"There is a man who wants to take me for his wife, Hannah," she corrected, very gently.
"An' you do be puttin' him before everythin' in the world?"
Clodagh turned swiftly and met the small, anxious eyes.
"So much before everything, that if I were to lose him now I should lose"—she paused for an instant, then added—"myself."
Hannah's eyes narrowed in the intensity of her concern.
"An' he do be carin' for you, Miss Clodagh?"
Clodagh learnt forward; and the warm light from the sunset touched and transfigured her face.
"Yes—he cares," she said very slowly.
CHAPTER XVIII
Late on the afternoon that followed her arrival, Clodagh—with Larry in attendance—climbed up the uneven path that led from the Orristown boat-cove to the house. A considerable change had taken place in the weather since the previous evening. The sky no longer hung low and motionless above the horizon line; the sea no longer shone white and polished as a mirror. A gale had sprung up, breaking the clouds and whipping the sea into small green waves; and more than once, as the cousins clambered up the rugged track, Asshlin paused to look back at his small boat, lying with furled sail and shipped oars on the shingle.