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Updated: July 17, 2025
Any day, any hour, some one besides herself might discover that likeness. Why, for all she knew the place buzzed with it already. Sooner or later some one would recognize Mrs. Wade as Bridyeen Sweeney. Then it would be easy to piece the old story together. Already people had noticed that Stella had the Comerford colour, which had been, in her own case, the Creagh colour.
Lady O'Gara gave a quick glance at her son. There was a strange light on his face. He put out his hand and steadied Mrs. Comerford, helping her to a chair. As she sat down, the long black draperies floating about her, she looked more than ever a tragedy queen. "You have your marriage certificate?" she asked with an effort. "I have never parted with it."
So she told him the tale of the day's happenings, in a quiet easy flow, now and again patting his hand or stroking his forehead with her delicate finger-tips. "Good Lord, what a kettle of fish!" he groaned when she had finished. "And you take it so easily, Mary! I wish to the Lord, Grace Comerford had never come back. It was an ill day." She almost echoed the wish.
A low drunken tramp went to the police with a ridiculous story that your husband was privy to the death of young Terence Comerford, poor fellow! Ridiculous! when every one knows there was the love of brothers between them.
The door opened. In came Mrs. Comerford, tall, in her trailing blacks, magnificent, the long veil of her bonnet floating about her. She looked from one to the other of the group with amazement. "I am surprised to find you here, Mary O'Gara," she said. "But perhaps you come to see my child. Where is Stella? I have brought the carriage to take her back to Inch."
The following officers, who were present at the relief of Lucknow on the 19th of November, received also the "Relief of Lucknow" clasp: Lieutenants Vaughan, Young, Salmon; Captain Grey, RN; Reverend EL Bowman, Dr Flanagan, Mr Comerford; Messrs. MA Daniel, REJ Daniel, Lord Walter Kerr, Lord Arthur Clinton, and Mr Church, midshipmen; Messrs. Bone and Henri, engineers; and Mr Brice, carpenter.
Then her expression softened as she saw the shadow on Terry O'Gara's candid face. "Give her time," she said. "If your father and mother will not mind her being my daughter why I think you should ask her." "Where have you been hiding yourself all this time?" Mrs. Comerford asked, with a certain roughness. "If I had known where you were I might have extracted this story from you earlier.
The room looked over the lawns and paddocks at the back of the house. She had not heard any sounds of arrival, but the bedroom door opened suddenly and Mrs. Comerford came in. "Clinch told me I should find you here, Mary," she said: and the two who had loved each other and parted, with cold resentment on one side, tears on the other, were looking into each other's eyes.
Comerford had liked the blinds drawn, all the trifling things which mean so much to certain orderly minds. She was in the bedroom which had been Mrs. Comerford's, was to be hers again. The room which had been Mary Creagh's was prepared for Stella. The pink curtains which she remembered as faded had been laid away and new pink curtains hung up. The old ones were riddled with holes.
Comerford, who had quarrelled with her over her choice of a conventual life long ago. Mary Benedicta had answered the letter with another full of the milk and honey of a compassionate tenderness. The best solution of the problem Lady O'Gara could find was that Stella should go for a time at least to the Convent. Terry had not written. Terry would have his say in the matter presently.
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