CHAPTER VI. THE HOME OF NORA'S LOVER.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 307, 13 October 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER VI. THE HOME OF NORA'S LOVER.

About an hour later tho young Lady Nora set out from Kildare Castle, attended by her housekeeper and favourite servitor, on her expedition to Glen O'JSfeil. The Lady ot Kildare had attired herself in a liding habit of bottle-gieen cloth, which fitted pun lily to her slight figure, irier little head, from winch her bion/e hair floated in a 1 ippling cloud, was crowned with a gay little hat, from which drifted a long scarlet plume. Her hands were encased in long buft gauntlets, and she carried a pretty jewelled riding- whip. She was splendidly mounted upon her favoui ite thoroughbred, athin-necked, fieryeyed animal, who rejoiced in the name of Tin co man. The saucy little face of che youthful Lady Nora %\ as sunny under all its shadows. With her bright, hopeful nature, she could not yet sink into an utter and unvarying despair. She hoped, in spite of her better judgment, and in spite of frequent attacks of a terrible depression, and was determined to keep up her courage until the worst was made known to her beyond the shadow of a doubt. The castle housekeeper, Mrs Bridget Kelly, had been forced into the novel position of duenna, and the still more no\ el position ot hoisewoman. Tho latter did not please her, but she had not the courage to refut-e the gay demand of her young mistress. She was a fat, baby-faced old lady, the widow ot a former steward ot Kildare, and ' of as good a family,' ?he was wont to say, 'as any gentleman in Ulster.' Her great pride, however, was in the grandeur of the Kildares, and more especially in the Lady Nora, whoso beauty, gayety, wit and sweetness afforded her inexhaustiblo themes in her garrulous moods. She was mounted on a sober old pony, of some Scottish breed, and wo) c a long, black habit, a relic of olden times. On her head was perched a tall riding-hat, which had belonged to Lady Nora, and from under tho brim of this her round fair baby face looked out in a comical expiesaion of genuine anxiety and approhension. Beside Mis Kelly, on a piebald horse, rode Shane, tho ludy Nora's favourite servitor, a dignified, elderly man, with the face and form of a skeleton, and with the manner of one who felt himselt the guardian and protector of the great Lady of Kildare, Tho little party had gono but a brief distance down the sea-side avenue, when a loud, deep baying was heard behind them, and three of Lady Nora's hounds, which had slipped the leash, came bounding after their young mistress. •Let thorn come .cried Lady Nora, as Shane would have called for their keeper. ' We shall want them,' she added gaily, 'if we beard the O'Neil in his den ! Now for a gallop !' She swept on down the avenue, with floating hair and habit, and followed by her dogs, a gloiious picture of the ' Wild Huntress,' as we might imagine her, after hearing the strange, old Gorman legends. Shane, as in duty bound, pressed after her, and good Mrs Kelly, clinging to her pony's eyes, galloped in mad pursuit. She scarcely dared breathe for the next mile or more, and the Lady Nora slackened speed at the drawbridge and went soberly over. ' Oh, Shano ! Shane !' gasped the housekeeper, lifting one trembling hand and putting it to her side, while Bhe looked up imploringly into his grim, martinet face. 'It's dead !jl am tiren lelycan never

