“Indeed, indeed we're not,” broke in Mrs. Nelligan. “You don't know Dan at all. He would n't exchange the honor of sitting there, opposite you, to be High Sheriff.”
A servant fortunately presented himself at this awkward moment with a whispered message for Miss Martin; to which she replied aloud,—
“Of course. Tell Mr. Scanlan it is my wish,—my orders,” added she, more firmly. “The house is open to any one who desires to see it. And now, before I go, Mr. Nelligan, tell me that I have convinced you,—tell me that my reasons have prevailed, and that you acknowledge we ought to be friends.” And as she said the last words, she held out her hand to him with a grace so perfect, and an air of such winning fascination, that old Nelligan could only stammer out,—
“It shall be how you please. I never bargained to dispute against such odds as this. We are, indeed, your friends; dispose of us how you like.” And, so saying, he conducted her to the little carriage, and, assisting her to her seat, took his leave with all the respect he could have shown a queen.
“It's more than a prejudice, after all,” muttered he, as he looked after her as she drove away. “There's something deeper and stronger in it than that, or else a few words spoken by a young girl could n't so suddenly rout all the sentiments of a lifetime! Ay, ay,” added he, still to himself, “we may pull them down; we may humble them; but we 'll never fill their places!”
“And we 're to see the house, it seems!” exclaimed Mrs. Nelligan, gathering her shawl around her.
“I don't care to look at it till she herself is here!” said old Nelligan, taking his wife's arm, and leading her away across the lawn, and in the direction of the stables. There was that in his moody preoccupation which did not encourage her to venture on a word, and so she went along at his side in silence.
“You're to have the black horses, Mr. Nelligan,” said Scanlan, overtaking him. Nelligan nodded. “You 've got a cheap pair of nags, and as good as gold,” continued he. A dry half-smile was all the reply. “Mr. Martin bred them himself,” Scanlan went on, “and no price would have bought them three weeks ago; but everything is going for a song to-day! I don't know how I 'll muster courage to tell them the results of the sale!”
“You 'll have courage for more than that,” said Nelligan. And although only a chance shot, it fell into a magazine; for Scanlan grew crimson, and then pale, and seemed ready to faint.
Nelligan stared with amazement at the effect his few words had produced, and then passed on; while the attorney muttered between his teeth, “Can he suspect me? Is it possible that I have betrayed myself?”