There was a great scrubbing and cleaning before Norah was ready to start. Her mother combed and brushed her thick, long hair, and made it into two glossy braids. What did it matter if there was no hat to wear! She was so pretty, she did not need straw or ribbon to make people stop to look at the bright, happy face, with eyes ever ready to laugh or cry.
When she was dressed in her pink cotton gown (it was the only one she had, and her mother had washed and ironed and mended it the night before, after Norah had gone to bed), she ate her breakfast, and slipped over the fields to Mollie's, as happy as a lark.
The horse and car already stood waiting at the door. Mollie and Norah, and Mollie's sister Bridget, sat together on one side of the car, while the jolly farmer, with his wife and baby, filled the other seat. Mollie's big brother Tim was the driver.
As they jogged along through the beautiful country, the party sang "Killarney" and other favourite songs. After awhile, Mollie's mother started "The harp that once thro' Tara's halls," and every one joined in with a will.
When the song came to an end, the farmer told the children about an old harper who used to go wandering through the country. He stopped at every place to play the tunes the people loved so well.
But that was before Mollie and Norah were born. Yes, before even the farmer himself was born. He had heard his mother tell about the old man, and how bright his eyes grew as his fingers drew out the tunes from the harp.
Once upon a time there were many such harpers in the country. Those were the days of the Irish kings and lords. There were feasts and dancing and music in many a stone castle in those times.
But now, alas, most of the castles are only ruins, where the kindly ivy covers the piles of stones, and the wind howls through the empty door and window places.
One castle was the grandest of all. It was called the Hall of Tara, and was built on the top of a high hill. Mollie and Norah had often heard of the doings in that grand building.