The folk of Furry Farm

Heffernan of the Furry Farm, being lame now as well as old, thought it would be the best of his play not to go too far to look for the wife he was so anxious to bring home, now that he had Julia out of the way. And this is how he took the notion of seeing whether he could get a daughter of old Flanagan’s, a near neighbour of his. And as he said to himself, he knew all about those people, and what way they were situated, as to their little place and all to that.

“A man needn’t expect any fortune with one of his girls,” he thought; “but what of the few pounds? The land lies very handy to me own farm,” ... and so it did. Flanagan’s land “merined” the Furry Farm; and it was a wonder how two places so close together could be so different from one another! They both lay upon the same range of the Furry Hills. But whereas Heffernan’s was low down, and the house facing north, so that it seldom got a blink of sunshine, the Flanagans had theirs half-way up a slope the opposite side, where it had shelter, as well as all the sun and south wind there was to be had. In fact, it was one of the sweetest little places about the whole of Ardenoo. Greenan-more it was called, an old name that is said to mean “the big sunny parlour,” or something like that. It’s likely it got that name put upon it when there were people living in the old rath up above at the top of the hill behind the house. But of course there is nothing of a dwelling there now; nothing, only a hollow, with a Lone Thorn growing in the middle of it, and nettles and stones. Lonesome places, raths are! where the Good People live, and their music can be heard, and they themselves be seen, by them that are able to do so.

It would delight you, to look at Greenan-more! with the lake lying at the foot of the hill on which the house stood. The limestone pushes up there, close to the surface, and helps to keep the earth warm, so that the grass grows earlier there than it does anywhere else about Ardenoo. It’s a sweet grass, too. One bite of it is worth more to a beast than a full feed off the low, sour bottoms of the Furry Farm.

The land was different on the two places; the houses were different; and the people were different, too. Heffernan’s was well enough, in the way of it being comfortable and plentiful; but it was lonesome and no great appearance of tastiness about it. But Flanagan’s had a snug, bright look. The two daughters were always contriving some little thing to give it a look. It was all neat and clean; with a rose growing over the door, and the walls whitewashed to that degree, that when the sun shone on them, they would dazzle you, nigh-hand.

“Like a smile upon a rosy face!” Jim Cassidy used to think to himself, when he would be taking a streel up the hill, of a Sunday or a holiday evening. And when a boy takes to that kind of talk, it’s easy to guess what he has in his mind.

With Jim, I may as well tell you, it was little Nelly Flanagan that he was thinking about; though when he’d be there, it was all to chat to the old father he had come, by the way of!

And Nelly that took no more heed of Jim than of any other boy about Ardenoo! What was she, only a child! no more; as gay and as frolicsome as a pet lamb. But still in all, Nelly was very nice, and biddable. She would do anything in this world wide that the elder sister, Christina, would say. And why wouldn’t she?

Here’s who were living at Greenan-more at that time: old Flanagan himself; a real old Sport. Not a fair or a funeral, a wake or a wedding in all Ardenoo, but he’d make it his business to be there; and with him there lived his two girls, Christina and Nelly.

The mother had died soon after Nelly being born; had no great comfort with Flanagan, and no wish to go on living. So when she felt herself to be on the last, all she said was: “I’ll give the baby to you, Chrissie!” There’s the pet name she had for her.

And Christina, that was only a little slip of a thing, about nine or ten years old, took on at once to mind the infant, and was like a little mother to her. Those that would be in and out of the house said it was most amazing, the way she cared the little sister. She was very wise and sensible, and as good as she could be, every way.

In fact, as time went on, the two sisters were just made upon each other, as the saying is. They were always together; Christina made a baby of Nelly and Nelly made a mother of Christina. And what caused this the more with them was, the father being the sort he was; taking very little heed of anything, only his own amusement. That is all right enough, in its way. But it doesn’t help you to get on in this world; and I don’t know is it apt to do much for you in the next. What Flanagan and men like him don’t spend in their playing about, they waste in idleness. Christina did as much as ever she could. But on a farm, there’s always many things that a woman can’t do.

And this is how she began first to be thinking a good deal about Jim Cassidy. For he was very smart. He would see with half an eye what was wrong, and set it right while another would be wondering what ought to be done. He was ready and willing to do anything in life for them at Flanagan’s, so that Christina, that was what we call the sense-carrier of the family, got to depend on Jim for every hand’s turn that wanted doing about Greenan-more; such as the drawing home of the turf from the bog; or getting the hay or oats saved, or buying in a couple of young pigs to be fattened. Of course, the selling of the stock had to be left to Flanagan himself; and that was the pity; and was little good to either him or his girls. He would no sooner have the price of the cattle or sheep or whatever it might be, paid into his hand, than he’d go off on a spree, and then you couldn’t tell what he’d be up to; as likely as not, never come home, till he’d have it spent.

