It was with universal relief that at length they rose from the table and filed out into the hall. There, however, a new interruption awaited them. In the shadow of a doorway they caught sight of Hannah, arrayed in her Sunday bonnet and shawl, and still breathless from the walk from Orristown. At sight of the little party she came forward with a certain ungainly shyness; but catching a glimpse of Clodagh, love conquered every lesser feeling. "Let me have wan last look at her!" she exclaimed softly. "That's all I'm wantin'." And as Clodagh turned impulsively towards her, she held out her arms. "Sure, I knew her before any wan of ye ever sat eyes on her!" she explained, the tears running down her cheeks. "Go on now, miss--ma'am," she added brokenly, pushing Clodagh forward towards the door, and turning to Milbanke with an outstretched hand. "Good-bye, sir! And God bless you!" Her sing-song voice fell, and her hard hand tightened over his. "Take care of her!" she added. "An' don't be forgettin' that she's nothin' but a child still, for all her fine height and her good looks." She spoke with crude, rough earnestness; but at the last words her feelings overcame her. With another spasmodic pressure, she released his fingers and, turning incontinently, disappeared into the back regions of the cottage. For a moment Milbanke remained where she had left him, moved and perplexed by her hurried words; then, suddenly remembering his duties, he crossed the hall and punctiliously offered his arm to Clodagh. "The carriage is waiting," he said gently. But Clodagh shook her head. "Please take Nance first," she murmured in a low, constrained voice. He acquiesced silently, and as he moved away from her, she turned to Mrs. Asshlin. "Good-bye, Aunt Fan!" she said. "And tell Larry that I'm--that I'm sorry. He'll know what it means." Her carefully controlled voice shook suddenly, as pride struggled with affection and association. Suddenly putting her arms round Mrs. Asshlin's neck she kissed her thin cheek; and, turning quickly, walked forward to the waiting carriage. There was a moment of excitement; a spasmodic waving of handkerchiefs, the sound of a stifled sob and the tardy throwing of a slipper; then, with a swish of the long driving whip, the horses bounded forward, and the great lumbering carriage swung down the hill that led to the Muskeere road.