“she’s always been kind of off-ish and partic’lar for a gal that’s raised in the woods.”

luncheon was over. the elders of the party had returned to the drawing-room, where they were seated in a state of contented satiety, discussing their servants, their gardens, and the church of ireland sustentation fund, according to their age and kind.

in the billiard-room, a four-handed game was going on. willy and miss watson were playing connie and mr. barrett; and, as billiards was not one of my accom{219}plishments, i preferred, notwithstanding polite offers of instruction, to sit in a window-seat and look on.

nugent at first undertook the office of marker; but as he tried at the same time to explain the intricacies of the game to me, complications in the scoring soon arose, accompanied by violent altercations with the players. finally, he was expelled with ignominy, it having been proved that he had marked miss watson’s most brilliant break to her opponents.

“i thought i should never have come alive out of that,” he said, sitting down in the window beside me; “miss watson looked as if she was going to convince me with the butt end of her cue, and i have no ambition to have a row with willy. i shouldn’t have much of a chance.”

i thought, nevertheless, that he looked well able to take care of himself, as he{220} leaned back against the window-shutter, and began to roll a cigarette, while the sun slanted in upon his light, firm figure and well-shaped head, striking a pleasant dazzle into his blue eyes as he glanced at the players.

“do you know mr. jimmy barrett?” he asked, in cautious tones, as that youth, his freckled face pink with anxiety, sprawled across the table to play his stroke.

“no, i don’t know him, but i remember seeing him out hunting.”

“he’s a very fine rider, but that’s about all he’s good for. from the appearance of things at present, he will have cut the cloth in the course of the next five minutes. if connie is going to give lessons in billiards, she ought to keep a private table for her disciples.”

nugent had laid his tobacco-pouch on the seat beside him while he was speak{221}ing; it was covered with crimson plush, and his monogram, sumptuously worked in gold thread, adorned the flap. i thought it, on the whole, rather vulgar.

“i am thankful that i was not decoyed into playing,” i said. “i must say all my sympathies are with mr. barrett; he did not want to play in the least, and i am sure he does not look as if he were enjoying himself.”

“i deny that he was decoyed into playing,” said nugent, argumentatively, lighting his cigarette and leaning back again with an air of leisurely satisfaction; “and, anyhow, he is not a case in point. the mere fact that you are an american is about fifty points in your favour. you would probably lick all our heads off by the sheer force of instinct and power of intimidation.” he took up his tobacco-pouch, and looked at it absently. “yes,{222} you’re a great nation. for instance, this very fine thing is of yankee origin, and i don’t believe the worker of it had ever done anything of the kind before. it was done, as the irishman played the fiddle, ‘by main strength,’ and yet look at it!”

“it’s very gay,” i said, regarding it with chilly disfavour.

nugent looked at me meditatively, as he put it back into his pocket. “does that mean professional jealousy?” he asked. “are you also a worker of tobacco-pouches?”

“i can’t work any more than i can play billiards,” i said, with some enjoyment of the admission.

“no? what a pity!” said nugent, a little inattentively. “do you know, i once taught an american girl billiards, and after she had played for a week, she used to beat me pretty nearly every time.{223}”

“but i think i told you before i was not an american girl,” i said energetically. “every one here persists in calling me american, and i am nothing of the kind; i am irish!”

“it seems to me you are very anxious to ‘go back on’ your native land,” he said, looking at me through his half-closed eyelids; “you won’t allow yourself to be called american, and you don’t even speak the language.”

“that is the regular british fallacy. you all expect us to talk through our noses, and say, ‘wal, stranger.’”

“not at all. i am awfully well up in modern american fiction, and i know all about the boston young woman and her high-class conversation. i assure you, there is no one on earth that i should be so much afraid of.”

“i am sure you took that idea from{224} henry james’s ‘bostonians,’ but they are not all as superior and conscientious as olive chancellor was in that. certainly i am not, and i lived for a long time in boston.”

“really!” he said, opening his eyes; “i had no idea of that. i think,” he went on, after a moment’s pause, “you might have mentioned it before, and saved me from giving myself away as i did.”

“you have said nothing very compromising so far,” i said, stooping down to help henrietta’s dachshund in an attempt to scramble on to my lap; “but i thought it kinder to warn you while there was yet time.”

he laughed rather foolishly, and slowly knocked the ash off his cigarette against the window-sash. “all the same,” he said, “i think i was quite right in what i said. by the way, i got a lot of new{225} fiddle music to-day. i wonder if you would come and have a look at it? perhaps we could try over some?”