What the girls had for themselves was anything they could make of the butter and eggs, the geese and turkeys and so on. They were satisfied enough, they didn’t want so much. So was the old father, contented in his own way.

And here again, there was a wide difference between them and the Heffernans. Poor Mickey, for all his industering, never took much satisfaction out of what he worked so hard for; and as for Julia, she was so crabbed always, that she used never to enjoy her own life, nor let any one else enjoy theirs either; at least, as long as she remained in Ardenoo; of course, she might have changed, going to America.

Yes, the Flanagans were peaceful and easy-going; all but Christina, that favoured her dead mother, and as she got a bit older, used to feel anxious betimes about many things. Of course this made her all the more ready to look to Jim Cassidy for help. Like as if he was a brother, she often said to herself. But there’s many a brother that wouldn’t be as good-natured to a couple of sisters as Jim was in regard to the Flanagans.

Christina having so much dependence out of Jim, then, small blame to her, when, one evening as she was driving in the cows, and he came up, she nearly fell out of her standing, when he said:

“I’m going off next week!”

“Going off! A—where, Jim?” she said, though she knew well, all the time. There was only the one place for a boy like Jim to make for, those times.

“To America! Where else?” said Jim. “The uncle that’s there beyant has wrote me word, that he has me passage paid, and, moreover, has a good job waiting on me. So why wouldn’t I go, and not to be stopping on here; pulling the divil by the tail for the rest of me days!”

He stopped at that; and if he’d been looking at Christina, instead of staring out over the lake, the way he was, he would have seen that she had turned as white as a patch of bog-cotton. But he never looked at her, only went on to say: “There’s only the one thing that I’m sorry for leaving behind me! Sure, what need I care for going! a boy like me, without one belonging to me left now in Ardenoo; or indeed the whole of Ireland! Only the one thing for me to regret! that’s Greenan-more....”

And if he had chanced now to look at Christina, he would scarcely have known was it her or Nelly that was standing beside him; for Christina’s eyes were dancing, and her cheeks flushed and warm....

But Jim was still gaping out across the lake, as if he had never seen till then the way it shimmered and flashed under the setting sun. He saw nothing of the change in Christina, only went on: “Greenan-more! ay, Greenan-more! that’s where me thoughts will be; that’s what I’m fretting to leave behind; where I’d always love to be...! But you’ll write to me, Christina....”

At the word, Christina felt happiness rising, rising like a warm wave about her....

“... and you’ll tell me about every one, and everything that’s going on in the place ...” Jim stopped a bit there ... and then, in a whisper, “and about Nelly...?”

Then Christina felt the wave die down, and she grew cold. Everything suddenly turned black and lonesome, all in a minute. She felt giddy, as if the world had begun to sink away from under her feet. But she said nothing. Indeed, why should she? Wouldn’t it be the queer world, if people did what they say they do, and just told out whatever they think? They don’t; nor they couldn’t; it would never answer....

All Christina could say, was: “Next week? why then, that’s short notice!”

And Jim helped her to drive the cows into their shed, and got her the stool, and she sat down and began to milk. Just the way he was always helping her! and he stood beside her, for a bit, advising her about this thing and that thing; and she felt as if it was all a dream.

But one thing was real enough to her. She knew Jim was only delaying there, in the hopes of seeing Nelly coming out from the house, to help to carry in the milk. And poor Christina felt ashamed of the satisfaction it was to her, that as likely as not Nelly would forget all about the cows, and the dairy, and the evening’s work.

She had that satisfaction; not a sight of Nelly was to be seen. And Jim, after waiting a bit, thinking that maybe Christina would be bidding him to come into the house, or stay to his supper there, just went off home to wherever he was stopping.

He had short notice, sure enough, for so long a journey. But what matter for that? If you have little, you travel light. Christina, that was always busy at some industering, had a grand lot of stockings of her own spinning and knitting, ready to put into his bundle. Nelly had nothing, and she cried down tears to turn a mill, over that. But Christina had the fashion still, when she would go to the Shop, that she’d bring home a lucky-bag to Nelly, as if she was a child still. She did that, the very day before Jim started. And what was in the lucky-bag, but a grand breast-pin, that had a stone in it, shining like a diamond, only of course it couldn’t be that! Nelly offered the pin to Jim for a keepsake, and he was as proud as if it really was a diamond she had for him.

Jim went off, and of all the friends he left behind him you’d think Christina cared the least. But there’s many a one like that. They’ll be able for the day’s work, and will keep bright and busy; ay, and have a smile and a pleasant word for every one. But underneath all that, there’s something aching, aching...! unknown to all the world, except themselves.

