“Is he as rich as the Duke of Kilkenty?” asked Billie.
“Don’t talk about disagreeable subjects in such a beautiful spot,” put in Nancy.
Billie laughed.
“I believe you blame everything on the Duke of Kilkenty, Nancy. He’s a sort of evil genius who brings all the bad weather, and I haven’t a doubt he had the Blarney stone put up at the top of Blarney Castle with iron spikes in front of it to keep you from kissing it——”
“I would never have permitted her to lean across that awful place and kiss the stone, even if it hadn’t been railed off,” broke in Miss Campbell. “But I am thankful it was,” she added, remembering Nancy’s reckless spirit.
“Your Irish tongue is quite glib enough as it is, Miss,” observed Elinor.
“I’m not any Irisher than you are,” cried Nancy.
“Are you Irish, Elinor?” asked Maria.
“Oh, yes,” answered Elinor, blushing a little. “I have some cousins who live here. I shall see them in a few days.”
Elinor was still shy about those cousins. Sometimes she wished the mists of uncertainty which shrouded them might never be lifted. Suppose, after all, they would disappoint her in some way, and not be the charming people she had pictured in her mind? She sighed.