thought Creena could not live; but look at her now--her coat as
black as jet, and so silky."

"Shut the door, won't you, Patrick?" said his wife.

"Bless me! I forgot," said the Squire. He crossed the room, and,
with an effort after quietness, closed the door with one foot; then
he seated himself by his wife's side.

"Better, Eileen?" he said, looking at her anxiously.

"I wish you would not call me Eileen," she said. "I hate to have my
name Irishized."

The Squire's eyes filled with suppressed fun.

"Ah, but you are half-Irish, whether you like it or not," he said.
"Is not she, colleen? Bless me, what a day it has turned out! We are
getting summer weather at last. What do you say to going for a drive,
Eileen--Ellen, I mean? Black Bess is eating her head off in the
stables. I want to go as far as Murphy's place, and you might as well
come with me."

"And I too?" said Nora.

"To be sure, child. Why not? You run round to the stables, Norrie,
and give the order."

Nora instantly left the room, the dogs following her.