It’s like the “swallyin’-holes” you come on now and then in the boggy bits of Ardenoo. You may be walking along, happy and contented, in the sunshine, making your way through heather and brambles and fern; sweet smells coming up to you from the bog-myrtle and meadow-sweet; and suddenly with a gasp you stop short! There at your feet, you’ll see a gaping hole, half hidden by moss and rushes ... and when you look down, far, far below the warm, smiling surface of the bog, you see water, black and deep and silent.

“It’s not me, at all; it’s Nelly he wants!” Christina kept saying to herself, always, always, while she’d be going about her work, up and down, early and late, as busy as ever she could be. Busier than ever, indeed! It seemed now as if she never could rest, and couldn’t be easy, unless she was doing something, for the old father, or little Nelly.

It’s dreadful, when you have to look on, at some one else getting the very thing that you would give your heart’s blood for! Ah, dreadful! even if it’s some one you love that’s robbing you. And it makes it no better, if the one that’s getting what you want is maybe not caring two straws about it; not even knowing it’s there to be had. Nelly didn’t; she had no more notion of Jim and how he felt than the man in the moon. Christina could not have held out at all if she had known.

I won’t say that Nelly didn’t feel a bit lonesome for Jim. She missed him coming about the place, as he had the fashion of doing. But she never thought much of anything, and she was so beautiful and so nice every way, that she could not but be happy. Why, when she’d be going to the chapel of a Sunday, the boys would be striving with one another to get where they could have the full of their eyes of little Nelly Flanagan. And a girl can’t but know something of what goes on in that way; and feel it a satisfaction, too. There wasn’t one in Ardenoo could hold a candle to Nelly in point of looks. Christina was well enough, too, a very fine appearance of a girl she was, no doubt. But she was older and more settled in her ways, than Nelly, hadn’t the same happy, laughing looks and little tricks and fun. How could Christina be like that and she with the weight of the work on her shoulders always, not to speak of the care of Nelly, from the time she was born! It had made her very quiet and grave in herself; as if she had left youth behind her, long ago, though in years what was she but a girl still?

Jim wasn’t very long gone off, when what happened, only old Flanagan took and died on the two poor girls. And you would wonder to see how they lamented him; and he so little use to them, or indeed to himself either, or any one else, except maybe the play-boys that he would be consorting with, whenever he had the money to stand treat. And small good that was going to be, to them or him!

Still, when any one is gone and laid in the grave, there’s no one going to say anything but what is good of them; and so by old Flanagan. And of course his own girls were the last to hear of any little faults or follies he had to do with. That made it all the harder on them, when things began to be looked into, and it was found out that there was a lot of money owing on the farm. The girls had always trusted their father, the way women mostly do. Christina had felt a bit anxious at times, but still, she had managed to keep middling straight at the Shop by bringing in her eggs and butter and so on, to exchange them against whatever tea and sugar, flour and meal and soap and whatever else she wanted in the housekeeping line. That was the way the weight of the business was done at Melia’s. Christina knew pretty well how their account stood there. But she never had any intelligence of anything further. The father had the notion that many men have, that women understood nothing about money, and the less they had to say to it the better. So it was a terrible surprise to Christina when she found out, after the father died, that there was rent owing on the farm. The agent was very easy-going, and had let it run on out of good-nature to old Flanagan. But now he was beginning to think that the two girls would not be a very good mark for all that money. And although he talked to them as kind as could be, he was beginning to hint to others that maybe girls like the Flanagans would be as well off without the responsibility of so much land, when there wasn’t a man to work it. He really may have thought they would be better off in a smaller place. But besides that, he knew well that old Heffernan would be glad enough to get Greenan-more, because it lay so convenient to his own farm; and that maybe if he could arrange to let him have it, he’d be getting a hand-over for himself. And of course he wanted to do the best for himself, like the rest of us.

Christina didn’t understand all these things, but she began to feel very downhearted, as if there was trouble in store for them, when the next rent-day was coming round, and she knew how little there was to meet what was due. That was bad; but her own care, that no one knew of but herself, was far worse. She could neither eat nor sleep, thinking, thinking always.

Well, she was sitting at the door one evening, knitting, when who did she see coming up the hill towards her but Mickey Heffernan. She spoke to him very civilly, as she always would, but wondered greatly what was bringing him there. For it was seldom he took the light from their door, or indeed from any other door either. He lived to himself, and so he, too, had little notion of what was going on about the place. It would have been a big surprise to him, too, if any one had told him that there was any idea of his getting Greenan-more.

But that nothing to the business he had really come about; a most amazing thing it was! Christina could hardly believe her ears, when at last Mickey brought it out.

It appeared that he had been taking notice of Nelly; had had a good look at her, the day the father was in his burying. And now, nothing would do him, only to see to get her to marry him.

And he said to Christina: “If I have your good word with her, the thing is as good as done; she’ll agree to do what you say. And if she does, you’ll never regret it! For I’ll regulate things for you, as well as for her. And I needn’t say, my wife’ll never want ...” and all to that.

