CHAPTER VIII. SUMMER WITH AN EAST WIND.
The Rector had given directions that Templemore was to be re-painted and re-papered and to a certain extent re-furnished for his return. He was expected home on the first of June, that day of all days, when spring has not quite died away and summer has touched everything with her golden wings. Maureen and Colonel Herbert met the travellers when they entered the old house, and Maureen flung her arms round Uncle Pat's neck and kissed him over and over again. She kissed Dominic, too, but she was mostly taken up with Uncle Pat.
"Why, you look quite well; I do declare, you look young," said Maureen.
"And you, my dearest baby," replied the Rector, "I never saw you look better before."
"Oh, that's all owing to 'dear Colonel,'" said Maureen. "He is a darling. He doesn't much like my leaving him, but you come first, dearest, most dear."
"Yes, I come first, little girl," said the Rector.
He glanced at the Colonel as he spoke, and saw a shadow on his brow and a curious blue look round his lips, and it suddenly flashed upon the Rector that perhaps he was selfish in keeping Maureen; but he must keep her now, he felt he must. Was she not his twin-brother's only child, and was there not money enough now for everything? Money certainly was a power.
The Rector went up to the Colonel and began to thank him, but the Colonel interrupted him.
"None of that, dear old man. I'm the sort of person who cannot bear thanks from anyone; not even from her, blessed angel. By the way, I have bought her a horse—'Fly-away' by name. He's a thoroughbred Arab, and I have sent his own groom with him. It would give me sincere pleasure, Rector—unspeakable pleasure—if you would let me pay all the expense of Fly-away and groom."