"Now you can't say as that wasn't like a Forsyth," asserted Harkness,
proudly, belowstairs. "If Missy wants a young lydy for a companion,
well, she's a right to the kind of young lydy she wants." But Budge had
escaped the reach of his voice.
In the library Cornelius Allendyce was patting Robin on the head.
"Well, you've won out in the first skirmish, my dear. But keep your
weapons at hand."
CHAPTER IX
THE LYNCHS
The only thing that made the Lynch's cottage any different from the two
hundred others at the mills, was that it stood at the end of a dreary
row and therefore had a window on the side of its living room which
overlooked the hills and the river.
This window was Moira Lynch's delight. Her poor, big Danny could sit in
it all day long. And from it she herself could watch the setting sun
flame over the crest of the hills and the narrow river shake off its
workaday dress and go racing into the shadows of the woods. Poor Moira,
years of heartbreaking work and worry had not changed her very much from
the girl who had liked to lie in the deep sweet grass of her dear
Ireland and let her fancy follow the winging birds into a land of
dreams.
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