“Well, that’s kind of him, isn’t it, Frank? So, you’ve a chance left, yet.”
“Ah! but you forget Morris,” said Tierney; “and there’s yourself, too. If Ballindine is not to be the lucky man, I don’t see why either of you should despair.”
“Oh! as for me, I’m the devil. I’ve a tail, only I don’t wear it, except on state occasions; and I’ve horns and hoofs, only people can’t see them. But I don’t see why Morris should not succeed: he’s the only one of the four that doesn’t own a racehorse, and that’s much in his favour. What do you say, Morris?”
“I’d have no objection,” said the member; “except that I wouldn’t like to stand in Lord Ballindine’s way.”
“Oh! he’s the soul of good-nature. You wouldn’t take it ill of him, would you, Frank?”
“Not the least,” said Frank, sulkily; for he didn’t like the conversation, and he didn’t know how to put a stop to it.
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving him a line of introduction to Lord Cashel,” said Mat.
“But, Morris,” said Blake, “I’m afraid your politics would go against you. A Repealer would never go down at Grey Abbey.”
“Morris’ll never let his politics harm him,” said Tierney. “Repeal’s a very good thing the other side of the Shannon; or one might, carry it as far as Conciliation Hall, if one was hard pressed, and near an election. Were you ever in Conciliation Hall yet, Morris?”
“No, Mat; but I’m going next Thursday. Will you go with me?”