“i am afraid it is rather late,” i said hesitatingly. “i should like to do so very much, but i think the game must be nearly over, and we ought to go home then; it gets dark so quickly.”

“well, perhaps you would allow me to bring it over to durrus some day? my sister is very slow at reading music, and i think i remember your saying that you did not mind playing accompaniments.”

i did remember saying so quite well, and also the manner in which the intimation had been received; but i magnanimously determined to let bygones be bygones, and consented with a good grace.

the game was, as i had said, coming to a conclusion. willy was playing, and{226} evidently playing extremely well—striding round the table with silent purposeful rapidity, while miss watson triumphantly proclaimed the score as his break mounted. connie, ignoring the dejection of her unhappy little partner, was leaning back against the wall, humming a little bitter tune, with the air of having lost all interest in the proceedings.

“i think connie looks as if she had enough of jimmy’s billiard-playing,” said nugent, with brotherly discernment; “she doesn’t like being beaten a bit. there’s an end of willy’s break. now, jimmy,” he called out, “they only want three of game—42 plays 97; it’s a good game to win!”

mr. barrett advanced to the table, looking with a sickly smile to his partner for an encouragement which he did not receive. nugent and i left our window, and{227} came closer to see the finish of the game. we had not long to wait. taking prolonged aim at the red ball, mr. barrett dealt his own a faltering tap; it rolled slowly across the table, and, without touching either of the other balls, sank unobtrusively into a side pocket.

“three to us. game!” said miss watson. “i think we did pretty well, mr. sarsfield. i told you you were good at games as soon as i looked at your hand.”

“why, have you had your fortune told, willy?” i said.

“yes,” he said shortly. “are you quite sure you’ve told me everything?”—turning from me to miss watson.

“oh dear, no! not more than half. i shall think about your hand, and tell you the rest another day,” said miss watson, with great suavity. “irishmen’s hands{228} are so puzzling—so contradictory, you know; but i suppose all irish people are that, aren’t they?”

“never mind, mr. barrett,” i heard connie saying; “we will play them again some other time. now, good people, won’t you all come and have some tea?” she continued. “you had better not lose time, or there will be none left. mr. horan gets through tea and cake like a sunday school—four cups at least, and two slices with every cup! so if you and willie are going to have any more palmistry, georgie, we certainly shall not wait for you.”

in the drawing-room, we found madam o’neill, henrietta, and mr. horan sitting over the tea-table; the latter with his handkerchief spread over his knees, and a general greasiness of aspect suggestive of buttered toast. the burkes had gone,{229} and, to my unbounded relief, the o’neill did not appear.

“it’s just as i said,” whispered connie; “there isn’t an atom of toast or hot cake left. did you see mamma just now hiding the sponge-cake behind the slop-basin to get it out of his way? i see the burkes have gone,” she went on. “if you could only have heard old mimi singing your praises before you came to-day! she said it was ‘deloightful to have that sweet young creature settled in the country,’ and that, ‘considering you had been brought up among the americans, you really spoke english as well as she did.’ was not that what she said, nugent?”

her brother laughed, and sat down beside me.

“you see, what i told you is quite true,” he said, “though perhaps i did not put it as nicely as miss burke did. as an{230} american young lady, you are a failure in these parts.”

“i am delighted to hear it,” i replied. “if you had not formed a preconceived idea that i was a yankee, i know you would have noticed my cork brogue at once.”

while we were talking, willy came up.

“are you nearly done your tea?” he demanded. “the trap is at the door some time.”

he remained standing before me, as if he expected me to get up at once. that something had annoyed him was evident, and, feeling that delay was unadvisable, i swallowed my tea with all possible despatch, and made my adieux.

nugent came to the hall door with us.

“then, may i come over on tuesday?” he said, tucking in the rug for me, while willy silently picked up the reins, and took the whip out of the rest, “or any{231} other day that would suit you would do for——” the rest of the sentence was lost, as willy, without further ceremony, drove away.

“very well—tuesday!” i screamed back, as we whirled down the avenue. “my dear willy, i don’t know why you were in such a desperate hurry,” i went on, rather crossly.

“well, how was i to know he had anything more to say?” retorted willy, with equal ill-temper. “i’m sure he had plenty of time to settle everything before we left the house. i wasn’t going to keep the mare standing, if he chose to go on prating there.”