stand the like of this. My flesh is quivering like a jelly. Why didn't the Lady Nora keep to her dogs when she rides like this ? Sure it's a mad freak, isn't it now, to be causing two old bodies like us to ride like the whirlwind?' 5 Arrah, now,' observed Shane, 'the Lady Nora has all the Kildare spirit. I like it myself. And she's only taking us for the manners like. It ain't polite to call on a young nobleman without servants to show your quality. Let the Lady Nora alone for knowing what's right. Would you wish the Lady of Kildare to ride out like a beggar, her station unbeknownst?' Mrs Kelly was silenced, although 3he managed to disclaim any such desire. At this juncture the Lady Nora looked back over her shoulder, and seeing her house - keeper's perturbed countenance, considerately slackened her pace. They followed the coast road, with the sea to the left of them, as they went southwaid, and the hills and mountains to their ught. A brisk ride of a few miles along bhe breezy coast hi ought them to an opening in the mountains, which opening was the wide mouth of one of those valleys, or glens as they are called, for which Antrim is famous. This was the Glen O'Neil. i It was a wide, deep valley, shut in by high f mountains on its north-west and south east sides, arid open to the sea at one end, melting at its other extiemity into the open country. The Glon O'Neil comprised a vac>b estate of fertile acres anrl woods, with a goodly section of boe on its south-eastern portion. It was one of tho brightest, sunniest places in all Ireland, isolated amid its mountain rampaits, aud needed only improvemenb to beco>r;e a very Eden. It had belonged to the O'Neils for centuries, during which the broad acres had become encumbered with mortgages, and things had been allowed to go at haphazard, for the O'Neils were a wild reckless race, generous to prodigality, hospitable to a fault, yet noble, true, and brave as the bravest. The present Lord O'Neil was not yet five-and-twenty. His father had died some three yeais befoi'e, leaving him a glittering title, a noble name, an estate heavily loaded with debts to nearly its full value, and a number ot peasant tenantry who had been giound down by scoundrelly agents to the \eiy verge of despair and starvation. The hrsfc proceeding of the young lord was to establish his home in the reined hall of hit. ancestoro, and he was the first of his- name who had lived theie for several generations. He next set to work to rebuild the , cottages of his tenants, to repair their wrongs and adjust their rights and displace their despair and poverty with a smiling peace and plenty. He lowered their rents and sob to work bravely to cultivate his mismanaged patrimony, with the hope of paying oil the debt upon it, and restoring it to its piiotine glory Tho young lord, or The O'Neil, as he was called, and as the representatives of his family had been called from time immemorial, had all the best qualities ot hi-5 race. He was noble, brave, and daring even to rash- [ ness. He was generous, as the Irish are apt : to be, a graduate of the Dublin University, hospitable, kind-heaited, true as steel, and withal so gay and bright and dashing as to have won the sobriquet of ' Wild Larry,' by which, as by his more stately title of The O'Nei!, he was known throughout the whole country side. And this young fellow was the undeclared lover of the Lady Nora Kildare, and the winner of her heart. The youthful Lady of Kildare halted a moment at the entrance to the Glen, a natural delicacy interposing to prevent her advance. ' But I must go on,' she said to herself. ' I used often to come to Glen O'Neil with papa, and Mrs Kelly and old Shane are surely escort enough. lam so anxious and troubled, and 1 must see Lariy.' She moved on, turning inbo the glen. A bioad carriage road led from the highway through the very centre of the lonely valley, and this load was boiderod with magnificent old elm trees, whose blanches, like those of the great Kildare drive, met over head in a bowery arch. " This is the loveliest glen in green Ireland — in all the wide world •' said Nora, as they cantered over the road, the footfalls of the horses giving back a muffled sound. "Aye, it is,' said Mrs Kelly, conceiving herself addressed, and looking round with an air of interest, while she clung to her horse's mane with both her ungloved hands. ' And a fine kettle of broth have the wild O'Neils made of it, with their harum-scarum ways, and their living at court, and the cheating agents they had to the fore, and the great big leak at the bung-hole, saving your presence, luy lady.' ' But it has been so greatly improved since the young lord entered into possession,' mused Nora. 'True for you, my lady,' acknowledged Mrs Kelly ; ' but it's many generations it will take to lift the big debt they tell me is pressing on these fields, unless,' she added, with a sly twinkle in her eyes, ' it's true what they are all saying, that The O'Neil ifc going to be married to a great heiress, who'll lifb the debt as easy as to lift the little finger of her. That would be the old luck of the O'Neils." The Lady Nora blushed, then grew pale. The housekeeper's garrulous talk aroused too many painful reflections. So she cantered along moro swiftly, trying to busy her thoughts in the scenery. In the very centre ot the wild, and picturesque glen stood the old hall of the O'Neils, row in a state of wild and piefcmesque decay. It had long ago lost its stately title, and was known as 'Castle Ruin,' a title which, it must be owned, was fitting. A ride of half a mile down the elm avenue brought the visitors in sight of Castle Ruin. It had been a grand old structure in days long past. lbs towers were hoary with age. The ivy draped its massive walls, and climbed up to the old, leaky, moss-grown loof, as if trying to hide the ravages of time, and cover from idly curious eyes the poverty of a once wealthy lord. One wing was in utter ruins, and the bat and the rook flew in and out ot itd sa.shless windows, and the owl dwelt in the desolate chambers, with no one bo dispute his sway except cieatures of his kind. Ai*ound the old hall were the ancient terraces, with broken railings. On these terraces a few peacocks strutted to and fro with harsh cries. The lawn beyond was smoothly shaven and well-kept, and a small park at one side was in fine order. In all other respects a great desolation reigned on every side. This was the place Nora had meant to restore to its former glory and beauty. The cottages down the glen contained tho tenants she meant to benefit. And she had planned to rebuild the old hall in a style that would render ifc the equal in architectural grandeur and beauty with Kildare Castle. Her eyes filled with tears at the prospective downfall of all these fine plans. Dashing these evidences of her grief away she galloped up to the hall, her hounds baying at her horse's heels. She rode along bhe terrace, and drew rein at the wide, oldfashioned entrance.

No servant was anywhere visible, but other dogs came bounding from the stables, and the peacocks screamed and a general confusion reigned. ' Humph !' said Lady Nora, saucily, ' I think a mistress is wanted here ! No servants to be seen ! Let me see if I can't bring one.' I There was a little hunting horn at her | saddle-bow with which she was wont to call her dogs. Sho raised the horn to her lips and sounded a long shrill musical blast that went ringing and echoing through the old halla of Castle Ruin. ' That will wake some ot these dead people, X fancy,' she said laughing. ' And here comes someone now.' As she spoke an elderly man emerged J from the open front doors of the hall, and came hurrying down the steps, the picture of consideration and delight. He was the majordomo of Lord O'Neil's bachelor establishment, his butler, the director of his household — his ' right-hand man,' in shore. He was dressed in an old military coat, and wore a tall, three-cornered military hat of great age and experience on his grizzled locks. It was his relief that he gave a 4 tone ' to the establishment; but, despite i his harmless self-conceit, he fairly idolised his young master. His name was fShamus O'Lafterty. ' Good morning, Mr O'Lafferty,' said the Lady Nora, bowing, and raising her little gfauntleted hand in a military salute. 'Is The Neil at home V O'Laflerty returned the salute gravely, and his grim, soldierly features relaxed at sight of his bright and lovely younsr visitor. It was the greatest de&iie of his soul to witness the union of Lord O'Neil with the Lady Nora Kildare, and he believed that this visit promised well for his hopes.