Sarah Maria again galloped toward the kitchen, and Bridget hastily withdrew her counsel.
“Shure it's the divil himsilf broke loose!” shouted Bridget again, opening the door a crack. “I'd know his horns an' tail anywheres, bad cess to him! Howly Mither! how shall I get yez into the house? It's a state of siege I'm in here, or I'd be out a-dhraggin' yez inside. Don't raise yer hid, Mr. Loveland—don't now, me dear, as ye love yer life, or fust ye know she'll go a-bowlin' of it 'roun' that yard as if it was a billiard bawl. She's got no more heart in her brist than that. Och! bad luck ter her! Shure——”
But again Sarah Maria started to interview the cook, and again Bridget had a pressing engagement indoors.
“Och! what shall we do now? Shure it's quakin' I am fer fear ivery minute. I'll see your gory head bouncin' 'roun' the potaty patch an' her afther it. May the saints defind yez from sich a horrible fate. Och! look at that, now!” she shrieked as Sarah made another lurch in Steve's direction. “Perlice! perlice!” she screamed, so loud that she might have been heard in the city. “Shure I hope I may live ter see that ould divil hangin' ter the apple tree an' the crows fasteing off her wicked ould body. There, now, come, Mr. Loveland—she's off! Och! good luck ter thim bees! Git up now, me darlint! There, rin! rin fer yer life! Och! she's comin' agin!”
But Steve reached the kitchen door first, and Bridget reached forth a welcoming hand and snatched him inside, his coat being rent in twain by the violence of his salvation.
“Shure, now, that's a cow fer a respictable middle-aged woman twilve years over from Oireland ter sit down an' milk when she's not yit ready ter die—is it, now? An' a respictable family ter drink the milk of an' not expect ter be cuttin' up shines an' capers an' all sorts of wicked things in consequence—is it, I say? Luck at that, now! Haven't I told yez that cow hasn't the manners ov a leddy, at all, at all!”
Mrs. Maria was at that moment clearing the fence and dancing down the road, pursued by a hive of bees.
“May the divil claim his own an' sit her up next ter him down where the both ov thim belongs!” was Bridget's pious wish as she disappeared.
Steve had hardly more than had time to change his clothes, which fortunately had received all the damage in the recent scrimmage, when he saw Nannie hurrying down the road. She was half running, half walking, and her face was so radiantly happy that Steve went out to learn the good tidings she evidently bore. So eager was she to impart her news that she called out before he reached her:
“It's happened! It's happened! It's all over! and it's so little—and the dearest—oh, Steve——”