“How did you come to be boycotted?” inquired Harold, with some curiosity, as soon as he found himself alone with Jack.
“Oh, it doesn’t take much talent to accomplish that nowadays,” answered the young Irishman, with a laugh. “In the first place, the governor has a habit of asking for his rent, which is an unpopular proceeding at the best of times. In the second place, I bought half a dozen bullocks from a boycotted farmer out Limerick way.”
“And is that all?” asked Harold, in astonishment. Notwithstanding his regard for his friend, he had never doubted that there must have been some appalling piece of persecution to justify this determined ostracism.
“All!” echoed Jack, laughing. “You don’t know much of Ireland, my boy, or you wouldn’t ask that question. We bought cattle that had been raised by a farmer on land from which a defaulting tenant had been evicted. Men have been shot in these parts for less than that.”
“Pleasant state of affairs,” remarked the New-Yorker.
“I don’t much care,” Jack went on, lightly. “We’re promised a couple of Emergency men from Ulster in a few days, and that will take the weight of the work off our hands. It isn’t as if it were a busy time. No crops to be saved in winter, you see, and no farm work except stall-feeding the cattle. That can’t wait.”
“But your sisters—all the work of that big house—” began Harold, who was thinking of Polly.
“We expect two Protestant girls down from Belfast to-morrow. That’ll be all right. We get all our grub from Dublin,—they won’t sell us anything in Ballydoon,—and we mean to keep on doing so, boycott or no boycott. We have been about the best customers to the shopkeepers round here, and it’ll come near ruining the town—and serve them right,” the young man added, with the first touch of bitterness he had displayed in speaking of the persecution of his family.
By next day the situation had improved. A couple of servant-girls arrived from the north. They were expected, and accordingly Dick was on hand with the jaunting-car to meet them and drive them from the station. The Emergency men had not yet appeared, so Jack and such of his brothers as were old enough to be of use were kept pretty busy round the place. Harold had wished to return to England and postpone his visit till a more convenient time, but to this no one would listen. He made no trouble; he was not a bit in the way; in fact, he was a great help. So said they all, and the young New-Yorker was quite willing to believe them.
He did occasionally offer assistance in stable or farm-yard, but he much preferred to spend his time rambling over the old place, admiring the lawns, the woods, the gardens, all strangely silent and deserted now. Miss Connolly was often his companion. The importation from Belfast relieved her of some of the pressure of household cares, and since her brothers were fully occupied, it devolved upon her to play host as well as hostess, and point out to the stranger the various charms of Lisnahoe.