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"Well said, Miss, well said!" cried Miss Proudfoot, who was a very good hand at whist and very quarrelsome over the game. Naturally Sir William grieved over this consideration. Here was a beautiful girl and an heiress, belonging to one of the oldest families in the country; her father had exhibited no[Pg 89] marked ambition in the direction of her marriage; he was willing to leave her to choose, having confidence in her judgment, and convinced that her choice would be dictated by regard to her own happiness. Like Sir William, he loved his old calling, and a naval alliance would have been gratifying to him. There was indeed much for the poor old Admiral to deplore, and no doubt Lucy had some delicate sense of what might be or should have been as she sat with her cheeks a little deepened in colour and her eyes pensively bent downwards. "Well, what of it? Maurice found him a soft hidin' place and good pasture on his Dad's farm, didn't he?".

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"Thank God," he whispered, and stood trembling. Then, as though to himself, he said softly: "It is as though her soft hand touched these eyes that will never see again." Billy drew himself up and lied like a gentleman. "I guess that's all there is about it," he said with dignity. "Ann's my girl, an' she said I could cut my 'nitials under hers if I wanted to take the chance." Old Harry O'Dule's dream was about to be realised, Stanhope had assured him that he would see to it that he should play his whistle beneath Ireland's skies before another autumn dawned. "Walk in, Captain Weaver. Pray, take that chair," said Captain Acton. "I can ask you no questions until I make you acquainted with what has happened.".