A LUCKY BARGAIN.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXV, Issue 10, 20 August 1897, Page 21

A LUCKY BARGAIN.

(By Magdalen Rock, in Aye Maria.')

I. It was market day in Carndaisy ; and the farmera and farmers' wives und daughters, for many miles round the prosperous Ulster town, were disposing of their butter and eggs and fowls in the spacious market place, with a good deal of talk and gesticulating. In the principal Btreets the shop windows, with their carefullyarranged merchandise of various kinds, invited customers ; and before one of these a woman, who looked much older than she really was, stood ruefully contemplating the lavish display of hats and bonnets, jackets and costumes. Her gaze rested longest on a web of bright blue material that bore the legend, " Genuine bargain, four shillings per yard," and it was with a sigh that she at length turned her head away and moved a few steps onward. " Why, Mrs. Nugent, is it here you are ? " said a brisk, hearty voice beside her. " Sure I didn't think you were coming to the market this day." " I had little notion of it till yesterday, Mrs. O'Donnell," the woman addressed as Mrs. Nugent made answer. " But the doctor was seeing Jame3 and he recommended him to wear new flannel on account of the pains, and so I came out to buy a bit." Mrs. O'Donnell glanced quickly at Mollie Nugent's right hand, w hich was closed on a few coins of the realm, but she only said :—: — " Aye ; I believe flannel is good for rheumatism. And how is James ?" " Much as usual," Mollie responded, with a sigh that she tried to repress. " I wonder where a body would get the flannel cheapest / I—lI — 1 haven't a deal of money to put in it." And Mollie tried to smile. " Mr. Todd, they say, is selling things cheap enough," Mrs. O'Donnell remarked, looking toward the window that had attracted Mollies attention. '' And he's not over-hard to deal with. He threw a penny a yard off a piece of cotton I bought from him last Saturday." " Did he now ! But, then, you're a great one for getting a bargain, Mrs. O'Donnell." " Troth, then, that's what I am," Mrs. O'Donnell readily agreed. The speaker had been brought up in Carndaisy, and was supposed to have much more worldly wisdom than the womankind of the country district in which her marriage with Ned O'Donnell had placed her a year or so previously. " Tell me, what did the doctor say yesterday ? " Mrs. O'Donnell inquired, as she and her friend walked back toward T odd's. " He talked about nourishing food and a month at the sea," Mrs. Nugent said, in a. tremulous voice, '• and sure, ma'am, he might ah well have mentioned a journey to the moon." " Aye, aye 1 " Mrs. O'Donnell agreed. It was a marvel to many how James Nugent and his wife and two children managed to exibt. He had been employed at the time of bis marriage to Mollie Toner, and tor borne years afterward, as gardener at Derryioran Manor, the '"big house" ot the di.stnot , but lie had been speedily deprived of his place on his attack oi rheumatic fever nearly three years before. " Now, come on,"' Mrs. O'Donnell said, when she had ascertained the quantity of flannel required by Mollie , and so skilfully did !~he bargain with the owner ot the arehou^e th.it she vus able to lay three bhillings in Mrs. Nugent,' s bund when her purcha-o was complete. She did not say that one of them, onginalJy destined to provide a new ribbon for the bonnet bhe wore, had been abstracted Jtrom her own pocket. " There now 1 " she said, triumphantly, and Mrs. Nugent made an exclamation of astonishment as she lingered the money. She drew Mrs. O'Donnell back a little from the c .unter. " Do you think it would be wi»e to take three or four yatds of that blue stuff there ? It is cheap, and M try, the creature, is badly in need of a irouk." "That!" There was contempt in Mrs. O'Donnell's tone. "It is only a rag, and the colour woulan't stand the sun two days. No, but wait till 1 tell you. There is a tweed dress oi. one of the secondhand stalls round the corner that you d get for next to nothing." Her companion demurred. She had a countrywoman's diblike for second-hand garments. '• Nonsense !" Mrs. O'Donnell said, energetically. " The dress is not a half -penny the worse tor wear, and you'd gtt it for a couple of shillings. Ihen you could have a suit out of it lor Micky, I believe. Come on till we look at it, any way." Mrs. Nugent allowed herself to be led to the side street, where a number of vendor* of second-hand clothing had atti acted a crowd. Mrs. O'Donnell pointed out the article she admired on one of the stalls. Mrs. Nugent was persuaded. In a few moments the purchase was made, and the two women turned their faces homeward. Mrs. O'Donnell was lull of the cheapness of the twoed dress, and the bargains to be had at the old clothes' stall, so that it was some time belore the conversation turned on Mollies sick husband. "And 'tis two years and better you bay since he had the rheumatic fever / " Mrs. O'Donnell asked. " Nearly three," Mrs. Nugent answered, " and I doubt he'll never be the same man." "I'd be afraid of it," Mrs. O'Donncll said. " But many a time I thought that whoever owiib Derryloran Manor should have done something for him, on account of him being about tho place, as I believe he was, for a long time."

