Angus was one of the few old Irish servants who were still left at Castle O'Shanaghgan. He now came forward in a sheepish kind of way; but when he saw Nora his face lit up.
“Put one of the horses to the outside car at once—Black Bess if you can,” said Nora.
“Yes, miss,” said the man, “with all the pleasure in life.”
“Don't take it round to the front door. Miss Molly and I want to drive to Cronane. You needn't come with us, Angus; just put the horse to, and I'll drive myself.”
Accordingly, in less than ten minutes' time the two girls were driving in the direction of Cronane. Molly, brave as she was, had some difficulty in keeping on. She clung to the sides of the car and panted.
“Nora, as sure as Jehoshaphat and Elephants, I'll be flung out on to the highroad!” cried Molly.
“Sit easy and nothing will happen,” said Nora, who was seated comfortably herself at the other side and was driving with vigor.
Presently they reached Cronane, which looked just as dilapidated as ever.
“Oh, the darling place! Isn't it a relief to see it?” said Nora. “Don't I love that gate off its hinges! It's a sight for sore eyes—that it is.”
They dashed up the avenue and stopped before the hall door.