"Don't, mother," said Nora, with a look of pain. She started to her
feet. At that moment loud, strong steps were heard in the hall; a
hearty voice exclaimed:

"Where's Light o' the Morning? Where have you hidden yourself,
witch?"

"It's father," said Nora. She said the words with a sort of gasp of
rejoicing, and the next moment had dashed out of the room.




CHAPTER II.


"SOME MORE OF THE LAND MUST GO."

Squire O'Shanaghgan was a tall, powerfully built man, with deep-set
eyes and rugged, overhanging brows; his hair was of a grizzled gray,
very thick and abundant; he had a shaggy beard, too, and a long
overhanging mustache. He entered the north parlor still more noisily
than Nora had done. The dogs yelped with delight, and flung
themselves upon him.

"Down, Creena! down, Cushla!" he said. "Ah, then, Nora, they are as
bewitching as yourself, little woman. What beauties they are
growing, to be sure!"

"I reared them," said Nora. "I am proud of them both. At one time I