“Oh, we are wild over there,” continued Nora; “we have no conventionalities. We share and share alike; we don't mind whether we are rich or poor. We are poor—oh! frightfully poor; and we keep very few servants; and—and the place is bare; because it can be nothing but bare; but there's no place like O'Shanaghgan.”
“But what do you mean by bare?” said Mrs. Hartrick.
“Bare?” said Nora. “I mean bare; very few carpets and very little furniture, and—and——But, oh! it's the hearts that are warm, and that is the only thing that matters.”
“It must be a right-down jolly place; and, by Jehoshaphat! I wish I was there,” interrupted Molly.
“Molly!” said her mother.
“Oh, leave her alone for the present,” said Mr. Hartrick. “But do you mean,” he continued, looking at Nora in a distressed way, “that—that my sister lives in a house of that sort?”
“Mother?” said Nora. “Of course; she is father's wife, and my mother; she is the lady of O'Shanaghgan. It is a very proud position. We don't want grand furniture nor carpets to make it a proud position. She is father's wife, and he is O'Shanaghgan of Castle O'Shanaghgan. He is a sort of king, and he is descended from kings.”
“Well, Terence, I must say this does not at all coincide with your description,” said his uncle, turning and looking his nephew full in the face.
“I didn't wish to make things too bad, sir. Of course, we are not very rich over there; but still, Nora does exaggerate.”
“Look here, Nora,” said her uncle, suddenly turning and pulling her down to sit beside him, “you and I must have a little chat. We will just go and have it right away. You shall tell me your version of the story quite by ourselves.” He then rose and drew her out of the room.