CHAPTER XVIII.
FLIGHT
I drank Bridget's strong, sweet tea without protest, and ate the thin
bread and butter, feeling it taste like sawdust in my mouth.
Meanwhile, the good old soul sat and looked at me with a beaming
expression.
"I little thought," she said, "when I rose up this morning, honey-jewel,
of who'd be here before the day was over. Sure, you're pale, love! Maybe
'twas tiring you I was, trapesin' through the house. Maureen 'ud have
something to say to me. She was always terrible jealous of her babies."
I assured her I was not tired. I tried to talk to her about Maureen and
the Abbey and my grandparents, and all the time I felt that she watched
me with an anxious and fond gaze.
"I wouldn't be telling her Ladyship, if I was you, Miss Bawn," she said
suddenly, "about meeting Captain Anthony Cardew here. 'Twould vex her,
so it would. I was surprised to find you talking together. 'Twas the
unluckiest thing in the world that you and him should meet."
"I had met Captain Cardew before, Bridget," I said coldly. "He had
rendered me a service. I'm sure all that old trouble ought to be
forgotten, and I think my grandmother is too good a Christian, and too
reasonable to bear Captain Cardew enmity for something which was no
fault of his.
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