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Mona and Geoffrey have gone to their own pretty house, and are happy there as they deserve to be,—Mona proving the most charming of chatelaines, so naive, so gracious, so utterly unaffected, as to win all hearts. Indeed, there is not in the county a more popular woman than Mrs. Geoffrey Rodney. "Oh! haven't you heard?" cries she. "Sure the country is ringing with it. Don't you know that they tried to shoot Mr. Moore last night?" The man who manages the farm generally—and is a plague and a blessing at the same time to his master—appears round a corner, and declares, respectfully, that he will be ready in a "jiffy" to accompany Miss Mona, if she will just give him time to "clane himself up a bit.".
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"I have nothing in my head," says Mona, tearfully. "No. All the county people round when they heard of me—which, according to my own mental calculations on the subject, must have been exactly five minutes after my arrival—quite adopted me. You are a very hospitable nation, Mrs. Rodney; nobody can deny that. Positively, the whole time I was in Limerick I could have dined three times every day had I so chosen." The Thunder sat at the back of the lodge and looked at him with awful eyes. The man looked above and saw hanging there many pairs of eyes. Among them were those of his wife. Now, the son-in-law was a person of much mysterious power, and he kept the buffalo hidden under a big log-jam in the river. Whenever he needed food and wished to kill anything, he would take his father-in-law with him to help. He would send the old man out to stamp on the log-jam and frighten the buffalo, and when they ran out from under it the young man would shoot one or two with his arrows, never killing more than he needed. But often he gave the old people nothing at all to eat. They were hungry all the time, and at length they began to grow thin and weak..
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