"Ah, that letter," said Maureen, and she gave a little shudder. "Colonel, I love you very, very much, and I want you to keep Garry and Fly-away for three months, then I rather expect I'll want them both back again. But I want you to do something more than that for me. Will you? Promise!"
"You blessed child, I never promise in the dark."
"Well, it shan't be in the dark; it shall be in the light. You know that broth of a boy Dominic is going to Rugby. It's a bit late for him to go, and if he misses this term, the Headmaster won't have him, but he'll have to miss this term and Rugby altogether unless you come to the rescue."
"Good gracious, Maureen, what have I to do with it?"
"Well it's like this. We can't leave Uncle Pat alone; he's not accustomed to it, and he has gone through a frightful lot lately, so I want you, 'dear Colonel,' out of all your wealth (and you know you are very rich) to put a good curate into Templemore, and take Uncle Pat with you, when the weather gets cold enough, to the Riviera, and until then to have him here, if you both like, or to take him at once to parts of Europe which he has never seen and would like to, beyond the beyonds! I want you to be with him while I am away. Will you do this great thing for your own little Maureen?"
"Well, to be sure, child, it is a great thing, and I am a bit tired of travelling, and I like my own comforts and my own home, but I'd do more than that for your sweet face. Bless you, my little girl. If there's a great hurry over this business, we'll have the motor car out and go straight to the Rectory this evening. Upon my word, I'm hungry. You know the ways of this house, Maureen. Ring the bell, my best darling."
When Terence appeared with such startling swiftness that there was circumstantial evidence that he must have had his ear to the keyhole, the Colonel looked him up and down very shrewdly.
"Under the circumstances, I forgive you, Terence," he said; "but clearly understand, don't do it again. Now, pray listen. Miss Maureen and I want dinner quite simple at once, and in half an hour from now I desire Laurence, my chauffeur, to have the motor car at the front entrance. Now hurry, please, for there is not a moment to lose."
"Cert'ly, Colonel," was the valet's response. He fled to the kitchen.
"Now, of all the wonders," he said, "that blessed man our Colonel has got and gone and started an appertite. It's dinner for two, and not a holy minute's delay. It's not by yer lave! but the thing has to be—Dinner—'sharp, and look alive' war his orders; and what's more—him what never goes out towards evening, which I take it to be the werry glory o' the day—the motor car is to be at the front door all ready for a drive for himself and Missie—bless her heart."