It was a merry dinner party, and they were all in high spirits. Later on in the evening the Squire and the Vicar's wife challenged the Vicar and the Doctor to a quiet rubber, which was eagerly accepted.
"You two young people can look after yourselves," said the Squire to Irene and his son, and she flushed slightly at his words.
Whist was an interesting game to the players, but Ulick and Irene evidently found it slow as spectators, and quietly left the room.
A bright fire was blazing in the drawing-room, and Irene sat down at the piano and idly ran her hands over the keys. The lamps shed a soft, yellow light over the room, and the effect was soothing and tranquil.
Presently Irene sang a simple song, and, when it was ended, went on with another. She was fond of music; so was Ulick, and he listened to her sweet, low notes, and watched her face as she sang, half unconscious of his presence.
When she stopped and looked up she found him standing near her. Their eyes met, and, taking her hand, he said—
"Irene, I have something to say to you."
She knew what he meant, and knew what her answer must be.
He pleaded his cause well, and she listened, smiling encouragement when he faltered.
He asked her to be his wife, and she consented without any false hesitation.