The Manor belongs to strangers now, Mrs. O'Donnell. Old Mr. Lyndsay left it to a cousin of his wife's — a Mr. Patehell, I think his name is ; and sure Richard Mason has the managing of everything." • " Ah, he's a man I can't abide ! " Mrs. O'Donnell declared decisively. '• I don't want to say any harm about him. Maybe he's better than he seems." "He may be," Mrs. O'Donnell replied, doubtfully. " Did he not dismiss James in the first week of his sickness ? " " Yes." " And because he wouldn't work for him one holy day 1 " " Well, we thought so," Mrs. Nugent admitted. "It was this way. Mason has a farm of his own, you know ; and one first of November he gathered a lot of hands to dig out his potatoes James, to be sure, couldn't go— he'd have given him a day and welcome at another time— and Mason told him he'd make him rue his Popish nonsense." " And he sent him off afterward 1 " "He did. He didn't interfere with him till he got sick to tell the truth," Mrs. Nugent Baid. Mrs. O'Donnell gave a little sniff. , " And did you never write and explain things to hia master 1 " Bhe asked. "We did that ; and Father Duff wrote also. But Mr Patehell said he couldn't interfere. He was just after coining into the property. * "Oh, I see!" Mrs. O'Donnell observed. "He waited to send James to the right-about till Mr. Lyndsay was dead. I suppose ha would have known James ? " " 'Deed he would Wasn't it himself that engaged James when he was only a lad 7 And any time he came to the Manor— and that wasn t often — he d have a word for him." ™ "rJt Lyn £^ y had ilOi 10 ° hildren of his own, I believe ; had he ? " Mrs. O'Donnell inquired, after a pause. " Oh, he had, to be sure ! He had one daughter— Miss Clara • but she never came to Ireland from the time her mother died She died when Miss Clara was seven or eight years old, of a fever she caught in some of the cottages about, so Mr. Lyndsay would never consent to let his daughter over here at all." "He might have let her to a worse place, then," Mrs. O'Donnell said, looking toward a small cabin from which a thin line of blue smoke was ascending. " Ned hasn't forgotten the fire, I see " she went on, " but how was it the daughter didn't get the place 1 " " Oh, you know she became a Catholic ! It was said too she went into a convent— but no one was sure of that— and her father was in a terrible state." " And that was why he wouldn't have her on the estate ! Well G u^/^f iT JL h S ! " Mrs> ODonnell exclaimed. Defrauding his own child like that ! "He never was in Ireland since," Mrs. Nugent said " I believe he lived with this Mr. Patehell, or maybe it was Mr. Patehell and his wife that lived with him. The Lyndsays, you know, had laree estates in England too," ° " Well, well, 'tis a queer world, any way ! " Mrs. O'Donnell said. as she reached the narrow lane that led to her abode " And Mrs Nugent, I'm after noticing that one of your shoes is in need of a patch, bend it over and Ned will mend it." '• Sure 'tis thankful I'll be if he will," Mrs. Nugent responded •' But maybe he has work enough to to." •' He's not bu«y now. Send Mary with it," Mrs. O'Donnell ordered, " and I hope you'll be able to get a nice wee frock for her out of my bargain." ir. " Do you know, Ned, I think I'll run across to Nugents' with a jugful of this soup ! " Mr<. O Donnell said to her spouse as they finished their dinner i.n the day after her visit to Carndaisy market " It is fine and nourishing." '• You may as well," Nod replied, as he rubbed his hands on the leathern apron he wore and took up a half-finished boot. " I mind when pour James was as smart as any of us." Mrs. O'Donnell tidied up her house ere she set out on her charitable errand. The good nuns of Carndaisy, whose pupil she had been, had given her