the Squire, "so it strikes me we are both pretty equal in our
sentiments." He patted her cheek, she linked her hand in his, and
they walked together down one of the sunny meadows.

Nora thought of Neil, but determined not to trouble her father about
him just then. Notwithstanding her cheerfulness, her own heart was
very heavy. She possessed, with all her Irish ways, some of the
common sense of her English ancestors, and knew from past experience
that now there was no hope at all of saving the old acres and the
old house unless something very unexpected turned up. She understood
her father's character too well; he would be happy and contented
until a week before the three months were up, and then he would
break down utterly--go under, perhaps, forever. As to turning his
back on the home of his ancestors and the acres which had come to
him through a long line, Nora could not face such a possibility.

"It cannot be; something must happen to prevent it," she thought.

She thought and thought, and suddenly a daring idea came into her
mind. All her life long her mother's relations had been brought up
to her as the pink of propriety, the souls of wealth. Her uncle,
George Hartrick, was, according to her mother, a wealthy man. Her
mother had often described him. She had said that he had been very
angry with her for marrying the Squire, but had confessed that at
times he had been heard to say that the O'Shanaghgans were the
proudest and oldest family in County Kerry, and that some day he
would visit them on their own estate.

"I have prevented his ever coming, Nora," said Mrs. O'Shanaghgan;
"it would be such a shock to him. He thinks we live in a castle such