"Faith," he said, "I would have disinherited the boy, if he had been such a fool as not to appreciate you, Mary."
O'Grady was loud in his congratulations.
"It is just like your luck, Terence," he said. "Luck is everything. Here am I, a battered hero, who has lost an arm and a foot in the service of me country, and divil a girl has thrown herself upon me neck. Here are you, a mere gossoon, fifteen years my junior in the service, mentioned a score of times in despatches, promoted over my head; and now you have won one of the prettiest creatures in Ireland and, what is a good deal more to the point, though you may not think of it at present, with a handsome fortune of her own. In faith, there is no understanding the ways of Providence."
A week afterwards the whole party went up to Dublin, as Terence and O'Grady had to go before a medical board. A fortnight later a notice appeared, in the Gazette, that Lieutenant Colonel Terence O'Connor had retired from the service, on half pay, with the rank of colonel.
The marriage did not take place for another six months, by which time Terence had thrown away his crutches and had taken to an artificial leg--so well constructed that, were it not for a certain stiffness in his walk, his loss would not have been suspected by a casual observer. For three months previous to the event, a number of men had been employed in building a small but pretty house, some quarter of a mile from the mansion, intended for the occupation of Majors O'Connor and O'Grady.
"It will be better, in every way, Terence," his father insisted, when his son and Mary remonstrated against their thus proposing to leave them. "O'Grady and I have been comrades for twenty years, and we shall feel more at home, in bachelor quarters, than here. I can run in three or four times a day, if I like, and I expect I shall be as much here as over there; whereas if I lived here, I should often be feeling myself in the way, though I know that you would never say so. It is better for young people to be together and, maybe some day, the house will be none too large for you."
The house was finished by the time the wedding took place, and the two officers moved into it. The wedding was attended by all the tenants, and half the country round; and it was agreed that the bride's jewels were the most magnificent that had ever been seen in that part of Ireland, though some objected that diamonds, alone, would have been more suitable for the occasion than the emeralds.
Terence, on his return, had heard from his father that his Uncle, Tim M'Manus, had called very soon after the major had returned to his old home. He had been very friendly, and had been evidently mollified by Terence's name appearing in general orders; but his opinion that he would end his career by a rope had been in no way shaken. He had, however, continued to pay occasional visits; and the rapid rise of the scapegrace, and his frequent mention in despatches, were evidently a source of much gratification to him; and it was not long after his return that his uncle again came over.
"We will let bygones be bygones, Terence," he said, as he shook hands with him. "You have turned out a credit to your mother's name, and I am proud of you; and I hold my head high when I say Colonel Terence O'Connor, who was always playing mischief with the French, is my great nephew, and the good M'Manus blood shines out clearly in him."
There was no one who played a more conspicuous part at the wedding than Uncle Tim. At his own request, he proposed the health of the bride and bridegroom.