"Ah, my little Maureen," said the Rector.
He looked at the child with his eyes full of sympathy, but she saw well enough, for the time at least, that she was no longer first with him. The Grand Tour came first. The dream of his life, about to be realised at long last, was first for the time being. So little Maureen went off with a light heart on the following morning.
Pegeen, it is true, cried a good deal, but the Rector did not cry. His eyes were bright with renewed health. Burke also looked very mournful; but they both promised the little girl to do their utmost for Mr. Fagan, God bless him, "and they would kape the ould house like a new pin, God bless it!"
So Maureen went away. Her heart was indeed like a feather. Dominic was very near chortling in his joy; Dominic had read well enough how cleverly, how marvellously Maureen had managed.
"Upon my word," he said, "I don't know myself, little mate; I can be a Rugby boy with an easy mind after all."
"Of course you can, Dom, and be sure you write to me. Dear Colonel has promised to write from every place they stop at—if it is only a picture-card—and Uncle says he will write on Sundays. Oh, Dom, don't they look happy, dear old men."
"They're 'chortling,' if you like," replied Dominic.
So the boy and girl started on their journey. They crossed from Rosslair to Fishguard, and then took train to London. Dominic was very anxious to spend one night in London, but Maureen would not allow this.
"No," she said, "no. They are crying for me very hard. We'll go straight on."
"Who in the world are crying for you, asthore?"