The Heir of Kilfinnan | Page 5

basket of fish on her shoulders. As the young ladies entered, conducted by Dermot, she placed two three-legged stools and begged them to be seated, for there was no chair in the hut.
"You have come to honour an old fishwife with a visit, ladies," she said; "you are welcome. If I lived in a palace you would be more welcome still. My boy has told me of your kindness to him. A mother's heart is grateful. I can give nothing in return, but again I say, you are welcome."
"We came to show you a drawing I made of him," said Lady Sophy. "Here, see, do you think it like him?"
"Oh! like him!" exclaimed the widow, lifting up her hands; "indeed, like him, and far more like him who has gone--his father--whose grave lies off there in the cold dark sea. I would that I could possess that drawing, I should prize it more than pearls!"
"I will make you a copy," said Lady Sophy, "on one condition, that you allow me to make a drawing of yourself."
"Of me! of the old fishwife?" exclaimed the astonished widow. "There is little that would repay you for doing that, lady!"
The young lady smiled as she gazed at the picturesque costume and the still handsome features of the woman, although the signs of age had already come upon them. Her eyes were unusually bright, but her cheek and mouth had fallen in, and her figure having lost all the roundness of youth, was thin and wiry.
"Oh yes, you would make a beautiful picture," exclaimed the young lady, looking at her with the enthusiasm of an artist. "Do sit still on that cask for a time with a basket of fish at your feet. You must let me draw you thus. Remember, if you will not, I cannot promise to make a copy of your son's likeness for you."
"As you will, ladies," answered the fishwife. "The bribe you offer is great. As for me, it matters little what you make of me. You are likely to give me qualities I do not possess."
Although she used appropriate terms, she spoke the English with some difficulty. It was unusual for any of the peasantry of that part of the coast in those days to speak English, and how she had acquired a knowledge of the language, and had been able to impart it to her son, it was difficult to say. Perhaps her husband might have spoken it, or her younger days might have been passed in some distant part of the country, and yet she had the characteristic features of the people in the south-west of Ireland, many of whom are descended from Spanish settlers, who had crossed over in ancient days from the coast of Spain.
Dermot stood by Lady Nora's side, watching with looks of astonishment the progress made by Lady Sophy's pencil. He hastened to bring her a cup of water that she asked for, to moisten her colours; still greater was his surprise when he saw the tints thrown in and gradually a very perfect portrait produced of his mother.
He clapped his hands with delight. "It's her, it's her," he exclaimed; "I wish that thus she could always be. Oh, lady, if you give my mother a likeness of me, I must ask you to give me a copy of that portrait. It's beautiful; it's like her in every respect. If I were away from her, I should think it could speak to me."
"Away from her," said the woman, looking up and speaking to herself. "Oh, that so dark a day should ever arrive, and yet am I to keep him always by me, perhaps to share the fate of his father."
The words scarcely reached the ears of those in the hut.
At length Dermot obtained a promise from Lady Sophy that she would give him a copy of the portrait she had just taken. He now accompanied her and her young companion to the spot where they had left the horses.
"You must promise to come to-morrow, Dermot," said the Lady Sophy; "we wish to push you on with your lessons, for we shall not be here much longer, and we probably shall not return until next year."
CHAPTER TWO.
Dermot promised Lady Sophy to read all the books she had given him. When they left his mother's hut he begged leave to accompany her and Lady Nora, in order that he might see them across the downs. He had discovered during his visits to the castle that the young Lady Nora was the Earl of Kilfinnan's only daughter. He had a son also; a noble little boy he had heard. He was away at school in England; his father being fully conscious that an Irish castle in those days was not a place favourable to education.