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.