Out of the West

Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18805, 29 November 1932, Page 4

Out of the West

SYNOPSIS. mother are, through comparative poverty, obliged to let furnished their old family seat, inlsroe Han, In the West of Ireland The letting Is In the hands of an agent, Joseph MacDonagh, who finds tenants for the summer—a Mr and Mrs Silas Brandon, rich Americana, with one son, who is at a University In England. Sheelagh and her mother (with a favourite dog and pony) take up residence a rew miles away In the house or a former tennat farmer named Coolln. There Sheelagh learns of the love between Tsora Coolln and Rory, the gardener at inlsroe Hail. Riding past the ruins or Inisroe Abbey; Sheelagh sees two men frantically digging. According to legend, in the grounds or the Abbey large quantities of gold anu silver were once burled, but In spite or local ralth In the 'legend, all attempts to locate the treasure have been futile. One or the men Is Larry Shaughnessy, Inlsroe's most famous wastrel. The other is a stranger. Shortly arterwards Sheelgah meets Larry, but he denies ever digging In the grounds. Sheelagh visits the ruins, but although she saw the two men digging there not long ago, the ground is apparently untouched. Silas Brandon’s forebears were Irish, and it is the desire to visit the home or his ancestors, wealthy where they were poor, that Impels him to make the Journey. His only son. Terence, Is at Oxford; and Is now expected home for-the Long Vacation. Looking out to sea from his bedroom window one night Terry sees a boat being rowed along tlie shore. Next morning bathing he sees this boat In a narrow inlet near the Abbey ruins. Going towards the ruins lie meets two men (one Larry Shaughnessy) who engage him in talk, and It Is only afterwards the Idea comes to him that ho had been purposely kept rrom entering the Abbey grounds. Sheelagh takes a ride on her pony past the gates or her ancestral home, and Is seen by Terry. Riding home Sheelagh is accosted by a drunken foreigner, but Larry Shaughnessy comes to the rescue. Farmer Coolln meets with an accident and has to stay In bed. Mrs Coolln cannot leave him, and Sheelagh ofTers to take her place with Nora at the market the following day. She poses as Nora’s cousin, and wears an old red cloak, heavy shoes and thick woollen stockings.

CHAPTER XVII. While Mrs Beaufort had agreed when it was first suggested that Sheeiagh should take Mrs .Coolin’s place at the market, she was not enthusiastic about her repealing the experience. She had heard from Nora, who treated it as a joke, how the regular customers had asked, who Sheelagh was, and of their amazement at- the apparent discovery that she was a daughter of whom they had not previously been aware. Mrs Beaufort had also been informed through various channeds of Sheeiagh’s encounter with the Spanish sailor, and the intervention of Larry Shaughnessy. “That must have been the day you went over to Inlsroe?” she asked. “Yes," replied Sheelagh, and again burst into an enthusiastic description of the improvements made there: “The drive has been re-gravelled, and the hedge and bushes are so neat "that I felt’as though really I had no night there,” she went on. I-ler mother laughed. “As we had let it to other people, perhaps you actually had no right there. It’s a wonder you met none of them.” “That was the cause of all the trouble," smiled Sheelagh. “I did meet some one; or, rather saw some one. There was a young man coming out of Biddy’s stable—the one 'they had knocked into a garag r e, you know — and ” “How awfully embarrassing. What did he say?” “I didn’t stop to hear. I boltedwith Mick.” Whatever amusement Mrs Beaufort derived her daughter's account of her flight, was soon dispelled when she heard of tier meeting with the drunken Spaniard at the edge of the wood. Although she agreed with Sheeiagh’s retaliation with the ridingwhip, she understood the danger of meeting the man again. “Is he one of Shaughnessy’s friends?” she asked.

