dilapidated garden and read them steadily. She was rather pleased than
otherwise at her mother's sudden and unlooked-for solicitude with
regard to her education. She thought it would be pleasant to learn
even under her mother's rather peculiar method of tutelage; but, as
she stood on the terrace looking across the exquisite summer scene,
two of the dogs, Creena and Cushla, came into view. They rushed up to
Nora with cries and barks of welcome. Down went the books on the
gravel, and off ran the Irish girl, followed by the two barking dogs.
A few moments later she was down on the shore. She had run out without
her hat or parasol. What did that matter? The winds and sea-breezes
had long ago taken their own sweet will on Nora's Irish complexion;
they could not tan skin like hers, and had given up trying; they could
only bring brighter roses into her cheeks and more sweetness into her
dark-blue eyes. She forgot her troubles, as most Irish girls will when
anything calls off their attention, and ran races with the dogs up and
down the shore. Nora was laughing, and the dogs were barking and
gamboling round her, when the stunted form of Hannah Croneen was seen
approaching. Hannah wore her bedgown and her short blue serge
petticoat; her legs and feet were bare; the breezes had caught up
her short gray locks, and were tossing them wildly about. She looked
very elfin and queer as she approached the girl.

"Why, then, Miss Nora, it's a word I want with you, a-colleen."

"Yes--what is it, Hannah?" answered Nora. She dropped her hands to
her sides and turned her laughing, radiant face upon the little
woman.

"Ah, then, it's a sight for sore eyes you are, Miss Nora. Why, it is
a beauty you are, Miss Nora honey, and hondsomer and hondsomer you