"Dear, dear," said the Colonel; "what can possibly have changed them?"
"Oh! a thousand things, Colonel Herbert; but principally that child—or rather that imp Maureen—I need not go into particulars; but you as a gentleman must understand how a lady is placed. I have come here to consult you. I want your sage advice on the subject of my new will."
"How do you want it altered?" asked Colonel Herbert.
"Well, I'm particularly anxious to settle all my money on my girls by the first marriage. Can you assist me? Can you help a lonely woman to put a wrong right?"
"My dear Mrs. O'Brien"—the Colonel rose impatiently from his seat—"it is absolutely impossible for me to help you. I am a retired Army man, not a lawyer. Go to a lawyer and he will draw you up any sort of will you desire. Now I greatly fear I am due at the County Sessions. Will you excuse me, madam? There are good lawyers in Cork and in Kingsala. But may I ask you one question? I know a little about Mr. O'Brien's affairs, and I am aware of the fact that he is especially interested in his dear little niece Maureen, the daughter of one of the best fellows that ever breathed. I suppose in readjusting your will or making a new one, you will not forget that sweet child who is loved by everyone in the place."
"Sweet child!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Brien. "Little you know her, Colonel. I tell you she can put on those manners, but she's a nasty little witch, and I hate her. Leave her a penny of my money—not I!"
"Then may God forgive you, madam. Now I'm afraid I must say good-morning."
It so happened that Mrs. O'Brien left Colonel Herbert's house in a towering rage. She had certainly got no comfort from that gentleman. Had he seen the shabby dogcart, the wild, half-broken-in race-horse, and poor Jacobs doing his best with him, matters might have turned out differently, but he was absorbed in his own thoughts and made up his mind to go and see the Reverend Patrick on the morrow.
"What possessed him to marry that woman?" was his thought.
By the time Mrs. O'Brien reached the dogcart, The O'Shee was in a wild temper. He was stamping and pawing the ground and jumping from one side of the road to the other.