The moment of victory, we believe, is that which may be relied upon as
the test of true greatness. Dora M'Mahon felt the pride of that moment
in its fullest extent, but she felt it only to influence her better and
nobler principles. After casting her eyes around to gather in, as it
were, that honest approbation which is so natural, and exchanging some
rapid glances with the youth we have alluded to, she went over to her
defeated competitor, and taking her hand said, "Don't cry, Betty, you
have no right to be ashamed; sure, as you say, it's the first time you
wor ever beaten; we couldn't all win; an' indeed if I feel proud
now, everyone knows an' says I have a right to be so; for where was
there--ay, or where is there--such a spinner as you are?
"Shake hands now an' there's a kiss for you. If I won this kemp, it was
won more by chance than by anything else."
These generous expressions were not lost on Betty; on the contrary, they
soothed her so much that she gave her hand cordially to her young and
interesting conqueress, after which they all repaired to a supper of new
milk and flummery, than which there is nothing more delicious within the
wide range of luxury. This agreeable meal being over, they repaired to
the large barn where Mickey M'Grory the fiddler, was installed in his
own peculiar orchestra, consisting of an arm-chair of old Irish oak,
brought out from Gerald Cavanagh's parlor.
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