“I suppose so," replied Sheelagh, “but, as Larry knocked him down I don't know whether they are still friends. But he is one of a group, I believe —those men who appear to be always loafing about on flic bridge.” “What a pity you ran away from the Hall as you did." “That’s what T thought, but I didn’t want Mr Brandon to think ” “Mr Brandon!” The shocked expression of her mother caused a lovely blush to suffuse Sheeiagh’s face. “How did you know he was Air Brandon?" . “He told me—afterwards.” Before her mother could recover sufficiently to ask further questions, Sheelagh thought it advisable to explain. “I saw him at the market. ll,e spoke to me.” “What <a pity you carried out that ridiculous idea of selling butter at Dcrrydown!” said her mother angrily. “Don’t you think lam humiliated enough through having to let the house, without making matters worse by giving the Impression that you have to sell dairy produce as well?” "But he did not know who I was, mother!” “Don’t be foolish I Then why did he speak?” “Because he thought he knew me. There was a big difference in my appearance, and I convinced him that I was Mary, Mrs Godin's niece—or dangh ter—from Connemara.” “You were not quite sure, then?” asked her mother. Sheelagh laughed shortly, “Yes, daughter, I think I said. My mother was ill—yes—that was it—daughter.” “Taking liborlics wilh tlie truth, weren’t you?” “Well, perhaps a little, but I was with Nora, you know, and as her mother was at home it saved a great deal of explanation if 1 pretended lo lie Nora’s sister from Connemara.” .Mrs Beaufort smiled. "Why Connemara ?” “ Oil, 1 don’t know, mother, mnvournoen.” There was a note of pleading in Sheelagli's voice. “f thought Connemara was nnl 100 faraway, but far enough to aeeounl for the old customers nnl having seen me before. It was all very embarrassing, particularly when young Mr Brandon seemed sure lie bad met meal Inisroe. 1 had lo prelend for my own protection.’’ "II would have been rallier cheapening if lie thought you were spying on his people," agreed her niolher. “II would indeed. Bui he's a nice j boy, and lie bought some butter, polio must have been satisfied Ibal i was jtisl a country girl." Mrs Beaufort smiled doubt fully. "Maybe, of course. A eerlain type of young man delights in a lliriation with " “Mr Brandon Is a gentleman!" in - j terposed Sheelagh with a vehemence [

BY Herbert Galway. (Author of “The Squire of Redesby," "Fetters of Silk,” etc.) A Charming Irish Love Romance.

she immediately regretted. “ I was very glad to prove it later on," she continued, in reply to her mother’s interrogative eyebrows. She explained the circumstances of her rescue by Terry from the unwelcome attentions of the foreign sailor. “Did the man know you had struck him some time before'?" asked her mother anxiously. “That was what I dreaded, but I thing he only remembered seeing me in the market the same morning, and " “That finishes your foolish masquerading,” . “I’m afraid it will, mother, but I could not help It. jl was, never more grateful in my life than when Mr Brandon came along in his car." “Yes, I suppose you would he. I was afraid the race of gentleman was extinct. He found out who you were, I expect?” “Indeed he did not!" Sheelagh spoke with heightened colour. “He saw a poor country girl in distress, and came to her rescue like a—like a knight of old.” "Did he kill the dragon?” smiled her mother, who was amused with her daughter’s vehemence. “Yearly,” replied Sheelagh in a relieved tone. ' “lie knocked him down and so frightened hjm. that he ran away as fast as lie could.” “Of course, he knew he had met you at the market?” pursued her mother. “Oh, yes, and lie—er—lie was going back —lo Dcrrydown, I suppose, when he was just in time to . Ho was in his car, you know.” “I didn’t know," went on the even voice. “He brought you home, I suppose ?’’ “Not right home. I asked him to stop a little further down the road. I didn’t want Mrs Coolin to think ” “Oh, I quite understand.. What would any country woman think when she saw her daughter—or niece—coming home in a car with a rich young Englishman who ” “Mr Brandon is not English,” interrupted Sheelagh. "Oh, no, I’m sorry. I should have said American. I was just led away by tjie fact that he is at Oxford.” “Mr Brandon is Irish,” went on Sheelagh. “By adoption, I suppose. When Mr MacDonagh found me a tenant for Inisroe.” explained Mrs Beaufort, “he said the people were Americans. Mr Silas' Brandon is a millionaire stool manufacturer from Pittsburg, and his wife belo*gs to a well-known New York family. They have one child only—a son, who is at present study: ing at Oxford University. I fail to see how that makes them Irish!” “Mr Brandon told me,” persisted Sheelagh, “that his great-grandfather emigrated from this very district because he and his family were too poor to live here. He said there was a great famine at the time, and th« people had nothing to eat but potatoes. He agrees that they are American now, but I think he is quite right in claiming Irish ancestry.”' “Strange how anxious some people ore 'to tell you how poor they have been years and years ago.” “Oh, he wasn’t boasting, mother: Why anyone should boast of poverty I can’t imagine. But it was my fault really. I —-I told him —er —in the course of—of some remarks that he was English, and that was how lie came to explain.” “Quite a long conversation with a peasant girl, apparently.” “I wish you wouldn’t be sarcastic mother,” protested Sheelagh. a sudden moisture in her beautiful eyes. “He meant no harm, and I’m not quite an idiot.” “I know that, darling,” replied her mother, immediately relenting. “But I don’t like young men .who form sudden attachments for country girls, and tell them everything that the girls would like to hear.”