Christina listened to him with a whirling mind. All the thoughts that came up before her then! She could not separate them from one another. There was a bit of a song that kept repeating itself, about an old man trying to get a young wife; and why the words went singing themselves through her head——

she did not know! She wasn’t even thinking of all they meant; only, there they were. But she did say to herself that supposing such a thing did come about, it might not be altogether too bad. Isn’t it often said, “Better be an old man’s darling than a young man’s slave”? And Heffernan was well known to be a good sort: kind and sober and honest, queer and odd though he was in his ways. Ay, and he was what is known as a “warm” man; one that had full and plenty, to bring a wife home to. And Christina felt the comfort it would be to have him for a friend to herself; and she knew the need there was for some one to stand between her and the world. She was like most women: very timorous about money that was owing, and above all, about rent being behind.

Then she thought, Nelly had never passed any remarks about Jim; no more than any ordinary friend might. She was full as careless and gay as when he went away. When Jim would write ... and it was seldom he did, the letter was always to Christina. He would ask for Nelly, right enough; but sure the weighty end of American letters is always asking for this body and that body. Jim Cassidy’s were the same. Every one of the neighbours would be mentioned by name. It would have only seemed more particular if there had been nothing at all about Nelly.

So Christina had said to herself, that there was no occasion to be making any talk with Nelly about Jim at all. Mightn’t he change his mind? or never come back...? And now, when Heffernan had his say about Nelly, Christina was sure it was just all for the best she had never said a word to Nelly about what Jim had said to her. It would only have been disturbing her mind.

Christina was all in a flutter, sitting there, with the knitting idle in her lap for once, and Heffernan just waiting, and not a word more out of his head. And still ... what ought she to say? what ought to be done?

At last she said, “Nelly’s not in at this moment. Away at a bit of a dance she is, down at the cross-roads....”

She stopped there, thinking maybe Heffernan would be put off his plan, by hearing that about Nelly, and the father only so lately dead. And Christina left to do the whole business that evening by herself. Not that she minded that. She never grudged Nelly her fun. But she wondered if Heffernan would blame Nelly.

“Not inclined for going she was,” she went on, “but I made her go, and I’ll slip off by and by, to bring her home; sure, she’s young, the crature!”

“She’ll mend of that!” said Heffernan.

After another silence, he got up to leave.

“I’ll not wait any longer to-night,” he said, “but if it would be agreeable, I’ll drop round next Sunday, when there will be nothing else to be done. We can settle the thing then at once.”

“Mind, you’ll have to speak to Nelly herself first!” said Christina. By that she was trying to make herself believe that she was giving Nelly a chance of thinking of Jim.

But only God knows what is in people’s minds! Surely, half the time we don’t know ourselves. And the very things that are the most in our thoughts are the things we get ourselves the most confused over. And the more we try to see them clearly, the more confused we get.

With Christina, anyway, that’s how it was. Sleeping or waking, it was Jim, Jim, Jim! always and ever; no matter what she was doing, or who was there. What was he doing now? Was he just the same? And was he really and truly as fond of Nelly as he had seemed to be that evening?... And did Nelly care one thraneen about him?

But she did want to act fairly by them both! And that was why she had said to Heffernan that he must speak to Nelly herself first; she would have no hand in it, until Nelly had had time to think. She wouldn’t say a word to her, good, bad, nor indifferent, she thought.

“Whatever you say, I’ll agree to,” Heffernan said, the last thing as he was waddling off; “but sure she’ll do as you bid her, I’m sure!”

There’s the way marriages are generally settled in Ardenoo.

The days passed on, and Christina never said a word to Nelly still. And then, the very Sunday that she was expecting Heffernan to come again to Greenan-more, wasn’t there a letter from Jim; and most surprising news in it, this time.

It told that the uncle Jim had gone out to was after dying, very suddenly, and had left all he had to Jim. This had happened some time before, but Jim wouldn’t say anything about it, till he was sure. But now the whole thing was settled up. He had the money; and he was coming home at once.

Jim coming home! Jim coming home! Christina felt wild at the thought! If he had the money, what delay would there be only to ask Nelly, and she would have him, fast enough! The thing was as good as done. Nelly was to the good yet, as long as there was nothing settled with Heffernan. Oh, if only Jim’s uncle hadn’t died so smart! If only.... But must she tell Nelly? Why need she tell her? Let her alone! Sorra hair Nelly would care! Let her marry Heffernan! One was as good to Nelly, Christina really believed, as another! She would very soon content herself at the Furry Farm ... and then.... Oh, if only Heffernan would marry her at once, and end the thing! If once Nelly was out of the way.

