Tishy put her strong, rounded chin in the air, and said, “I suppose other people have a right to use the roads as well as us!”

The Doctor was glad that his face was shadowed, as he noted the arrogant tilt of her head, and the smooth, cream-white pillar of her neck that it revealed, since the smile of paternal pride would not be denied.  He didn’t blame Ned Cloherty to be sneaking about after her; there wasn’t her like in the county.  But she very certainly was too good for the likes of Ned Cloherty.  “Now, Babsey,” he said, and Tishy knew that the old pet name denoted a satisfaction with her that might not otherwise betray itself, “you’re a sensible girl, and I needn’t go out of my way to tell you things that you’re smart enough to see for yourself.  You’re ’pert enough without Latin’—­as they say!  Well, I’ll just say one other thing to you, and it’s this.  Larry Coppinger’s up for this election, and I’ve told him to use this house, like his own, as much as he wants to,” the Doctor stood up and took a pocket-book from the breast-pocket of his coat.  “You’re to make it agreeable for him to come here.  Mind that!  And more than agreeable!  I’ll think very little of you if you don’t have him at your feet before you’re done with him!” he went on, selecting something from among the papers in the pocket-book as he spoke.  “There’s not a girl in Ireland that wouldn’t half hang herself for the chance you’ll have!  And there’s not a girl in Cluhir but will be gibeing you if you lose it!” He took a step towards where Tishy was sitting, and put his hand under his chin.

Her bright water-grey eyes were alight with mutiny; she laughed defiantly.

“Suppose I don’t want it!”

Her father looked steadily at her; he saw, as clearly as if she had spoken, that the suggestion had excited her.

“Well, Babs,” he said, with the laugh that always seemed an octave higher than matched with his voice, “if you’re able to bring him to your feet—­and I’m not saying you will!  You might find it a bit of a job too!—­you’ll want a dandy pair of shoes on them!  Put this in your pocket.”

He had taken a ten-pound note out of his pocket-book, and he pushed it into Tishy’s strong and supple white hand.

CHAPTER XXXV

Great pain paralyses the mind, as the torture of a limb makes the limb faint and helpless.  When the heart-pain can be dealt with as a separate thing, it is no longer supreme.

This was the difference between Christian and Larry.  Her love was herself, indivisible, a condition of her being.  When it ceased, it would mean that the creature that called herself Christian Talbot-Lowry had ceased also.  During the long, bright morning, after Larry and Dr. Mangan had departed together, she felt that this had happened; that the part of her that knew and suffered had gone away, or was lying dead in her.  There was a weight in her breast,