"Ah, then, what would tire me? is it a mile of a walk, and the road under my feet? I could walk to Boher-na-Milthiogue and back this minute."
By this time they had come to the end of the lane turning up to Rathcash House.
"I'm glad to find you are not tired, Winny. You may as well come on toward the cross; I have something to say to you."
"And welcome, Tom; what is it?"
Winny felt that the thing was coming, and she wished to appear as careless and unconscious as possible. When she recollected all Kate Mulvey had said to her, she was just in the humor to have it over. Upon reflection, too, she was not sorry that it should so happen before the grand passage between her and her father upon the same subject. She could the more easily dispose of the case with him, having already disposed of it with Tom himself. She therefore went on, past the end of her own lane; and Tom, taking this for an unequivocal token in his favor, was beginning to get really fond of her—at least he thought so.
"Well, Winny, I'm very glad I happened to meet you, and that you seem inclined to take a walk with me; for to tell you the truth, Winny, I can't help thinking of you."
"Perhaps you don't try, Tom."
"True for you, Winny dear; I wouldn't help thinking of you if I could, and I couldn't if I would."
"Is that the way with you, Tom?"
But Winny did not smile or look at him, as he had hoped she would have done.