But Jim, Jim, that had trusted her with his secret! Christina began to think of this now, and that Jim had told her everything, and as good as asked her to look after Nelly for him! Would it be fair to Jim? How could she play him such a dirty, mean trick, as to keep this news from Nelly, knowing all it meant, knowing that Jim intended Nelly to hear it?

She would tell Nelly. Of course she would! How could she do anything else but tell her? But it appeared as if something always came in the way that morning. She started off to find Nelly, and read the letter with its wonderful news to her; and she couldn’t find her.

Christina had been to first Mass; and now Nelly was off to second Mass, a bit late, as often happened her; and hurrying all she could, hoping to get a lift on a neighbour’s car.... So she was a piece off, down the hill, when Christina called to her; and not a foot she’d come back!

And what was Christina to do? There was the letter, burning in her pocket, and never a chance of telling about it to Nelly, the one that was most concerned; because, when she got back from the chapel, she had Heffernan with her, all dressed out in his best; and Christina thought it would not answer to have any talk of Jim then; and of course no more it would.

The same thing, while the dinner was going on; no opportunity for a word with Nelly.

“It isn’t to be, now!” Christina said to herself; she might indeed have spoken to Nelly, if she had really made up her mind to it, but the minute they were done eating, Heffernan said, “I may’s well have a look at that hay you were telling me about, now. And this little girl will show me the way!” meaning Nelly.

“Very well!” said Christina, wondering in herself how cute old Mickey was, to make a chance for himself!

So they got up from the table. Heffernan took his stick, that he never could do without, since his accident at the fair of Balloch, and there was Nelly all smiling, quite ready; and off they went together; December and May.

Before they were farther than the yard, Christina called after them: “Nelly! Nelly, come here a minute...!”

“Ah, for what?” cried Nelly.

“I ... I have something to say to ye!” said Christina; and she wished she hadn’t.

“Oh, won’t it keep?” says Nelly, that had often been called back that way, to be told how to behave, and to not be wild ... and she had no edge on for being lectured then.

She thought it was bad enough, having to go off with Mickey by herself....

“That’s all right! come along!” said Heffernan.

He was thinking, the poor old man, that it was what Nelly wanted to be hurrying off with him.

“Mind, now! I told you to listen to me!” said Christina, very serious. Yet she was relieved when Nelly just laughed and went on to the hayfield. And Christina called out, “I’ll be after you, Mr. Heffernan, as soon as ever I have the place readied up. And glad I’ll be of an advice about that hay.”

“Och, sure there’s no occasion for you to be in too great a hurry!” said Heffernan, quite talkative.

When they were started, “I could do no more!” said Christina to herself, looking after them, Nelly like a child, frisking along beside Heffernan and his limp, and she chattering away to him and amusing him. There’s the sort Nelly Flanagan was; always ready to please whoever was next to her.

Plenty there are like that; plenty of girls, pretty and pleasant and smiling. But there’s nothing more! no more than if it was a picture you had hanging by a nail from your wall. But God made them, and the men like them.

As I was saying a while ago, it’s hard to know exactly what is in your own mind, let alone in another’s. But it’s likely that what Christina was really thinking now was this: if once Heffernan spoke to Nelly, and got her to pass her word to him, the thing would be settled, for good and all. Heffernan would get the marriage over at once. An old man has no time to lose, courting. Not that Mickey was what people in general would count as old; only that was how the girls always talked about him, he being so very settled and quiet-going in every way.

Along with that, she thought how that Nelly would be safe and contented with him. He was good, and Nelly was easy-going and hadn’t any one else in her mind. Christina was only too ready to think that.

But the great thing was, that if Nelly was out of the way ... mightn’t anything happen, as soon as not! Christina did not put that into words, even in her own mind. There was one thing sure, however. She wanted Jim for herself. But that, too, she had to put away from her. The loneliness of her! She had not one, in this world wide, to speak to. If she had had itself, how could she! how could she!

As soon as Christina had all done, the dishes washed up, and the floor swept over, and a bit thrown to the hens, she went off after Nelly and Heffernan. She thought she wouldn’t be in too big a hurry. The day was hot and bright and she would take her time.

She did that. When she got to the gate of the Big Meadow, and looked across it down to the lake that lay beyond, she perceived Heffernan and Nelly, and they standing, talking, with their backs to her, gazing out over the water that rippled and flashed under the sunshine, just as it was when Jim had told her he was going away, and for her to give him news of Nelly.

Christina stopped when she caught sight of them. The thing was going on just as she would wish it should. She might as well give Heffernan his time to say all he wanted. He was slow. It would take him a good while to make Nelly understand. She laid out that she would go across to join them, of course, as she had arranged, but very nice and easy, taking her time. She began by being very particular about hasping the gate; a thing, in troth, that you can hardly be too careful about, on a farm.

