"As sure as any one can be, who has the money in their pocket. Darby brought it up this afternoon."
"Then, Dido, Darby has robbed you—robbed you shamefully! I overheard him sell the cow yesterday, and I meant to have told you, but other things put it out of my head; he sold her for twenty pounds—no wonder people say he has feathered his nest!"
"Oh, Helen," cried Dido, in dismay, "what is this you are telling me?"
"Just what I've been telling you for the last year, and you would not listen to me," said Barry in a loud voice. "I always knew he robbed you out of the face!"
It does not often happen that twice within twenty-four hours, a man's predictions are fulfilled to the letter—Barry's star was undoubtedly in the ascendant, he literally swelled with triumph.
"I saw the money counted into his hand," continued Darby's accuser; "twenty one-pound notes, and I thought how pleased you would be, and—he kept back four!"
"I've a great mind to go down to him this very evening, and impeach him to his face. I suppose he has been doing this all along. No wonder i can't make both ends meet!"
"Don't go to-night," said Katie gravely, "wait till to-morrow. I hear John Dillon is about again—he shot the Crowmore grouse bog yesterday."
"I always knew that he was nothing but a poacher. Why don't some of the people try and catch him!" inquired Helen calmly.
"But it is john Dillon—exactly as he was in the flesh—he has been seen scores of times! Why, you saw him yourself, Barry, you have met him?" said Katie, appealing to her lover with judicious docility.