She came back with the same quiet look in her eyes, which was anger and mischief beaten by the whip of thought, and when asked if she had, as desired, paid the money into her mother's account, merely said it was all right.
But next day Mr. Freyne was called out to find Dinny, his herdsman, joyfully unpacking a variety of brilliantly painted agricultural machines from two carts from Cornahulty, which his master looked at blankly.
Gheena, quietly demure, came out to listen to the comments.
"Mother told me you wanted Whitebird's price for these things, Dearest," she said gently. "So I went to O'Malley's, and he knew what you and Dinny had been looking at, and he gave me discount for cash. There is just five pounds more to pay, I think."
Dearest George opened his mouth twice, and shut it on what he wished to articulate.
"An' the two men from Cornahulty want twenty-five shillin' for the haulin'," said Naylour, coming in to his stormy master. "Miss Gheena agreed to that with them, they says. God save us! but ye'd think I axed him for his heart's blood," said Naylour, when he got back to the kitchen; "an' he wrote the cheque like as if 'twas his own ordther for execution. Miss Gheena said I was to give the two of ye ye're tea."
CHAPTER XI
Darby Dillon ceased reading about the hobnobbing of Germans and English at Christmas-time to parley with the infuriated owner of That's the Boy, who had ridden over to say the horse's charackther was blighted for life not to get the race and the cup.
"Bathered and bumped an' crossed, sir, an' then to have me just obbjection pushed down me throat the same as a dose to a horse, an' all the neighbours at me, an' that broth of a boy Rourke won't even have a match to show the rights of it. Him that I could thrample on an' bate out with one stride to his two, his muddeen of a dun horse."
Andy, who was holding the blighted That's the Boy, looked up to suggest—grinning—a match with the Rat.