had just begun to doubt her own wisdom.
He got ... angry at last ... and now... I know I loved him ... all the time." Lady O'Gara troubled as she was, could not refrain from smiling, but as Eileen's tears apparently had overtaken her during the process of brushing her hair, and the long mantle of greenish grey, silver-gold hair hung about her face, Lady O'Gara's smile passed unnoticed.
She remembered that Anne Creagh had said that Eileen would always get the best of things! To Lady O'Gara's eyes, the demure little girl, with a golden plait hanging down each side of her face, and the large blue eyes, had looked like a little Blessed Mary in the Temple of Albrecht Dürer. Perhaps she had not chosen.
"Since you wouldn't write, dearest Cousin Mary," she cried in a voice strangely affected to Lady O'Gara's ear, "I've come to see what is the matter. And I've brought my husband." A shortish man with a keen, clear, plain face came from behind the shadow of Eileen and her furs. Lady O'Gara had a queer thought. She recognized Eileen's furs for sables. She had never attained to sables.
'Tis a good day that's in it, ma'am, to see you home again with such a beautiful young lady too. She'll make the house lively. The first thing she did was to fling her arms about Shot's neck, Lady O'Gara's dog, ma'am. For all he's a proud, stand-off dog, he licked her face." "Now, don't spoil Miss Stella. Every one spoils her, so I suppose there's no use expecting you to be the exception."
Eileen had been notified of Sir Shawn's illness and had written expressing her concern. But Eileen never could write a letter. The formal and ill-constructed phrases conveyed nothing. Somewhat to Lady O'Gara's surprise Eileen had not offered to return. But after that formal letter another letter had come, quite a thick one, and it lay still unopened amid the accumulated letters. "Poor Eileen!
Hardly any fever; she kept watching her new nurse as though she dreaded letting her out of her sight." "Ah that is good!" There was another lightening of the heaviness of Lady O'Gara's heart. Some mothers in her place might have had an unacknowledged feeling that Stella's death would not be altogether the worst solution of a difficult situation.
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