It gave her some trouble, the gate being loose from the hinges, and Christina remembered it was a job that Jim had meant to do for her, to set that gate right, only he got such short notice about leaving for America. When she had it secured again, she straightened herself up, and turned round, so as to be facing the field she was going to cross. What did she see, there half-way between herself at the gate, and Nelly at the far end of the meadow, only Jim himself!

The sight left her eyes, near-hand, and small blame to her. She rubbed them hard, and looked again. There he was, right enough. He was laughing, as he had the fashion of doing, a quiet, half-shy smile, but saying nothing. It was Jim all over. The field was so full of light and heat that she felt dazzled. You could see little quivering waves rising up into the air from the sun-cocks. Christina thought everything was moving before her eyes. Except Jim. He stood there, quite quiet, laughing still.

“Nelly doesn’t see him!” was the first thought that came into Christina’s head; “Nelly doesn’t see him! and maybe he hasn’t seen her! It’s not that side he’s looking, at all! It’s towards me he’s turned.... Och, if only I can keep him that way...! till I’ll get down to him ... and keep him in chat ... if only Heffernan had his say out with Nelly, and gets her promise.... Oh, why did Jim come here, just this minute! What at all brought him now! If only he’d have stayed away another bit! Even an hour ... and not for he to be appearing, till it would be settled.... An’ Nelly that doesn’t mind one, no more than another ... what does Nelly care!”

With that word, in a clap, Christina begins to think of Jim! Jim, and the look in his eyes, straight and full of longing and misery, while he was beseeching of her to write him word of every one ... “and Nelly!”

It takes a long time to tell a thing, but you’ll make up your mind quick enough. Christina had hers determined, before she had made her way across the warm, smiling aftermath to the first line of sun-cocks.

Supposing Nelly didn’t care! Jim did. It was like a blow on a bruise for Christina to have to feel that this was true. But when she did, and saw what ought to be done, she lost no time.

“Jim!” she called out; and when he made no answer, “Jim!” again. Still he said nothing; only stood there, laughing. So then she shouted out, “Nelly! Nelly! look-at-here. See who’s in it!”

At the word, Nelly turned round, and in a second there she came, flying like a bird up the field, the sun shining on her shining hair, and her pink skirts floating this way and swelling that way, as she ran, and kept calling out, “Jim! Jim! is it yourself that’s in it, at all at all?”

She was like a bird, as I said, but a bird that was taking wing from a cage.

To tell the truth, she wasn’t caring so much about poor Mickey and his way of courting. She was listening to him, because she was too much surprised to do anything else, and besides she couldn’t really imagine he was in earnest, and was just letting him go stuttering on, and half inclined to laugh in his face, only she was too kind to do the like.... But of course she’d far liefer have a boy more her own age and gait of going to be looking out across the lake with, than Heffernan, Furry Farm and all. So off she ran from him and towards Jim.

There you have them all; Nelly running lightly from one end of the hayfield, and Christina stepping quickly from the other end of it, and they both making for Jim who was standing between them. Surely either of them would reach him quickly ... and of course, poor Christina was full sure he would go a piece of the way down to meet Nelly! But instead of that, he kept backing, and backing away from them; laughing always, but saying nothing.

“What are you at, Jim?” said Nelly, flushed and out of breath, but radiant with smiles of welcome. “Can’t you stop, and not be going on that-a-way?”

Still Jim kept moving, moving away from them; sliding across the field, and not a word out of his head, in spite of all Nelly could say. Then he got to the stone wall that ran round the Big Meadow; and then over with him, and Nelly and Christina coming after him.

When they got to the wall, they looked over it into the next field; a big, flat pasture-field it was; broad and open to the blazing sunshine. You’d think a mouse couldn’t stir there, without being seen. But sight nor light of Jim the sisters could not get there.

“Where is he, at all at all?” said Nelly, her cheeks as red as roses between the heat and the excitement she was in; “some trick he’s after playing off on us! We’ll find him above at the house, never fear! And to say he lepped the wall, and never stirred a stone off it!”

The wall was just made of loose stones, laid one upon another without mortar. Cattle or sheep could knock a gap through them, ready.

The sisters looked at one another. Nelly turned white.

“Sure, Jim’s always souple,” said Christina, so quietly that you’d never imagine she had a hair turned on her; “but now, let you make no delay, only turn back to Mr. Heffernan, not to be leaving him there with no one only himself ... sure that’s no right way to be going on! Have manners, child dear!”

And to herself, Christina was saying, “To think she never took notice of the breast-pin, and he with it in his tie!” for they were close enough to see it; anyway, that pin sparkled in the sun. “I wonder does she remember giving it to him, at all!”

“Let you come back with me, Chris!” said Nelly, coaxing her; as if she was turning shy with Mickey, all of a sudden.