“i don’t suppose another five seconds would have done her any mortal injury, and i think you might have risked it for the sake of civility.”

he did not answer, and we drove along{232} in silence, willy maintaining a demeanour of unbending severity, and affecting to be altogether occupied with his driving.

“very well,” i said to myself, “if he likes to sulk, he may; i won’t take any notice of him.”

no word was spoken for at least a mile. alaska trotted steadily on, under the leafless beeches, and along the road by the sea, till she at length slackened to walk up a hill.

“are you cold, theo?” willy did not turn his head, but i felt that the olive branch had been extended.

“not particularly,” i said, as indifferently as possible.

“i put a wrap into the trap for you”—stretching a long arm over the back of the seat, and dragging a cloak from the depths. “you must be perished in that thin coat. here, let me put this round you.{233}”

he wrapped me in it with unnecessary care, and while he was doing so he said suddenly,

“i’m awfully sorry if i was rude to you. you know that——” his voice broke, and he stopped as suddenly as he had begun. i put up my hand to fasten the cloak for myself, and was rather startled to find it caught and fervently squeezed.

“oh!” i said, withdrawing my hand sharply, “you were not in the least rude to me. i did not mind a bit. we had a very pleasant day on the whole, i think,” i continued inconsequently; “and did you see how beautifully i behaved to the o’neill?”

i fancy willy looked a little disappointed at his apology being disposed of so quickly.

“no, i can’t say i did,” he answered, in{234} an injured way. “i had plenty to do talking to the madam.”

“yes, i saw you. i was looking at you with the deepest admiration all through lunch. and, by the way, what do you think of miss watson? she seems to be a wonderful billiard-player.”

“i thought you were too busy talking to nugent to notice what we were doing,” said willy, with some return of sulkiness. “it didn’t look as if you found it so hard to talk to him, as you’re always saying you do.”

“but i assure you we were looking at the game, willy. i don’t understand billiards, so you can’t expect me to watch every stroke.”

“well, i only know that i spoke to you one time, and you were so much taken up with talking about boston or something, that you never even heard me.{235}”

“then you must have said it absolutely in a whisper,” i said, in heated self-defence. “mr. o’neill was not saying anything in the least interesting, only that he should never have thought i had been brought up in america.”

“h’m!” said willy, in a more mollified tone. “he must have meant that for a compliment. i know what he thinks of yankee girls. he’s told me many a queer story of one he met at cannes last winter.”

we rounded a turn in the road, and in the twilight i could see the durrus woods spreading darkly down to the sea. it would take another ten minutes to reach home, and, though willy was simmering down, i knew that we were still on dangerous ground.

“what did miss watson say of your hand?” i asked, with the view of changing the conversation. “did she tell you that{236} you had ‘no sense of humour, and homicidal tendencies, combined with unusual conscientiousness’? that’s what a man once told me.”

“no,” answered willy, quite seriously; “she didn’t say very much about my character. she was looking at my line of heart most of the time, i think. she told me that i would have ‘two great passions’ in my life, and that i was to be married soon.” he stopped, and looked at me.

“how exciting!” i said hurriedly. “my man did not tell me any of those interesting sort of things.”

“she said my line of fate was broken,” resumed willy, “whatever that may mean. she told me i had a very good line of intellect, but it wasn’t properly developed. i dare say the last part of that’s true enough,” he added, with a sigh. “i never{237} got a chance to learn anything when i was a boy. the governor sent me from one dirty little school to another for a couple or three years, and then the national schoolmaster had a go at me, and that’s about all the education i ever had.”

“i dare say you get on just as well without being very good at classics and those sort of things. and, you see, you passed your exam. for your captaincy in the west cork quite easily,” i said, with a rather lame attempt at consolation.

“that’s quite a different thing; any fool could do that. what makes me sick is to see nugent and chaps like him, who have been to harrow and oxford, and all the rest of it—and here i’ve been stuck all my life, without a chance to get level with them. it’s when i’m talking to you that i feel what an ignorant brute i am!”

“i hate to hear you talk like that,{238} willy,” i said, really distressed. “i never thought you so—not for an instant. on the contrary, i think you know more than any one i ever met—about practical things; and if you don’t look where you’re going, you will drive over that old woman who is going in at the gate”—as we turned sharply off the road at the durrus lodge—“and i believe it is that dreadful old moll, too. i am thankful to say i have not seen her for ever so long.”