some lessons in cookery that had proved useful to her ; and Ned, who had at one time his country people's contempt for broths and soups, marvelled at the excellent meals his brisk, enereretic wife manufactured out of a bit of bone and plenty of vegetables. J Mrs. O'Donnell reached her neighbour's house in a short time Several fragments of tweed lying about the kitchen showed that Mollie had been engaged in dressmaking ; but she herself was not visible. Mrs. O'Donnell coughed to announce her entrance and in a moment Mrs. Nugent, flushed and excited, came to the door of the room where her husband lay. " Mrs. O'Donnell, Mrs. O'Donnell, come here," she cried,— "come here till you see what I've found." Mrs. O'Donnell, nothing loath, stepped into the room. The much-admired tweed dress, partly ripped ouc, lay in a heap on the floor ; while James Nugent, as excited as his wife, was examining an open letter which he held in his hand. '•I can't make out no sense of it at all," the sick man said without any regard for his grammar or greeting for Mrs. O'Donnell'. " There's neither top nor tail, beginning nor end to it." " What is it ? " asked Mrs. O'Donnell, laying down the iuir she carried. 6 Mrs. Nugent, in all hor agitation, began to murmur a word of thanks. " Och, whist, woman, and let us hear what the letter's about " Mrs. O'Donnell said abruptly. ' "Tell her, Mollie," James Nugent sad. '• Well, about an hour ago I bogan to see what I could make out of that "—Mollie indicated the heap on the floor — "and inside the lining of the skirt I found that letter James has in his hand

and tbia." Mollie held forward a thin slip of paper ; and Mrs. O'Donnell, after one quick look at it, gave a cry of surprise. " Five pounds ! A. bank of England five-pound note, as sure as I m a pinner I " " It mayn't be good," James Nugent said. " Good ! As good as was ever made, then," Mrs. O'Donnell declared. " Now isn't it lucky ! Why, James can have a turn at the salt water now. " But it isn't ours, you know," observed Mrs. Nugent slowly. " Not yours ! And whose is it, then .' " Mrs. O'Donnell demanded sharply. " That I can't say. Maybe it shoald go to the man we bought the dresa from " " Him ! " Mrs. O'Donnell indignantly interrupted. " Why, like as not he got the gown for a few pennies." " Or maybe it is to the woman whose name ia on the outside of that letter it should go," Mrs. Nugent continued. " The letter and money (notes were money in Mr-. Nugcnt's belief) were together. The lining h«d been ripped a bit. '•Well, I uan't be; why yoa shouldn't keep it. Maybe it was that woman's and maybe it wasn't. What's the letter about ? " " Not a bit of me can tell," James Xugent made reply, handing the letter to Mrs. O'Douneil. " See if you can make anything out of it." His neighbour took the sheat in her hand and examined it carefully. '• It is to a Mrs. Cresswell, anyway," Mrs. O'Donnell said slowly, after a lengthy survey of the pages. " But what in the world it is I can't guess." " Oh, aye I the Mrs. Cress-well is plain enough and so is the address — Pont Street, London," James said. " Maybe 'tis in some foreign tongue," Mollie put in. "It doesn't look like any sense at all, at all." Mrs. O'Donnell returned the sheet to James. " I think the beat plan is to write at once to this Mrs. Cresswell," Mrs. Nugont said. "Maybe that writing is something she values ; it was carefully folded. And maybe she's in need of the money, too." '• And so I had to write for them there and then," Mrs. O'Donnell remarked, when relating the circumstances to her husband a couple of hours later. " Aye. and I sent the letter to the fast-office with a little lad of Rodgers' to get it registered. Now, don't think it would have been a great Bin for them to have kept