“What nonsense is this to be going on with?” said Christina a bit short. But still in all, she went. She scarce ever could refuse Nelly anything that she had the giving of.

And wasn’t it a small thing to do, to walk down a piece to meet old Heffernan, compared to what Christina was after making up her mind to?

She was going to give Jim up! I mean, to give up thinking about him; for the bitterest part of the thing was, that she had nothing else to give up! Why would she come between Jim and what he wanted so much?

“... and Nelly!” he had said; “write me about everything that’s going on about the place ... and Nelly!”

Something had died in Christina at these words.

To give up Jim! I won’t say it was like parting with a bit of herself; for Christina had no such great liking for her own four bones, that that would have troubled her much. And did anything trouble her now? She felt all ice, as if she had no feeling left.

And what was she to do! What was she to do!

It seemed half her life, before they met Heffernan, coming puffing and limping up the field. He hadn’t a word more out of him about the business he had in hand, and seemed really vexed at the way Nelly had run off from him.

“Cassidy? Jim Cassidy?” he said, when they went to explain the thing to him; “why, what at all! there wasn’t a living soul in the meadow nor isn’t now, only our three selves! Is it wanting to make me out a fool, altogether, yous are? Maybe that’s not so easy done!”

He stopped at that, with his mouth open, as if he was surprised at himself that he had said so much. He looked from one to another of the two girls, as much as to say, “What excuses have yous to make to me?” for he was quite offended. And when no one said anything, he just turned off short, when they reached the gate leading out of the meadow, and went home, as crabbed as you like.

But by that time Christina was past caring a pinch of snuff what he did. She could think of nothing, only Jim. She thought she’d never get back to the house quick enough, she was so full sure he would be there waiting for them.

Leaning out over the half-door, she pictured him to herself, the way he often was, before he went to America, laughing and kind. Her face was white, and the two eyes burning, burning in it, as she went hurrying on, across the yard, and into the house.

As for Nelly, she was all smiles and gaiety. Little she cared for Heffernan, or what humour he was in, and he going off from that! She was calling out, “Jim! Jim! where at all are you? what do you mean...?” as she ran here and there looking for him, rosy and warm again in the cheeks, as if they were playing a game of hide-and-seek.

But the sorra Jim could they find! High, low, or holy, there wasn’t a sight of him to be seen; though Nelly hunted and searched and looked and called, all over the place; while Christina, white and hot-eyed, went about her usual work.

“A body would think you didn’t care, Chrissy,” said Nelly indignantly.

Care! Did she care about her chance of heaven?

Later in the evening, Nelly went straying off through the neighbours, telling her story, about Jim being in the Big Meadow, and then going off from them. Did This or That body see him? Nelly would ask, with wide, innocent eyes. She was only laughed at. Nobody saw Jim Cassidy! Let her go home and make up some better story than that, if she wanted to entertain people.

“But we did see him! the two of us saw him! and we even spoke to him! And he made us no answer, only disappeared, the same as if the ground had opened and swallowed him down!” Nelly insisted.

“Maybe so it did, but we’ll not swally your story!” was all the satisfaction Nelly got.

So she went home to Christina and “Ah, Chrissy, do you think would it be a warning, and that poor Jim just came back to tell us he’s dead, there beyant in America?” said Nelly, beginning to cry down tears like the rain.

But Christina never made her an answer. She couldn’t! What Nelly was after saying, was what she had been thinking. But such thoughts never seem so bad, till some one else puts them into words.

To think of Jim, Jim Cassidy dead! She nearly hated Nelly for saying the word that ends everything ... except Love.

She put her hand into her pocket, and pulled out Jim’s letter, and gave it to Nelly.

“That came this morning, and I never got the chance of showing it to you all day, till now,” she said. And she kept watching Nelly from under her eyelashes, to see would she mind it much.

But Nelly was a real child. She never thought of anything, except just what a body would put before her in words. She said nothing as she took the letter and read it. There was nothing in it, only about he coming home; and the money he was after getting by the uncle that died.

Then: “Starting the day week this was wrote!” she said. “Well, well! But sure he couldn’t be here yet, this len’th of time...! whether or which....”

And then she gave a look at Christina, but she was as busy as a nailer with one little thing or another about the kitchen, so that she took no notice of the way that Nelly was staring her. And maybe it was as well that Nelly got no encouragements to say, what was on the tip of her tongue, how that Christina appeared noways glad or interested at the thoughts of Jim coming home.

“And the luck that he’s after happening on! And they two that were always the greatest of friends!”

That was what Nelly said to herself. But she never kept anything long in mind, and so things went on at the Flanagans’. The sisters were in a kind of bewilderment. Christina was going about, not speaking only when she couldn’t help it, and she feeling as if she was moving through a black fog, cold and dreadful, and Nelly upset, because she wasn’t used to anything from Christina but petting. She’d wonder for a minute or so what at all should be the matter with Chrissy, and then she’d start her gay little lilt of a song again....

