Lady Anne went on without attending to his looks.
"You naughty boy! Answering your poor little mother so shortly, and all because I would not hear of you going tiring yourself to death with Eustace and all those men. Only fancy, Sir Aymer, this overgrown boy of mine wanting to set out on a walking tour with Eustace—my nephew, you know—in Ireland; as if Villiers were fit for such a trying performance!"
"He is as fit for it as any lad of his years," said Sir Aymer; "and it would be a great deal better for him than playing croquet with one Miss Lowther, and doing paintings for another; ay, or listening to Lord Villiers talking rank revolutionism every day after dinner. Go, by all means, boy; I'll give you a cheque—By the way, though, what part of Ireland are they going to?"
"Dublin," Villiers answered with alacrity, "and by train to Cork; walk to Killarney, back to Dublin, and by train to the north; walk to the Giant's Causeway, and finish by doing Connemara, if time and money permit."
"They shall permit in your case," said Sir Aymer. "Write and accept, and stay as long as you like. Dublin, Killarney, the Causeway, Connemara; yes, no danger. Lady Anne, you don't seem to be pleased, but you cannot tie a lad to your apron-strings all his life!"
"Yet I may be excused for wishing to see something of my only child, Sir Aymer. Now, if he went to Deepdale, I could go also."
Sir Aymer smiled, and walked away without answering. The gate of Cork (supposing Cork to have a gate) closed behind the deluded pig. Pig-driving is tiring work.
"There, Villiers, I have managed it for you. Oh, dear, how weary I am of it all!"
"Managed it for me, mamma! Why, you fought hard on the other side; I declare I thought it was all up with me!"
"Oh, go away, you literal-minded boy! I am going in to get some tea. An engagement with Sir Aymer tires me to death."