Presently, there came a light tap at the door.  Lucy arose.  It was Chester.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but the people below are somewhat confused over the trunks.  I came to inquire.”

“Come in,” said Lucy.  “Let the ‘confusion’ continue for a little while.  Come in to where there is peace.  Father is feeling better, I am sure.”

The invalid turned towards the speakers, then with a movement of his head told them to come near.  Lucy took her former position, while Chester drew up a chair.  Yes; he did seem better, there being some color in his face to add life to his faint smile.

“Chester,” he whispered with effort, as he reached out and took the young man’s hand, “Chester—­my boy—­I—­am—­so—­glad—­you—­came—­with—­us.”

CHAPTER VIII.

While the father was resting quietly at Kildare Villa, as Uncle Gilbert’s home was called, Chester and Lucy spent a few days in looking about.

“Are there any sights worth seeing around here?” asked Chester of Lucy.

“Are there?” she replied in surprise.  “Did you ever hear of the Blarney Stone?”

Yes; he had.

“Well, that’s not far away; and those were the Shandon bells you heard last evening,

      ’The bells of Shandon,
      That sound so grand on
    The pleasant waters of the river Lee,’”

she quoted.

The fact of the matter was that Chester was quite content to remain quietly with Lucy and her father and the other good people of the place.  Traveling around the country would, without doubt, separate them, and that disaster would come soon enough, he thought; but when Lucy announced that she was ready for a “personally conducted tour to all points of interest,” he readily agreed to be “conducted.”  She was well enough to do so, she said; and in fact it did look as if health were coming to her again.

The morning of the second day at Kildare Villa Chester and Lucy set out to see the town, riding in Aunt Sarah’s car behind the pony.  There had been a sprinkle of rain during the night, so the roads were pleasant.  Lucy pointed out the places of interest, consulting occasionally a guide book.

“While viewing the scenery, it is highly educational to get the proper information,” said Lucy as she opened her book.  “It states here that Cork is a city of 76,000 people.  According to one authority it had a beginning in the seventh century.  Think of that now, and compare its growth with that of Kansas City, for instance.”

“I have always associated this city with the small article used as stoppers for bottles,” said Chester.

“You thought perhaps the British needed a cork to stop up their harbor,” said Lucy, gravely; “but you are entirely mistaken.  The book says the name is a corruption of Corcach, meaning a marsh.  The town has, however, long since overflowed the water, and now occupies not only a large island in the river, but reaches up the high banks on each side.”