"That's thrue, Miss Biddy," exclaimed Norah. "Here's all as was in the letter, as sure as I'm standing up in my stockinged feet this minute."
"I put the postal order in," said Janet, in a careless voice; "what else should I do? I suppose your postmen here aren't honest."
"Why then, miss, that's a bould thing to say of Mike Carthy," answered Pat, in a low, angry voice, which resembled a growl.
"I thought you might be able to throw some light on the matter," said Bridget, "but it seems you cannot. We must be going home now, so I shall have to say good-by, Pat. Norah, you can come down to the Castle for some fresh eggs to-morrow, and I'll get Molly Malone to make up a basket of all sorts of good things to strengthen Pat for his wedding."
"You won't forget a wee dhrop of the crathur, lady?" muttered the giant, looking up into Biddy's face.
"No, no, that I won't, Pat, my poor fellow."
Bridget wrung her retainer's hand, and a moment or two later she and Janet were on their homeward way.
"Now, look here," said Bridget, when the girls had gone a little distance in almost unbroken silence; "I wish to say something; I shan't talk about it when we get home, but out here we are both on equal ground, and I can talk my mind freely and fully. I watched your face when we were in that little cottage, Janet, and I am quite certain you know something about those two sovereigns which I gave you to post to Pat Donovan."
"What if I do?" retorted Janet.