heart beat somewhat quicker as she thus made me the confidant of her anxiety, and I ardently wished that it was in my power to shield her from all care. At that moment I recalled to mind the incident I have before mentioned as occurring during my ride to Cashel from Knockgriffin after my first visit there, and it struck me more forcibly than ever that the man I had seen peering at me through the hedge might have been lying in wait for Sir Denis Barnett.
“Does your brother experience any anxiety at this time?” I asked.
“Not in the least. Like almost all Tipperary landlords who choose to live on their property, he finds it necessary to cast aside all doubts and fears. Unless armed with a never-failing courage, a landowner in this county would, as it were, suffer a hundred deaths in the year. Denis is determined to dread no one or nothing, and never to flinch from any act that ho thinks proper among his tenantry. Were I he I would just do the same; but you see, Captain Stapleton, the misfortune is our lot being cast as it is. We are Tipperary people. We do not wish to abandon our ancestral home; thus we must only be brave and bear things heroically, if possible.”
We were now at the further end of the conservatory, and opening the door that led to a tastefully planned pleasure-ground, my companion stepped out. The moon had already risen, a few stars trembled in the sky, the air was perfumed with many odours of fragrant shrubs glistening in the silvery softened light. There was not a breath of air stirring, no sound save the hoarse cry of the train coming from distant meadows. Had it been England we might have had the song of a nightingale to charm the ear, but one of the wants of Ireland is the absence of this warbler of summer evenings. As if unconsciously, Miss Barnett passed on through the grounds, and I could only follow her course obediently. She seemed rather pre-occupied, and this lent her a new interest in my eyes, but animated or pensive, grave or gay, sad or merry, it was all pretty much the same to me now. I was already very far on the way to falling in love, if not altogether arrived at that state. When we turned to go back to the house we met Sir Percy Stedmole who had also passed out of the conservatory to take a stroll in the moonlight “Not afraid of taking cold, Miss Barnett?” he asked, as he flung away the cigar he had commenced to smoke.
“Not on such a night as this, Sir Percy,” she replied, a little frigidly I thought; “you know we wild Tipperary women do not dread wind and weather like your English ladies.”
“I wish our English women were half as charming as their Irish sisters,” he added, in a low tone that jarred upon me.
“Do not be false even for compliment sake, Sir Percy. You know you have an undervaluing opinion of everything Irish. You have never got rid of your English prejudices.”
“Pardon, my fair traducer. Whatever I may think of this ill-starred country, I would be blind or a fool if I attempted to deny the beauty and grace of the gentler portion of its inhabitants.”
“But that much of concession will never satisfy a true-born Irish woman; we want more than admiration for ourselves,—we must have sympathy, justice, pity, and allowances made with sincerity for the failings of the whole people. The Sassenach who comes among us prepared only to see faults and condemn, will never find favour even though he make an exception on the side of feminine loveliness. You hear me, Captain Stapleton, so take warning in time.”
She opened the conservatory door while speaking and passed on towards the drawing-room, while I mentally exclaimed,—“She is peerless, let her belong to what country she may!”
We had music during the evening, and while Miss Barnett sang Sir Percy hung over her chair, turning the leaves of her music-book pertinaciously, and evidently desirous of being most agreeable and attentive; yet it seemed to my jealous fancy that she did not receive his advances encouragingly, though perhaps I could judge little from that. Women are so bound by conventional rules that they seldom permit observers to understand their real feelings with regard to an unacknowledged courtship. I was very uneasy about the matter, and at times full of despair when I thought of my paltry income and my want of any better prospect for the future. Of course I experienced many silly feelings that perhaps I might not at that time have confessed for worlds.
The chamber allotted to me at Knockgriffin was large, luxurious, and elegant, bespeaking the wealth and taste of the owner of the mansion, like the rest of the premises. As I was passing through the hall on my way to this room, when we had separated for the night, I observed Sir Denis making a survey of the doors and windows with some care.
“You are obliged to be careful in barricading the houses about here, I suppose?” said I en passant; “it would never do in Tipperary to trust marauders with any opening.”
My host shook his head and smiled.
“On the contrary, our care must be on the other title; we must not lock or bar our doors