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 She had by now released Athlyne and stood back from him pointing at him as she spoke:

"An comin' here through yer ladyship's goodness who do I find but me beautiful bhoy. Luk at him! Luk at him! Luk at him!" Her voice rose in crescendo at each repetition, "The finest, dearest, sweetest, bonniest child that ever a woman tuk to her breast. An now luk at him well. The finest, up-standinest, handsomest, dearest, lovinest man that the whole wurrld houlds. That doesn't forget his ould fosther mother an him an Earrll, wid castles iv his own, an medals on to him an Victory Crasses. An it's a gineral he ought to be. Luk at him, God bless him!" She turned to one after another of the party in turn as though inviting their admiration. Joy came and, putting her arms round the old woman's neck, hugged and kissed her. When she got free, Mrs. O'Brien said to Athlyne:

"An phwat are ye doin' here me darlin' acushla me lord—av I may make so bould as t' ask ye? How did ye come here; and phwat brung ye that yer ould nurse might have her eyes made glad wid sight iv ye?"

"I am here, my dear, because I am married to Joy Ogilvie, and we are going to be married again!"

Then the storm of comment broke, all the women speaking at once and in high voices suitable to a momentous occasion:

"What, what?" said Mrs. Ogilvie. "Married to my daughter! Colonel Ogilvie, how is it that I was not informed of this coming event?"

"Faith, my dear I don't know" he answered "I never knew it—and—and I believe they didn't know it themselves … till the moment before it was done." He added the last part of the sentence in deference to the Sheriff's direction as to 'intention.' Fortunately the Sheriff had not heard his remark.

"Do explain yourself, Lucius. I am all anxiety."