"We were thinking of going soon, sir; but----"
He paused and looked at his friend. He knew his father well, and guessed that he had asked the lonely woman to stay with them for a while. His father had indeed said more than once he wished an opportunity of this kind might occur.
"Can you go to-morrow? Mrs. Davenport wants to go to-night; but if you can manage to go to-morrow she may be induced to stay to-night with us."
"We shall only be too happy, sir," said Alfred, turning away to hide his satisfaction.
"Very good. We shall say to-morrow evening," said the old man, as he withdrew into the back room and shut the doors. He went to where the two women stood. "It is all settled. We will not ask you to do too much for us this time. Mr. O'Brien and my son are starting for the south of Ireland to-morrow. They are going to the village near which you live--Kilcash--and will leave you at your own gate."
"Mr. O'Brien and Mr. Paulton going to Kilcash! Surely this is arranged for me--at the moment."
"No, indeed; it has been settled for weeks. You see"--he smiled, and imported some gaiety into his voice--"Fate is stronger than you. You would not ask them to set off at once--to-night? Mr. O'Brien arrived in London only last night, and I could not dream of asking him to start again for Ireland this evening. Besides, Alfred, I am sure, could not get ready in time, and you must not go alone. Take her upstairs now, Kate, and make her rest till luncheon. Take her away, Kate."
"But," she persisted, as Mrs. Paulton guided her reluctant steps to the door, "I am used to being alone."
"Not travelling alone. I must have my way this time."
"But I really am used to travelling alone."