United States or Norfolk Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Her face was pale, and there were tears in her eyes; her attire, by no means so magnificent as that which Michael had depicted to himself, was somewhat disordered; she had not even taken the trouble to assume a hat, and her curly hair was blown about her brow, so that she looked very like the little Roseen of old. "Michael Clancy," she cried, "what did I do to ye that ye wouldn't come to see me?"
"Come, come, come!" he repeated, in warning tones; "this won't do, miss." Roseen tossed her head, and gave her roll of butter two or three little pats. "If I bid you take Mr. Quinn, you'll have to take him," said Peter angrily. "I won't, then," retorted Roseen, and she finished off one little roll and fell to preparing another.
"An' a very good thing too," retorted Peter. "We'll be shut o' the whole of them out-an'-out, that way." "Ye're a regular hard-hearted old Turk," cried Roseen, "that's what ye are! The whole countryside will cry shame on ye! It is outrageous, so it is! 'Pon me word, ye're as bad as Cromwell."
"Ye have no call to be frettin' that way; let him say what he likes, bad luck to him! Sure, ye won't be havin' Mr. Quinn, Roseen, will ye?" "N no," said Roseen. "Me grandfather says I'm bringin' his white hairs with sorrow to the grave." "Ah, the ould gomeril!" retorted Mike unsympathetically. "Bedad, what hairs he has isn't white at all, but red as carrots! Don't ye be listenin', Roseen, asthore.
Without being handsome, there was something attractive about him an alertness, a vigour in the well-knit limbs, a candour and kindliness in the expression of the open face, a tenderness, moreover, in the blue eyes as they rested on Roseen which would seem to account for the fact that these former playfellows were now lovers.
Pat Clancy, who had maintained a certain dignified reserve all day, not quite liking the notion of being regarded as Roseen's pensioner, and not being certain whether this new move did not involve a sacrifice of independence, was now fairly overcome. "God bless you, me child!" he said brokenly, "ye were always the good little girl, Roseen. Herself and me will be quite at home here."
Roseen glanced down, apparently wrestling with some inward emotion, and presently observed in a small, strangled voice: "Sure, he is twenty year older nor me." "What matter?" said Peter; "he'll be all the better able to take care o' you.
I was afeard that every wan would be talkin' an' tormentin' us." "Indeed, it wouldn't have become you at all," responded Mike, still standing, hat in hand, and speaking with a kind of aggressive humility, "and it 'ud be far from me to be expectin' such a thing." Roseen knit her brows and tapped her foot impatiently, the angry tears now standing on her cheeks.
The flush mounted to Roseen's very temples and then died away; she paused a moment to steady her voice before venturing on a query. "I seen Mr. Quinn goin' down the road a little while ago is it him?" "Ah, you little rogue! you were on the lookout, were ye?" cried Peter jocosely. "Well, you are right; it is him. You are the rale lucky girl, Roseen! You'll be the richest woman in the town-land."
Clancy, taking down the flat loaf from the shelf in the corner; "wait till I put a pinch o' sugar on it. I'm sorry I haven't butther for ye, but there isn't a bit in the house at all. There now." "Thank you, ma'am," said Roseen, extending an eager hand. "Ye're welcome, darlint. Here, Mike, ye'd like a bit too, wouldn't ye?" "Aye," said Mike, drawing near likewise.
Word Of The Day