"Why ever did ye go ballyragging Malachi?" she exclaimed. "He's not a boy to be put out when he's over the horses. Leave him to himself and come with me. Biddy and I and the curate, Mr. Flannigan, are going to have a jolly play." "I'm willing to come," said Till. "Well, you must be prepared to run, while the others follow. I say, Till, whatever nonsense did you talk to Malachi about the pushkeen's horse?" "I said it wasn't a horse fit for a shopkeeper," replied Tilly. "Well, and whoever said it was? It is for the pushkeen, the sweetest pet in the world. Why, me old father, he is fit to devour her with love." "For all that she is the shopkeeper," said Tilly. "She keeps a shop at Arles. She goes to the shop; every day of her life, when there, and sells things and calls herself _la petite_ Comtesse, and they all buy from her, more especially the farmers' wives, and she puts on the price like anything. She's a real, real shopkeeper, but I can't see why she should get a beautiful horse like Starlight, and I should have nothing but a stupid old mare who will hardly stir her stumps. You come in, Norah, flying over every obstacle, and there's that beauty being got ready for the pushkeen as you call her. But I know what she is--the shopkeeper of Arles." "I don't believe it for a single moment," said Norah, but her pretty old-young face turned a little white. "Look here, Till," she said. "You keep that bit of gossip safe in your breast and don't let it out for the Lord's sake, or there'll be a hue and a cry. There now, you understand what I mean. There's no sense in it. My word! A daughter of the Desmonds a shopkeeper! Get out with you and don't be such a fool!" "I'm not a fool and I know who I'll tell it to," said Till, who was now bursting with rage. She had only two more days at delightful Desmondstown. Little it mattered to her that the house was half bare, that the food was a trifle coarse. Was there not life in the place, and nobody scolded, and no one was cross? She did not want to go. She would get that old man Desmond to let her stay a good bit longer. Why should Margot, who kept a shop, have everything and she, Matilda Raynes, have nothing but the use of an old mare? And she must go back, oh, in a couple of days now, to her dreadful stepmother and her cross, cross father. But, but she would have her revenge first. She did not care what happened if only she had her revenge. While the old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan and Tilly were playing the celebrated game of "Puss in the Corner," Malachi, his face all alight with joy, entered his father's sanctum.