"She is good-tempered, and she is natural--the two best things a woman can be."
"Why not come down along with me and try your luck?"
"When do you go?"
"By the 10.30 train to-morrow. I shall arrive at Moate by four o"clock, and reach the castle to dinner."
"They expect you?"
"Only so far, that I have telegraphed a line to say I"m going down to bid "Good-bye" before I sail for Guatemala. I don"t suspect they know where that is, but it"s enough when they understand it is far away."
"I"ll go with you."
"Will you really?"
"I will. I"ll not say on such an errand as your own, because that requires a second thought or two; but I"ll reconnoitre, Master Cecil, I"ll reconnoitre."
"I suppose you know there is no money."
"I should think money most unlikely in such a quarter; and it"s better she should have none than a small fortune. I"m an old whist-player, and when I play dummy, there"s nothing I hate more than to see two or three small trumps in my partner"s hand."
"I imagine you"ll not be distressed in that way here."
"I"ve got enough to come through with; that is, the thing can be done if there be no extravagances."
"Does one want for more?" cried Walpole theatrically.
"I don"t know that. If it were only ask and have, I should like to be tempted."
"I have no such ambition. I firmly believe that the moderate limits a man sets to his daily wants const.i.tute the real liberty of his intellect and his intellectual nature."
"Perhaps I"ve no intellectual nature, then," growled out Lockwood, "for I know how I should like to spend fifteen thousand a year. I suppose I shall have to live on as many hundreds."
"It can be done."
"Perhaps it may. Have another weed?"
"No. I told you already I have begun a tobacco reformation."
"Does she object to the pipe?"
"I cannot tell you. The fact is, Lockwood, my future and its fortunes are just as uncertain as your own. This day week will probably have decided the destiny of each of us."
"To our success, then!" cried the major, filling both their gla.s.ses.
"To our success!" said Walpole, as he drained his, and placed it upside down on the table.
CHAPTER LXIX
AT KILGOBBIN CASTLE
The "Blue Goat" at Moate was destined once more to receive the same travellers whom we presented to our readers at a very early stage of this history.
"Not much change here," cried Lockwood, as he strode into the little sitting-room and sat down. "I miss the old fellow"s picture, that"s all."
"Ah! by the way," said Walpole to the landlord, "you had my Lord Kilgobbin"s portrait up there the last time I came through here."
"Yes, indeed, sir," said the man, smoothing down his hair and looking apologetically. "But the Goats and my lord, who was the Buck Goat, got into a little disagreement, and they sent away his picture, and his lordship retired from the club, and--and--that was the way of it."
"A heavy blow to your town, I take it," said the major, as he poured out his beer.
"Well, indeed, your honour, I won"t say it was. You see, sir, times is changed in Ireland. We don"t care as much as we used about the "neighbouring gentry," as they called them once; and as for the lord, there! he doesn"t spend a hundred a year in Moate."
"How is that?"
"They get what they want by rail from Dublin, your honour; and he might as well not be here at all."
"Can we have a car to carry us over to the castle?" asked Walpole, who did not care to hear more of local grievances.
"Sure, isn"t my lord"s car waiting for you since two o"clock!" said the host spitefully, for he was not conciliated by a courtesy that was to lose him a fifteen-shilling fare. "Not that there"s much of a horse between the shafts, or that old Daly himself is an elegant coachman," continued the host; "but they"re ready in the yard when you want them."
The travellers had no reason to delay them in their present quarters, and taking their places on the car, set out for the castle.
"I scarcely thought when I last drove this road," said Walpole, "that the next time I was to come should be on such an errand as my present one."
"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the other. "Our n.o.ble relative that is to be does not shine in equipage. That beast is dead lame."
"If we had our deserts, Lockwood, we should be drawn by a team of doves, with the G.o.d Cupid on the box."
"I"d rather have two posters and a yellow postchaise."
A drizzling rain that now began to fall interrupted all conversation, and each sank back into his own thoughts for the rest of the way.
Lord Kilgobbin, with his daughter at his side, watched the car from the terrace of the castle as it slowly wound its way along the bog road.
"As well as I can see, Kate, there is a man on each side of the car," said Kearney, as he handed his field-gla.s.s to his daughter.
"Yes, papa, I see there are two travellers."
"And I don"t well know why there should be even one! There was no such great friendship between us that he need come all this way to bid us good-bye."
"Considering the mishap that befell him here, it is a mark of good feeling to desire to see us all once more, don"t you think so?"
"May be so," muttered he drearily. "At all events, it"s not a pleasant house he"s coming to. Young O"Shea there upstairs, just out of a fever; and old Miss Betty, that may arrive any moment."