“What a shame,” exclaimed Billie. Everything she heard of this man painted him in more detestable colors.
As Beatrice led the way down the village street, ragged women and children, barefooted and unkempt, bobbed and courtesied to her. The alley, for it was hardly broader than one, widened at length into a broad sweep of green, on one side of which stood a very old church and, adjoining that, a small stone cottage in a garden. A priest was standing at the garden gate intently watching three men at work on the green with a measuring line and surveyor’s instruments.
“Good-day to you, my lady,” cried the old priest, whose jovial round face was wreathed in smiles. “And have you or your uncle heard some of the good news that’s floating about the valley this day?”
“Why, no, Father O’Toole, what is it?” asked Beatrice surprised.
“Thanks be to God and all his holy saints, our prayers have been answered, and His Grace is turning the green into a new model village for his tenants. There’s to be a schoolhouse on it, your ladyship. It’s myself that has seen the plans with my own eyes, and, what is more, the church is to be rebuilt and no expense to be spared, and the rectory greatly enlarged.”
“Why, Father O’Toole, I can’t believe you!” cried Beatrice. “It seems too good to be true.”
“’Tis true, though, my lady, and more to come. The O’Connors this very morning returned to their old home and word is out that Feargus may come back and no fear of arrest at all, at all.”
Here was news, indeed, for the Motor Maids!
“But, Father O’Toole,” cried Beatrice, “what has happened to His Grace?”
She had never called him uncle in all her life.
“It’s maybe a penance to bring back the little Lord Arthur,” said the good priest; “and I’m thinkin’, too,” he added in a lower voice, “the lad might be better off where he is, poor child. He wouldn’t have lasted another year under that blackguard of a doctor.”
The walk was cut short by the astounding news of the Duke of Kilkenty’s penance. Beatrice could scarcely wait to tell it to her uncle, and the girls presently left the two together in the garden while they retired to their rooms to rest before dinner.
This formal meal was served at eight o’clock and Miss Campbell had earnestly adjured them to wear their very best, having overheard Lord Glenarm say that some of the county people were driving over for dinner.