that note. I would in a like case." " 'Deed you wouldn't," Ned O'Donnell answered. '• Not a bit of it." " But they need the money so badly. Well, I wonder will they get an answer ? " The answer that James Nugent and his wife soon received was certainly a surprising one and afforded a subject for conversation f>r many an after-day. Mrs. Crenswell was no other than the d mghter of Mr. Lyndsay, of Derrylorau Manor. She had not beo )ine a nun, but marne 1 a young Catholh journalist ; and the pair, after a hard struggle iv London, had been on the point of emb irking for Australia when they had received the letter written by Mrs- () Donneli and its enclosures. The note of which she and the Nugents could make ■• no sense at all " was in cipher, to which Mrs. Cr««Mwell held the key. Jt had been written by her father during his last illness. By it. it seemed that Mr. Patchol! and his wife had a q tired an as endency 0.-er him which h" could not resist ; and they had endeavoured to keep alive the bit.er leehngs he enti rtained towards h's daughter at the time ot her conversion to the Catholic faith. He had written several times to < 'lira, but he had reason to fear the letters never reached her. He had also been induced to mike a will bequeathing his property to the Patchells . but the letter went on to say that the writer nim>elf had mana/ed to draw up a will in favour ot his daughter and h-d signed it in presence of two of the servants. He ha 1 beju afraid to tr.ist the will to them, but he had placed it in a s> cret hiding-plat c, ot which the Patchelld did not know the existence. The writ'-r de-crib d the position of that place very minutely. It was possible the letter might fall into the hands ot Patchell or his wife, and th re ore he wrote in cipher. It ended with a prayer for p irJou tor his loag year* of harshness and neglect.

"It beat all ever I hear lor read of !" Mr* O'D mnell frequently declare--. " For old .Mr. Lyndsay's will was found in the idoniio.il spot he wroU; ot, and the Patohells were glad eno-j^h to ke-p quiet over the matter. Troth, I suppose th y could have'boen transported. Anyway they deserved to be. The two witnesses to the will wore h\ inland one of them contc^e i ho.v he had given Mrs. Patehell the old gentleman s letter t) his daughter, and he even remember d th.it she slipped it into the po ket of the drtwshe wore. Gool luck to ilu dressmaker who ma le that s line dn-V for the seams were not too well sewed and so 1. tter an I iive-poun 1 note as well slipped in between the lining and the m itenal. 1 suppose the lady gave th^ dres^ to her maid, v\ ho p avn.-d it,, like as noc. At any rate, it eatne to Uolhe Xugent's hands and well it was that it did ivaoh ho'ie^t hands. I'm a-ha ned to tell th it 1 did my best to induce M >ll,e to k <. p what -.he h .d iound —and she wa- in soie need or it at that same tiuu — but she w 0 lint.n t. bur pa ke 1 olf the five-pound u/c anl tin- letter in i 'ji'iei— ,\ Jiat \er 1 inguage that is— the vary day sh • luun.l il.em Dion t I writ.- the letter "to Mis Cresswell tor her and Jamus .' And P> d iy \l > uers n^istered it. And that's how it comes that Mr ;.n 1 M,--." Or- s-,\v i-ll .ne h\ uvj, at Derrylorau Manor at all. And James .\ugint is wondeitullv well. Sure they don't know what to make ot him and Mollie a"t the Manor. He has an elegant cottag ■id the paik a.id ju-t limps about among the flowers all day gnin» directions. And Alollie's as happy an a queen. I nev. r m>o her— and many a time Ido soe her— without thinking how I tried to make her ktep that fivepound note of Mrs. Patchcll'.s. Mh. Cre-»,vull sent it to her and more along with it. Ah, indeed there's truth m the saying that ' honesty's the best policy ' for this world as well .is the next."