“I’m awfully sorry to have interrupted your heart-to-heart talk; but the fact is, Mr. Linton, I’m simply bursting with an idea, and I had to hurry over and put it before you.” Sir John spoke eagerly, turning to Norah with a laugh. “Is it a good moment to approach him, Norah? I want him to promise to do something.” “He ate a noble breakfast,” said Norah, gravely. “And he’s nearly finished his pipe. I should think the moment’s favourable. Anyway, it will have to be now, because I simply can’t wait to hear what it is!” “You see, we know your ideas, O’Neill,” Mr. Linton said, laughing. “They generally combine a great deal of trouble for yourself with something quite new in the way of entertainment for us. This must be particularly outrageous, as you want me to promise beforehand. I think you had better make a clean breast of it.” “Well, it’s this,” Sir John answered. “The weather is glorious, and the glass is high; it’s useless weather for fishing, and I think you have explored this neighbourhood pretty thoroughly. The motor holds six quite easily. What do you say to a trip north—a little tour, to last about a week?” Subdued gasps came from Norah, Jim, and Wally. Mr. Linton laughed outright. “What did I tell you?” he demanded. “Not at all,” responded Sir John. “I think”—unblushingly—“that Con needs a change; and it would be an excellent way to give him one, if you would only be kind enough to help me. You surely wouldn’t refuse poor Con such a little thing!” “I’ve re-cast a good many of my ideas about Ireland,” David Linton said. “But to utilize five people to take one chauffeur for a change is certainly what I was brought up to call an Irish way of doing things! Seriously, however, O’Neill, your proposal is a very tempting one. Shall we put it to the committee?” “The committee says, ‘Carried _nem. con._’ I should say,” said Jim. “It would be simply top-hole. But isn’t it putting rather a strain on you and the motor?” “Certainly not—as far as I am concerned, a run in sea-air is all I need to make me quite fit again,” O’Neill answered. “What do you say about it, Norah?” “I’m speechless; and as for Wally, he’s leaning up against the ass for support,” said Norah, indicating Mr. Meadows, who grasped the hapless donkey fondly. “It’s the most glorious plan, Sir John; and it’s just like you, to think of it.” O’Neill’s delicate face flushed with pleasure. “You’re all such satisfactory people, because you’re never bored,” he said. “And then, you like Ireland, which makes everything delightful. Well, I thought we might have a look at Horn Head and Sheep Haven, Mr. Linton, and perhaps get across to The Rosses; or would you rather have no fixed plan, but just wander about, seeking what we may find? There are innumerable little bays and inlets up there, all rather fascinating; we should be between mountain and sea scenery, and the inns here and there are fairly good.”