rom the fire. "Sure, what would I be manin'?"

"But you do mean something. What is it?"

Hannah went on with her task.

Clodagh stamped her foot.

"Hannah, what is it?"

"Nothin'. Sure, nothin' at all. I'm only sayin' what quare notions men
takes."

"But you mean something else. What is it?"

Hannah stolidly continued to rake out the remnants of the fire.

"I know nothin'," she said obstinately. "Ask Mrs. Laurence."

"But you do. I know by your voice. What is it?"

An alert, unconscious note of apprehension had crept into Clodagh's
tone. Her lips suddenly tightened, her eyes became wide.

"What is it, Hannah?" she exclaimed. "What's the reason he wants to
marry me?"

"Sure no rason at all."

"Oh!"

Clodagh made a gesture of anger and disgust. Then she made a fresh
appeal.

"Hannah, please----"

But Hannah went on with her work. Years of shrewd observation had
taught her the power of silence.

"Then you won't tell me?"

There was no response.

"Hannah!"

At last the old servant turned, as though pressed beyond endurance.

"Well," she said, with seeming reluctance, "maybe he'd be thinkin'
'twould be aisier for wan of the Asshlins to be drawin' out of her
husband's pocket than to be----"

But Clodagh interrupted. She turned suddenly, her cheeks burning, her
eyes ablaze.

"Hannah!" she cried in sharp, pained alarm.

But Hannah had said her say. With her old, imperturbable gesture she
turned once more to her task.

"I know nothin'," she murmured obstinately. "If you're wantin' more,
ask Mrs. Laurence."

For a while Clodagh stood, transfixed by the idea presented to her
mind. Then, action and certainty becoming suddenly indispensable, she
turned on her heel. "Very well!" she said tersely--"very well! I will
ask Aunt Fan."

And with as scant ceremony as she had entered it, she swept out of the
kitchen.

As the door banged, Hannah glanced over her shoulder, her red face
brimming with tenderness.

"Wisha, 'tis all for the best!" she murmured aloud--"'tis all for the
best. But God forgive me for hurtin' a hair of her head!"

With feet that scarcely felt the ground beneath them, Clodagh sped
along the stone passages that led to the hall, and from thence ascended
to the bedrooms. Her senses were acutely alive, her mind alert with an
unbearable apprehension. A new dread that, by the power of intuition,
had almost become a certainty impelled her forward without the
conscious action of her w