Oh, never was there anything quite so delightful as that ride to the little pushkeen, and little, little did she suspect that her happy days at Desmondstown were coming so quickly to an end. She could dance by nature and she could ride by nature. What Desmond had ever funked a horse? And this child surely was a true Desmond, a chip of the old block. [Illustration: Never was there anything quite so delightful as that ride.--_Page 207._] The old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan were enjoying themselves at special games on the back lawn when little Margot flashed by in her new dark blue habit with her crimson cap and tassel. She came up quite close to the gate, but pulled in Starlight at a word from Malachi, and then the two horses and the man and the girl disappeared up the highroad. "Isn't she a purty little thing?" said Flannigan. Tilly felt a sense of madness coming over her. Now was her opportunity--now--now or never. She slipped away from the old-youngs and softly unhasping the door of The Desmond's sanctum entered and stood before him, her hands folded, her heart beating fast. The Desmond was gently going off into the land of dreams and Madam was motioning to Till to leave the room, but Till's chance had come and she would not lose it. "I want to speak," she said. "I want to speak to The Desmond. I won't keep him long. He can grant my request and then nothing need be done, or he can refuse it and then, behold, consider the fruit trees of all sorts, the strawberry beds, the raspberry canes, the roses!" "Who is talking, who is bothering me entirely?" exclaimed The Desmond. "I don't want to bother you, sir," said Tilly, although she had such a queer trembling in her limbs that she never exactly knew the meaning of gooseflesh before. "Oh you are Till Raynes," said the old man. "I couldn't get at the back of your name for a minute. What do ye want, alanna? I'm sleepy and I want to doze. I want to doze while my pushkeen is out." "Oh, do you indeed?" said Tilly, who, as is often the case, got less nervous as the time went on. The old man raised his jet-black eyes and looked at the girl. "What do ye want, young English miss?" he said. He looked very severe and very stately. Tilly's voice began to choke a little. "You are The Desmond," she said. "I'm that, who doubts it?" "I don't, sir; only you, you frighten me a bit, and I don't like to see you deceived." "Arrah, then, get out of this!" said The Desmond. "Play with the young gurrls and don't keep botherin' me." "I will, in one minute; I will, really, only I have something dreadful to tell you." "Not about my pushkeen? God Almighty help us, not about my pushkeen!" "Listen to me, sir," said Tilly. "May I stay here as long as your pushkeen stays, and may I ride Starlight every second day? If you say yes to those two things sir, everything will be right and you'll never, never _know_." The Desmond rose slowly and ponderously from his chair.