"Is not she married to a queer Irishman who lives at a place with a ridiculous name—Crow-more? And Aunt Julia won't have anything to do with her?"
"Yes, your Aunt Julia did not approve of the match. This Sheridan was a kind of professor that Christina met abroad, a most dreamy, unpractical genius, with a magnificent head, and a brogue that you could cut with a hatchet. After living for some years in a small German town, they went over to Ireland, and there they reside on a property that was left to him. I write now and then" (and he might have added, enclose a cheque), "but Christina never sends me a line—I'm afraid they are very badly off," shaking his head as he stirred his tea.
"Now tell me something about this delightful place, papa! I've been reading a good deal about it, I mean the Andamans. They were first taken possession of in 1789 by the British Government, or rather, the East India Company, were abandoned in 1796, and resumed in 1858, the year after the Mutiny; don't I know it all nicely?"
"You know a great deal more about it than I do."
"This is Ross, is it not?"
"Yes, the other settlements are scattered about. People come over here to church, to shop, to play tennis, and to hear the news."
"And are there many other people—I don't mean convicts and soldiers?"
"There are about fifty men, and fifteen or sixteen ladies. No doubt you will have a good many visitors to-day."
"Oh, papa! you don't mean it—not to call on me?"
"Yes, of course; who else would they come to see?"