The Heir of Kilfinnan | Page 5

boy's mother, and begged them to continue
their ride along the downs, promising in a short time to rejoin them.
Dermot was greatly relieved, for he knew his mother would be much
annoyed at having so many visitors; at the same time he felt equally
sure she would be pleased at seeing the two young ladies.
Widow O'Neil had just reached her hut with a 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