It appeared to Christina as if she had known all her life what was going to happen, when, a few days later, as she was coming in with the milk, what did she see, only Jim Cassidy, and he leaning over the half-door, just as she had often fancied him. Leaning across it he was, and Nelly standing just inside, and they two laughing and chattering together and seeming as if they didn’t think there was another soul in this living world, except their two selves.

Christina started back; and the can of milk dropped out of her hold.

“Oh, Chrissy! here’s Jim!” said Nelly, the words tumbling out over one another and she between laughing and crying ... “and he only just after landing....”

“What else, only just landed?” said Jim, looking from one to the other, very puzzled; “what else would I do, only come on here straight?”

“But sure, didn’t we see you...? Ora, Chriss, look at the milk...!”

“Never mind now! come and give a hand to wipe it up!” said Christina, and they all were glad of an excuse for doing something, Christina in particular. For she was all of a tremble, and didn’t want that to be seen.

So by this, one thing and another was spoken of, till at last Jim got telling them about a queer dream he had had, while he was on the way home.

“I thought to see the two of you,” he said, “in the Big Meadow, and yous coming towards me, through the sunshine ... it appeared as if it was a Sunday, with yous, and so it was with us in the ship, too ... I remember it well....”

“Sure, if you saw us, we saw you, too!” said Nelly; “Sunday ... sure enough! it was the day old Mickey Heffernan was....”

She stopped herself, and grew very red.

“The day Mickey Heffernan ... what?” said Jim.

“Ah, nothing at all!” said Nelly; “men does be shocking foolish betimes ... and quare conduction you got on with, that same day ... backing away from us, as if you thought we had the scarleteen, or something you’d take from us, that you wouldn’t let us within the bawl of an ass of you...!”

“That was quare and very quare, too!” said Jim; “but I’ll see not to let the like occur again, if I can prevent it!”

He and Nelly began to laugh again. And they two were so taken up with one another, that they never heeded Christina. She slipped away without their knowing.

They didn’t miss her for long enough. Maybe it was bad of them; Jim that had trusted her, and Nelly that she had given up all for. But there’s what happened. And it was only natural, after all. Jim had Nelly; and Nelly couldn’t but be taken up with all he had to say.... And then, Christina was one that no one ever thought wanted looking after. So it wasn’t till it had grown dusk, that they began to wonder where she was, and why wasn’t she there, to be making down the fire, and seeing everything ready, as she always did. They waited a little bit longer, and then another little bit longer ... and the time seemed short enough, to Jim, anyway; till at last they got uneasy, and went looking for Christina.

But they never saw her again.

They searched high and they searched low. They went to the neighbours, thinking to find her somewhere off among them; though, as they well knew, it was the last thing she thought of doing, idling and ceilidhing[10] away from home of an evening. The neighbours came, and helped, and there wasn’t a spot about the place but they searched, calling and whistling and shouting for her; out all night with lanterns and candles. Every one had a great wish for Christina. Why wouldn’t they! she that was so good and kind. But she was not to be found.

They kept up the search, for days and days, thinking it might be that some kind of weakness had come over the poor girl, and that they would come on her somewhere, and she in a faint.

But not a sign of her ever they found.

Some thought it was what she might have slipped into the lake, when she was turning out the cows after milking them, for it was down towards the water they were driven of an evening. And that lake, it was well known, had no bottom to it, in places; and it was supposed that the water drained away through underground channels ... and if any one chanced to get drawn into one of them ... well, there was no more to be known of that person.

And more were of the opinion that she might have fallen into one of the swallyin’-holes I mentioned. And anything that goes in there never comes out any more.

It nearly killed Nelly, the fright and awfulness of losing Christina that way. She fretted and pined, till the half of her wasn’t in it. And Jim as bad, for he was as fond of Christina as Nelly was; just in the same way, too; as if she was his sister.

For many a long day, after Jim and Nelly were married, and living on there in the old home, they would talk of Christina, and think maybe she’d be coming back to them, just walk in on the door.... For they always thought it wasn’t dead she was at all, only “away” with the Good People in the old rath, at the top of the hill behind Greenan-more.

The door was always left open, and the fire strong, and food ready, at night, and in particular on Hallow Eve, the way she could come in there, if she had a mind to.

But she never did.

And so best. It’s a poor thing, to be looking at happiness through another person’s eyes; even if you chance to be as fond of them as Christina was of Nelly, let alone of Jim.

And it’s bad enough to fret for doing wrong. But isn’t it worse again to have to feel yourself sorry, and you after doing what you knew was right! as it was with Christina. But there’s many a thing that it’s hard to explain, as well as what the Flanagans saw in the sunshine, that day crossing the Big Meadow.