Authors: Sara Seale
She took one of the lamps, and Joe and Kathy followed her into the hall. They visited all the rooms, the drawing room with its shrouded furniture, and long, uncurtained
windows, faded outlines on the walls marking where once a tallboy or cabinet had stood.
“
We needn
’
t use the drawing room,
”
Sarah said.
The library, smelling of must, its shelves presenting many gaps in the rows of old books.
“
Aunt
Em
can find some job lots at the sales. The chairs are comfortable,
”
Sarah said.
The dining room—
“
What a good thing
I refused that offer for the table. We
’
ll have to eat in here. The dining room should impress them, shouldn
’
t it, Joe?
”
Joe smiled. Sarah
’
s enthusiasm was catching, and he supposed the big room with its polished mahogany,
its
heavy, old-fashioned silver, and dusty tapestry was impressive in a rather gloomy fashion. The decay of Dun Rury had been so gradual that he had barely noticed it, but he realized now in a measure what Sarah was trying to preserve, though he doubted if she realized it herself. He looked at her now standing there with the lamp held high above her head, the light casting unfamiliar planes and shadows on the face he had known from childhood and always considered plain. She was not plain, this half-fledged, coltish creature, she was not plain at all. Only beside her exquisite sister she was drained of beauty.
He turned to Kathy, startled by the strange impression, and the gentle perfection of her loveliness flowed back into him, so that he involuntarily put a hand out to touch her.
She linked her fingers with his, smiling at him.
“I’ve always wanted to use this room,” she said softly. “I—I rather like formality.”
Sarah put down the lamp on the silver-ladened sideboard, and blew the dust off a discolored epergne.
“
Although we
’
ve sold so much silver, there seems an
a
wful lot left,
”
she said absently.
“
Yes, Kathy darling, you
’
d
grace our board most beautifully when the time comes. The lodgers
’
eyes will be popping. Shall we go upstairs and pi
c
k the bedrooms?
”
“
Not tonight,
”
Kathy said.
“
I want
—”
She stretched her arms above her head.
“
I don
’
t know what I want
.
”
She sighed, and Joe said softly:
“
Come and walk down to the lough. It
’
s a fine night and still
warm.
”
“
Not tonight, Joe,
”
she said, just as she had answered Sarah.
“
I think I
’
ll go back to the snug.
”
He did not immediately follow her, but joined Sarah who had wandered over to one of the windows and stood looking out at the moonlight.
“
She
’
s in a strange mood,
”
he said, and Sarah smiled.
“
Not really. She
’
s deciding whether to accept the idea of my lodgers, or remain Miss Riordan of Dun Rury prepared to be rescued with a good grace from the awkward straits of poverty.
”
He looked at her quickly, unfamiliar with her mood which seemed suddenly adult and a little disconcerting. She was wearing an old dress of Kathy
’
s which had been one of his favorites, he remembered, and he resented seeing it on Sarah who wore it so carelessly
.
“
Kathy hasn
’
t the insincerity to weigh things up so patly,
”
he said a little sharply.
“
Of course she hasn
’
t—not consciously—and anyway I shouldn
’
t call it insincere, only sensible. All I meant was, Joe dear, that this might be your chance to get what you want sooner than you expected. Kathy
’
s such a child—she
’
s influenced by situations. You love her very much, don
’
t you?
”
“
I
’
ve always loved her, as you know, but I
’
ve been quite content to wait,
”
he said simply.
She moved her head a little impatiently, and a shaft of moonlight fell across her face, accentuating the hollows beneath the fine bone structure.
“
I don
’
t understand people who are content to wait,
”
she said.
“
When I know what I want, I want it at once.
”
“
But you, my child, have never been in love,
”
he said with a smile.
She made a face at him.
“
Now you
’
re being elder brotherly, and you haven
’
t attained that status yet.
”
She smiled at him suddenly.
“
I have your interests very much at heart, Joe—dear Joe. I would like to have you for a brother.
”
He was touched and surprised as he often was when he remembered that she was two years younger than her sister.
“
And what you want you must have at once, I think you said,
”
he replied teasingly.
“
Well, perhaps not quite at once,
”
she said sedately.
“
Let
’
s go back to the snug.
