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Updated: May 15, 2025
There is a little one, rather lame, in the last litter. His leg got hurt somehow. I am sure I can have him. You will be good to him." Mrs. Wade had drawn back into the shadow. The one window lit the space across by the fireside to the door and the other portion of the room was rather dark. But Lady O'Gara had an idea that the woman's eyes leaped at her. "I saw the young lady," she said.
You won't be afraid with him?" "Not with Mr. Kenny, m'lady," said Susan with a flattering fervour. Lady O'Gara went on her way, refusing the offer of Georgie as an escort. She was quite safe with Shot, she said; adding that she was not at all a nervous person. She was a bit puzzled now about her panic coming up the dark road, under the trees, from Waterfall Cottage to the South lodge.
As though it had been a noxious reptile which had bitten her she flung it from her into the heart of the brightly burning fire of wood and turf. A little flame sprang up and it was gone, just as Sir Shawn came into the room. They had the breakfast room to themselves now that there were no visitors, but Lady O'Gara hesitated to speak.
The MS., dedicated to O'Gara, is authenticated by the superiors of the convent; from that original two editions have recently been printed in both languages. These annals extend to the year 1616, the time of the compilers. Originally they bore the title of "Annals of the Kingdom of Ireland," but Colgan having quoted them as "The Annals of the Four Masters," that name remains ever since.
He showed openly his preference for an old woman, as Mary O'Gara called herself in her thoughts, wincing a little. "I've discovered that Miss Creagh knows Gillespie, the young doctor who has defied all the Army Regulations. It was quite an excitement in India. The Rajah of Bundelpore had a very bad attack of Indian cholera one night. His own doctors could do nothing for him.
The fatted calf had been killed for the girl's return. Lady O'Gara remembered how she had anticipated it, and had thought of what Eileen liked, the special food and sweets, and so on.
There was nothing assertive about it. It was quite unconscious. She seemed profoundly agitated by Lady O'Gara's visit, her colour coming and going, her eyes dilated. She had put out a hand as Susan Horridge went away, almost as though she would have detained her by force. "Please forgive my coming in like this," Lady O'Gara said. "I was knocking for some time, but you did not hear me.
She leant forward and said in the same agitated way: "You wouldn't be bringing Mrs. Comerford?" "No, no," said Lady O'Gara. "I shall not bring Mrs. Comerford." "I knew her long ago. She was kind, but she was very proud," Mrs. Wade said, dropping back into the shadow from which she had emerged. So it was of Mrs. Comerford she was afraid! What was it? Conscience?
Why, any one might have known that Stella was a Comerford by that colour; not the child of some dark Frenchman. "You stand up to me better than your father ever did," said Mrs. Comerford in white and gasping fury. Had she no pity, Mary O'Gara asked herself; and remembered that Grace Comerford's anger was sheer madness while it lasted. She had always known it.
With King Brian O'Neil fell, on that crimson day, the chiefs of the O'Hanlons, O'Kanes, McLaughlins, O'Gormlys, McCanns, and other families who followed his banner. The men of Connaught suffered hardly less than those of Ulster. McDermott, Lord of Moylurgh, Cathal O'Conor, O'Gara, McDonogh, O'Mulrony, O'Quinn, and other chiefs were among the slain.
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