Once upon a time, on a very hot summer's day, a girl stood waiting at the door of a small old-fashioned inn, beside a little heap of luggage. She was quite young, about sixteen, or seventeen at the most. Her face was sweet in expression, and would have been pretty if she had not looked so tired and anxious. She was quite alone and seemed shy and timid, for now and then, when some of the folk belonging to the place, passing in and out, wished her good-day, or made any friendly remark, she started and grew crimson even though she replied politely. And when after a time the landlady herself came to the door and asked the girl if she would not step inside and wait in the parlour, she answered hesitatingly that she thought she had better stay in the porch.
"I'm so afraid of missing the coach, or losing my seat in it," she said.
"No fear of that, Miss," said the comfortable-looking dame. "Your place is engaged, no doubt."
"Oh yes, I suppose so," the stranger replied. "My name is O'Beirne—Clodagh O'Beirne."
"That's all right," said the landlady; "I remember the name. The master—that's my husband—called out to the coachman last night that he must secure a place for you to-day. You'd written for it, no doubt?"
"Yes, the friends I stayed the night with—I only came over from Ireland yesterday—did so. It was their gig that brought me here just now, to catch the coach as it passed."
The landlady's good-humour seemed to cheer the girl a little; she began to look less frightened.
"You've come a long way," the older woman remarked. "Right across the sea, I take it?" The girl nodded, and looked as if she were going to cry. The landlady's curiosity was aroused. "And it's the first time you've left home, I daresay, and all by yourself too. It must feel strange-like."
"I wasn't alone till to-day. A friend came over with me," Clodagh replied. "And I shan't be alone long. I'm to meet a—a lady, a cousin, and we are to travel together."
"Ah indeed, that'll be much pleasanter for you," said her companion.