"Oh, Captain Egerton; he is in India, and is a Colonel now; he has been doing wonders. I will tell him you were asking for him; he will be delighted."
"Me blessin' on him, wherever he goes. Och, it's a weary sore world;" and she glanced at Kate, and wiped a tear from her eyes with the corner of her apron; then curtseying profoundly, retired, saying—"I'll niver forget the Captin, an' him that's gone. How happy they wer togather!"
"Pray," said Lord Effingham, as she passed, "is your memory always equally good for every one and everything?"
"I always had a wondherful memory, mee lord," said Mrs. O'Toole, with another low curtsey; "for it can remimber an' disremimber, mee lord! just what's convanient betimes!"
"Very convenient," replied his lordship, with a laugh; "good morning."
The storm of rain and thunder growing every moment fiercer and more loud, Lady Desmond ordered the windows to be fastened; and the party drew naturally closer together, while the vivid flashes of lightning, at intervals, displayed their countenances to each other; and Kate, her nerves not yet braced back to their former strength, almost blushed for her own cowardice, as she, sometimes, covered her face with her hands, and scarce could refrain from seizing the arm nearest her; but that arm was Lord Effingham's. At last, one fearful crash, and blinding blaze of light, the climax of the storm, startled her out of every consideration, save the momentary terror; covering her eyes with one hand, she stretched out the other blindly, catching Lord Effingham's arm in the involuntary grasp of alarm and leaning towards him; it was but for a moment, and she drew back.
"By Jove, a thunder-bolt must have fallen," cried Colonel Dashwood, springing to the window, as if to look for it.
Lady Desmond followed him.
"It was of no use," said Lord Effingham, rapidly, in a low voice, to Kate; "you see my position is not the least shaken! why interfere between your cousin and myself?"