"No; no, of course not. But you'll get him back soon?"
"Yes; I want to." Clodagh gathered up the reins, and the pony started forward at a swift trot. "But, do you know, Nance, I have thought of going to Orristown in a month or so. Would you like to come to Ireland?"
"Like to? Oh, Clo, I have dreamt and dreamt of our being at Orristown together—just you and me. Can you picture it? Wearing our oldest clothes—riding and walking and sailing all day long; and making Hannah cook us the most heavenly cakes for tea!"
She clasped her hands rapturously, regardless of her new white gloves.
Clodagh laughed softly and affectionately.
"Oh, you child!" she said, almost enviously.
How sweet and pretty and unaffected she was—this little sister who had suddenly stepped back into her life! An overwhelmingly tender feeling of protectiveness welled up within her—a sudden deep longing to shelter and guard her, to hedge her round with all that is sacred and fine.
"Nance!" she said impulsively, "have you ever thought that I behaved badly to you—behaved unfairly in any way?"
"Unfairly?"
"Yes."