he thrust out his hand
to detain her.

"Clo!" he said. "I say, Clo!"

But she swept his hand aside.

"No!--no!" she exclaimed. "I don't want you!--I don't want you! I never
want to speak to you again. You are hateful--detestable----"

With a swift movement, she pushed past his outstretched arm and flew up
the stairs.

In her bedroom Hannah was hovering about between the washstand and
dressing-table, a lighted candle in one hand, a carafe of water in the
other. At the sight of her mistress she laid both her burdens down with
a cry of delight.

"My darlin'!" she exclaimed. "An' is it thrue? Tim heard the word of it
an' he carryin' the cheese out of the dinin'-room; but sure I wouldn't
belave him----"

But Clodagh checked her.

"Don't be a fool, Hannah!" she cried, almost fiercely; and turning her
face from the old servant's scrutinising eyes, she walked across the
room towards the bed.

For a moment Hannah stood like an ungainly statue; then she nodded to
herself--a nod of profound and silent wisdom--and tip-toeing out of the
room, closed the door behind her.

Instantly she was alone, Clodagh began to undress. With hysterical
impetuosity she tore off each garment and threw it untidily upon the
floor; then slipping into bed, she buried her hot face in the pillows
and burst into a violent, unreasoning torrent of tears.

For ten minutes she cried unceasingly; then the storm of her misery was
checked. The door handle was very softly turned, and little Nance stole
into the room.

She entered eagerly, then paused, frightened by the scene before her;
but her hesitation was very brief. With a sudden movement of resolution
she sped across the space that divided her from the bed, and laid a
cold, tremulous hand on Clodagh's shoulder.

"Clo," she said, "is it true? Are you going to marry him? Are you going
away from here?" Her voice sounded thin and far away.

Clodagh raised herself on one elbow, and looked at her sister. Her face
was flushed, her eyes were preternaturally bright.

"Why do you want to know?" she demanded angrily. "Why is everybody
bothering me like this? Can't I do what I like? Can't I marry if I
like?"

Her voice rose excitedly. Then suddenly she caught sight of Nance's
quivering, wistful little face; and her anger melted. With a warm,
quick movement, she held out her arms.

"Nance!" she cried wildly--"little Nance!--the only person in the world
that I really love!"

CHAPTER VIII