Isn't he young and bonny, like yourself?
And Captain Cardew has a white head.
He's old by you, Miss Bawn." I remembered the old, childish days when she had been tenderer to me than Maureen, and she looked at me so wistfully that I could not be angry with her.

Indeed, I could have almost wept, like the child of long ago, on her comfortable breast.

And I was hardly vexed that she called Anthony Cardew old.

What did it matter, since I loved him, and he would always, always be the finest gentleman in the world to me?
I kissed her and left her, promising to come again and to bring Miss Champion with me, and I drove back in the cab to St.Stephen's Green.

At one moment my heart was heavy because Captain Cardew was angry with me; and at another it was irrationally light, because he loved me and breathed the same air with me.