“Well, I suppose there is no more to be said!” exclaimed Mr. West, turning to his companion with an expression of despair.
“Except, perhaps, the little word thank you?” sneered Mrs. Doran, who was trembling with suppressed rage.
“Well, I don’t know about thanks,” observed the priest, turning squarely on the lady, “but I’ll just say the little word”; and he paused. “God forgive me if I am wrong, but I believe, woman, you have cheated the poor! Yes”—with uplifted hand—“you got up this concert for them, and have put the earnings into your own hungry pocket. I am not a fool. You need not tell me that a few gallons of tea, and soup, and a couple of tins of kerosene oil, would cost nearly sixty pounds! And see, now I’ll punish you.”
“What? You will punish me!” she screamed hysterically. “I’d like to see you attempt it.”
“Yes, I’ll publish an account of the grand concert, and its takings, and all your little bills”—here he stretched out his big hand and gathered them up—“in the Cork paper and the Irish Times. This I will do at my own expense, and so let the world know what you are made of. If the Colonel were alive, I would never do it, nor shame him, good, innocent man; but as for you, you avaricious cormorant, you have no shame whatever—you do not know the name. Come away, West; this is no place for the servants of God!” and before Mrs. Doran could recover her senses and speech she was alone.
When the amount of the balance became known, naturally there was a terrible outcry. “The old wan” had surpassed herself this time! The lady had beaten every record. Some people laughed, others were furious, and as for the poor, they said, “Arrah! what could ye expect from Mrs. Doran? When did she give away bite or sup? She only gives trouble. Faix, the ould wan has it in for her.”
The particulars of the great scene in the study were imparted to Barky and Ulick. Barky, who was, of course, on his mother’s side, swore a terrible vengeance on Father Daly, but his brother was overwhelmed with shame. He wrote to his banker’s, and he rode down to Mr. West and had a good square talk with him; and the result of the conversation was that Father Daly withdrew his threatened exposure when he received an anonymous contribution of sixty pounds. Well, he knew where the money came from—generous young Ulick was his father’s own son; and accordingly, the scandal respecting “refreshments” was quickly hushed up, and not suffered to spread, though in the immediate neighbourhood of the Castle “Mrs. Doran’s concert” is talked of to the present day!
* * * * *
The frost did not last long. Hunting was speedily resumed, and Ulick was in his element. He had three capital horses, and rode them in the first flight. As the meets were early, and at a distance, and it was dark when he jogged home, he had not much chance of prosecuting his acquaintance with Mary Foley; now and then he came across her; once he met her on Sunday, just outside the Castle gates, coming from mass, with her prayer-book neatly wrapped in a clean handkerchief, and accosted her.