While little Margot and "Herself" were engrossed over the two-months-old baby and Margot was expressing her intense delight that it was really a very young baby—"proper young," she said, raising her deep, dark eyes to the young mother's face—Fergus Desmond was giving way to a certain amount of anger. He was a good fellow, one of the best in Ireland, but he was eaten up with an Irishman's pride and he did not want his little niece to be "hail-fellow-well-met" even with so good a man as Phinias Maloney.
A slight consideration, however, caused him to see the absurdity of these feelings. He had no cause to abuse poor Phinias, who was one of his own father's best tenants. The frown, therefore, smoothed away from his brow and he walked beside Phinias into one of the meadows at the back of the tumble-down farm.
"Ye may wonder that missie comes to see me, sir," exclaimed Phinias, who had been quite quick enough to discern the frown of displeasure on the young masther's brow. "Why, thin, I'll explain to yourself," he continued. "She's a little miss that ain't to be seen often, and she was put into my charge on board the boat. Why to be sure I didn't recognise John Mansfield at the first go-off, but when I did, I couldn't but accept the duty put on me. She's a dear little miss and wasn't no throuble at all even to sphake about, only she was fair mad to get to Desmondstown."
"Now, listen, Phinias, I want to speak to you," said Fergus. "Time is short and there is a great deal to be done. I want you to tell me, my good fellow, all that you know of John Mansfield."
"All that I know, Mr. Desmond? I know nought but what's good about the best gintleman that ever walked. It isn't to say that he's middlin' good, but he's high up among the saints, your honour. He's a priest of the Holy Church. Nobody must say a word against John Mansfield 'fore me, yer beautiful honour."
"I don't want to say a word against the man," said Fergus. "You just told me that he put a little child into your care."
"Yes, he did, and as dacent and as purty a colleen as could be found in the breadth of the British Isles."
"I know all about her," said Fergus. "The child is a dear child. She is my niece and granddaughter to The Desmond, but what I want to find out is this—how she comes to be niece also to John Mansfield."
"Sure then, did ye never hear of Farmer Mansfield of these parts?"
"What," said Fergus, stepping back a pace and a frown coming over his handsome features. "You don't mean to insinuate that my niece is a relation of that old scoundrel?"