“An’, Miss Norah, dear, what kind iv a girrul d’ye think he wanted to find?”
“I don’t know, Andy—what kind?”
“Oh, begor! but it’s meself can tell ye! Shure, it’s a long, yalla, dark girrul, shtreaky—like—like he knows what—not quite a faymale nagur, wid a rid petticoat, an’ a quare kind iv an eye!”
“Oh, Andy!” was all she said, as she turned to me smiling.
“Get along, you villain!” said I, and I shook my fist at him in fun; and then I took Norah aside, and told her what the “quare kind iv an eye” was that I had sought—and found.
Then we two said “Good-night” in peace, whilst the others in front went through the gate. We took—afterwards—a formal and perfectly decorous farewell, only shaking hands all round, before Dick and I mounted the car. Andy started off at a gallop, and his “Git up, ye ould corncrake!” was lost in our shouts of “Good-bye!” as we waved our hats. Looking back, we saw Norah’s hands waving as she stood with her father’s arm around her, and her head laid back against his shoulder, whilst the yellow moonlight bathed them from head to foot in a sea of celestial light.
And then we sped on through the moonlight and the darkness alike, for the clouds of the coming rain rolled thick and fast across the sky.
But for me the air was all aglow with rosy light, and the car was a chariot flying swiftly to the dawn!
CHAPTER XIV.
A TRIP TO PARIS.
The next day was Sunday; and after church I came over early to Knockcalltecrore, and had a long talk with Norah about her school project. We decided that the sooner she began the better—she because, as she at first alleged, every month of delay made school a less suitable place for her—I because, as I took care not only to allege but to reiterate, as the period had to be put in, the sooner it was begun the sooner it would end, and so the sooner would my happiness come.