“About a mile and a half,” replied Mary. “It’s the other side of the Castle-gates—ye know, the place with the two dogs. This is Mr. Ulick Doran, of Kilmoran Castle.”
The woman looked up at him quickly, and said: “I’m in luck to chance on you, sir. I know your aunt, Mrs. Grogan, in Philadelphia; she lives not far from me, and is real well-to-do.”
“There! to think of that now!” ejaculated Katty. “Oh, but Miss Nora was the splendid fine girl, and the grand horse-lady—and how is she, at all?”
“Not much of a horse-lady now, but she keeps her carriage.”
“I am glad to meet any one who knows my father’s sister,” said Ulick. “Is there any chance of her coming over?”
“Well, not just at present; she heard I was to be a day or so in these parts—my people being buried hereabouts, you see—and I told her I’d go up and see the Castle, and bring her news right away; and she said she believed I’d be made welcome.”
“And she was quite right, ma’am,” replied Ulick. “I know my mother will be delighted to see you; will you come up with me now?”
“No, thank you, I’ll wait till to-morrow; I’m all wet and muddy, and not just fit for Castle company, thanking you all the same.”
The eagerness of Mrs. Doran to welcome the emissary of her sister-in-law requires some explanation. News had come, in the curious way in which it filters through other people’s letters, that Tom Grogan was doing right well for himself in America. After a pause, there was whispered the magic word of “wealth.” When Colonel Doran died, his sister had written to his widow, a timid epistle, full of heartfelt condolence; this had received a most gracious answer, and a correspondence ensued. Mrs. Doran was always good at her pen; she wrote volumes respecting her want of capital, and the extraordinary attractions of her oldest son; the younger she rarely mentioned.
Mrs. Grogan despatched American apples, candies, beautiful books, and furs—undeniably money’s worth; but no money. However, her sister-in-law built largely on Barky’s expectations from his aunt Nora, and talked a good deal about the Colonel’s sister, who was the wife of a millionaire; not a word of the mésalliance, much less of the postman!