They had left Miss Campbell and Maria at the inn to rest and the four girls had taken a jaunting car and started off, ostensibly for a drive, but really on a search for the Butler cousins.
The jaunting car of Ireland is a vehicle peculiar to that country alone. It has two wheels like a dog cart, and the seats run sideways so that the passengers sit back to back and see only half the landscape as they jolt along. The driver is supposed to sit on a cross-piece in front, right over the horse’s tail, but he just as often sits at the side to drive his nag, urging him on with an occasional lazy flick of the whip. To-day he shared one of the seats with Elinor and Mary.
“Do you know a family named Butler around here, driver?” began Elinor diplomatically.
“Shure an’ there be a mony of that name in Oirland,” answered the man, blinking at the sunlight, “and a good name it is, I’m thinkin’.”
“I’m looking for the family of Thomas Butler,” Elinor ventured.
“An’ it’s Tom ye’re lookin’ for, is it?”
“Do you know him?” asked Elinor surprised at his familiarity in the use of her cousin’s name.
“Shure an’ I ought to know him,” chuckled the man. “An’ if God and his howly saints are good to me, I’ll know him for mony a day to come. He’s a good soul, is Tom. He wur-rks all the time, for shure, and nivver rests at all, exceptin’ whin the night comes an’ he falls on his bed for weariness. He’s a good fam’ly man, is Tom.”
“Good family,” repeated Elinor. “Yes, that’s what I understood. It’s a very good family.”
“It is indade, Miss. But my manin’ was different. Tom is a good provider. There’s more than sphuds on his table. There’s milk in a-plenty and eggs just fresh from the hins. Tom, he keeps two cows and a great number of powltry, includin’ of six foine ducks and as many more tur-rkeys.”