“That Eale man has been coming here pretty often lately with one excuse or other.”
“So I’ve heard. What does he want?”
“He wants to marry Bridget.”
“What!” shouted D’Arcy.
“Yes, he made me a regular formal offer, sitting there in the same chair just where you are now. He said he could give his wife a fine house out on Lansdowne Road, and a motor—and make me a liberal allowance.” She paused.
“And what did you say?”
“Nothing. It takes a good deal now to make me laugh, but I laughed till I nearly choked, and couldn’t speak; at last I said, ‘So this is the reason of your visits, and the presents of grapes.’ He nodded quite at his ease. ‘Do you know who my granddaughter is?’ I asked, and he said:
“‘Oh yes, a girl without a second gown to her back, who gives the greengrocer’s children lessons for sixpence an hour.’
“‘That’s true,’ I agreed, ‘but she is a Doyne of Castle Doyne; her grandfather was High Sheriff of the county.’
“‘And her grandmother does her own washing,’ he put in, as rude as could be.