“There, there,” said Father Maloney soothingly speaking as he would speak to a child, “aren’t I understanding every bit of what you’re feeling. But remember you’ve got Michael, whatever happens. And whatever happens is the very best thing possible; though, for that matter, as I’ve told ye—” He broke off, listening.
And then, through the open window, came the sound of voices, Rosamund’s plainly distinguishable, and a child laughing.
“Glory be to God!” cried Father Maloney, the laugh finding triumphant echo in his voice. “What did I tell you, at all!”
CHAPTER LI
AND SO THE STORY ENDS
“And that,” said David, concluding a little speech, “is all.”
A curious silence fell upon the room. Rosamund and John looked at each other; Lady Mary had her hands folded over an old piece of parchment; Elizabeth was watching her; Father Maloney looked at David.
“You mean,” said Father Maloney, breaking the silence, “that you wish to give up your claim to the whole thing?”
“That’s so,” said David pleasantly.
“And what,” demanded Father Maloney, “has brought you to this conclusion?”
“Simply,” said David smiling, “that I have seen that fishes live best in water, as birds live best on land. This,” he waved his hand around the hall, “isn’t my element.”