“You arc not quite fair to Mr ! Brandon, mother. lie lias said noth- ! ing to me that tie might not have said j to any other girl, and certainly noth- ] ing of which lie should be ashamed. I Instead, lie has proved himself a gen- I tleman —a real Irish gentleman!" Mrs Beaufort did not continue the | discussion. She had great faith in her j daughter's corniiionscnsc, hut deter- , mined to forbid any in ore masquerad- j ing as a farmer’s daughter—or niece, j as the case might he. \ Patrick Coolin endured very rest- j less nights during the early part of I the week, and if lie lost sleep through ; the _agony lie suffered liis wife was j equally deprived of rest through at- j tending to his wants. That the savage bull had broken no ! bones was little short of a miracle, j but the farmer was simply a mass of : bruises with their consequent aches j and pains. The work ol' the dairy do- | volved, in consequence, on Nora, and j she was grateful for wliat help Sliee- i lagh could give In - that important | direction. Nora was concerned, also, about the next market day. She hoped her mother would he able to take her us- j ual place with the butter, hut was ex- I tremely. doubtful.. Site knew Slicelagli j had suffered considerable embarrass- j ment during her brief experience at the stall, and was diffident about sug-'j gesting that she should again take 1 Mrs Coolin’s -place. j Whatever her mother's views, ; Sheelagh had an open mind on the j subject of any, further offer to lake over the duties of a dairymaid. If the farmer’s wife was still to be confined lo the house through her husband’s illness, it was obvious someone would have 10. take her place in the market. Nora certainly could not do it alone. On the other hand, Sheelagh felt an increasing nervousness regarding the man who had twice molested her. hut who, perhaps, was not aware that the lady who struck him with ihe whip and the country girl on the way home from market, were one and Ihe same. Terry Brandon had promised lo call there also on the chance of seing her, ami she had llie comforting thought that even if she did encounter the foreign sailor again—which was not | at all certain—-the young IrishAmerieaii would be only 100 pleased lo ael as lu-r guardian.

Perhaps, after all. she would gold the market again, if necessary. Iml, she fell it would be almost impossible, lo continue much longer her pose as a relative, of Hie farmer’s wife. Site liked Terry Brandon's transparent honesty and chivalry, and wondered what, he would say if he knew her molher was the owner of the ancestral residence i'liat his I’alher had rented for the summer. The sight of Nora, crossing over ie the milking sheds, drove away further id 1 1• speculation, and she went out lo help. (To be Continued.)