She caught Nora's hand; they dashed down the wide, carpetless stairs,
crossed a huge hall, and entered a room which was known as the
drawing room at Cronane. It was an enormous apartment, but bore the
same traces of neglect and dirt which the whole of the rest of the
house testified to. The paper on the walls was moldy in patches, and
in one or two places it had detached itself from the wall and fell
in great sheets to the ground. One loose piece of paper was tacked
up with two or three huge tacks, and bulged out, swaying with the
slightest breeze. The carpet, which covered the entire floor, was
worn threadbare; but, to make up for these defects, there were
cabinets of the rarest and most exquisite old china, some of the
pieces being worth fabulous sums. Vases of the same china adorned
the tall marble mantelpiece, and stood on brackets here and there
about the room. There were also some exquisite and wonderfully
carved oak, a Queen Anne sofa, and several spindle-legged chairs. An
old spinet stood in a distant window, and the drab moreen curtains
had once been handsome.

Standing on the hearth, with his elbow resting on the marble
mantelpiece close to a unique vase of antique design, stood Squire
O'Shanaghgan. He was talking in pleasant and genial tones to Mrs.
Murphy, a podgy little woman, with a great likeness to Biddy.

Mrs. Murphy wore a black alpaca dress and a little three-cornered
knitted shawl across her shoulders. She had gray hair, which curled
tightly like her daughter's; on top of it was a cap formed of rusty
black velvet and equally rusty black lace. She looked much excited
at the advent of the Squire, and her cheeks testified to the fact by
the brightness of their color.