They walked back to the house together, and as they
went down the path very little was said. Just
as they were about to come out upon the open lawn,
while they were still under cover of the rocks and
shrubs, Phineas stopped his companion by standing before
her, and then he made his farewell speech to her.
“I must say good-bye to you. I shall be
away early in the morning.”
“Good-bye, and God bless you,” said Lady
Laura.
“Give me your hand,” said he. And
she gave him her hand. “I don’t suppose
you know what it is to love dearly.”
“I hope I do.”
“But to be in love! I believe you do not.
And to miss your love! I think,—I
am bound to think that you have never been so tormented.
It is very sore;—but I will do my best,
like a man, to get over it.”
“Do, my friend, do. So small a trouble
will never weigh heavily on shoulders such as yours.”
“It will weigh very heavily, but I will struggle
hard that it may not crush me. I have loved you
so dearly! As we are parting give me one kiss,
that I may think of it and treasure it in my memory!”
What murmuring words she spoke to express her refusal
of such a request, I will not quote; but the kiss
had been taken before the denial was completed, and
then they walked on in silence together,—and
in peace, towards the house.
On the next morning six or seven men were going away,
and there was an early breakfast. There were
none of the ladies there, but Mr. Kennedy, the host,
was among his friends. A large drag with four
horses was there to take the travellers and their luggage
to the station, and there was naturally a good deal
of noise at the front door as the preparations for
the departure were made. In the middle of them
Mr. Kennedy took our hero aside. “Laura
has told me,” said Mr. Kennedy, “that
she has acquainted you with my good fortune.”
“And I congratulate you most heartily,”
said Phineas, grasping the other’s hand.
“You are indeed a lucky fellow.”
“I feel myself to be so,” said Mr. Kennedy.
“Such a wife was all that was wanting to me,
and such a wife is very hard to find. Will you
remember, Finn, that Loughlinter will never be so full
but what there will be a room for you, or so empty
but what you will be made welcome? I say this
on Lady Laura’s part and on my own.”
Phineas, as he was being carried away to the railway
station, could not keep himself from speculating as
to how much Kennedy knew of what had taken place during
the walk up the Linter. Of one small circumstance
that had occurred, he felt quite sure that Mr. Kennedy
knew nothing.
Phineas Finn Returns to Killaloe