”
CHAPTER
TWO
Sarah
’
s
project was forgotten, or shelved in the last gracious beni
s
on of summer. It was true Nonie had bee
n
talked round by Brian Kavanagh who had also sent off a suitable advertisement to several English papers, and Nolan had been set to distemper over the damp patches in the bedrooms, but the whole idea was still unreal and a little absurd, like one of Danny
’
s games. No one really believed in Sarah
’
s lodgers until the first letter came.
They had been for a picnic to St. Patrick
’
s Well, a favorite haunt in the heart of the hills, and Kathy was already lagging when they reached the south road which ran beside the lough.
“
It
’s
too far,
”
she said.
“
We need the donkey to carry the food. What did you let Timsy borrow him for?
”
“
His own is lame and he
’
s cutting turf,
”
Sarah replied absently.
“
Look! There
’
s Willie-the-Post. Hi, Willie! Have you anything for Dun Rury? It
’
ll save you a mile.
”
Wi
l
lie-the
Post got off his bicycle, grinned at them, dourly as he handed over a bundle of letters and rode away without a word. He seldom spoke unless he had gossip or
ill
tidings to impart, and it was no use asking him questions for he would not reply.
The Riordans sat down in the heather beside the road to sort through the post.
“
Sales catalogues
...
bills
...
lottery tickets
...
bills ... I wish we could win a lottery. Here
’
s one for you from Joe.
”
Sarah handed a letter to her sister with a smile, and Danny remarked with mild astonishment:
“
You only saw him on Sunday. Who
’
s that spidery writing from, Sarah?
”
“
I don
’
t know.
”
She opened it, frowning over the signature first, then over the strange address. She had forgotten all about Brian Kavanagh
’
s advertisement. But as she read, her eyes grew bright and her mouth curved in a wide grin.
“
It
’
s an applicant!
”
she cried.
“
Someone who wants to live with a typical Irish family and study the folk-lore of the people. Golly! Listen, Kathy
...”
“
Um?
”
Kathy looked up vaguely from her own letter
.
“
‘
You may or may not have heard of my name, but
I write stories for little people
—’ ”
Sarah read. She was
interrupted by Danny who enquired if she meant fairies and continued:
“
‘
—I have always wanted to stay with a
typical Irish family in
the wild west of Ireland and study the
folklore
of the people. You will
find me
most
adaptable and eager to enter into
all
your pursuits. You, Miss Riordan, I feel
sure,
are, like myself, ready to share your life with another lonely stranger, and I am sure could teach me
so much
that would enrich my work. I should be glad to know your terms and whether there is
indoor
or
outdoor
sanitation.
’
”
“
Cripes!
”
said Danny, awed.
“Heavens!” said Kathy.
They all three stared at each other with round eyes, then burst into fits of helpless laughter.
“Who is she?” asked Kathy, wiping her eyes.
Sarah consulted the signature. “Daisy Dearlove, Miss. And every second word is underlined.”
“She must think you’re an elderly-spinster like herself.”
“She may not be an elderly spinster. Perhaps she’s young and earnest.”
“
I should think
”
said Danny,
“
she
’
s loopy.
”
“
Do you know any folklore, Sarah?
”
“
No, do you?
”
“
I know the story about the Civil Guard and the publican
’
s wife,
”
began Danny, but Sarah frowned on him.
“
That
’
s not at all the same thing,
”
she said severely.
“
The wild west of Ireland, indeed! She must think we
’
re very primitive.
”
“
Well, we are,
”
said Kathy and sighed.
“
We are not, then! The sanitation is indoors and we don
’
t keep pigs in the kitchen.
”
“
But there
’
s no light, no telephone, and not always hot baths and no one ever visits us.
”
“
Joe does, and Tom Blake and the, Sullivan girls when they
’
re at home, and there
’
s old Major Yates who loves to come to supper when
his gout isn
’
t too bad.
”
“
Oh, Sarah!
”
Kathy
’
s gentle voice was impatient.
“
Are the local vet and a gouty old man enough for you?
”
“
I hadn
’
t thought,
”
Sarah said gently.
“
But I imagined that Joe was enough for you.
”
“
Joe! I
’
ve known him all my life! I never have
o
pportunities of meeting anyone else—neither do you, only you don
’
t seem to mind. If we
’
d had
money—”