“Ay, that's the question would puzzle him to answer; but it's the haughty old sister persuades him that he ought to take this black girl—George Barrington's daughter—home to live with him, and that a shebeen is n't the place to bring her to, and she a negress. That's more of the family wisdom!”
“There may be affection in it.”
“Affection! For what,—for a black! Ay, and a black that they never set eyes on! If it was old Withering had the affection for her, I wouldn't be surprised.”
“What do you mean? Who is he?”
“The Attorney-General, who has been fighting the East India Company for her these sixteen years, and making more money out of the case than she 'll ever get back again. Did you ever hear of Barrington and Lot Rammadahn Mohr against the India Company? That's the case. Twelve millions of rupees and the interest on them! And I believe in my heart and soul old Peter would be well out of it for a thousand pounds.”
“That is, you suspect he must be beaten in the end?”
“I mean that I am sure of it! We have a saying in Ireland, 'It's not fair for one man to fall on twenty,' and it's just the same thing to go to law with a great rich Company. You 're sure to have the worst of it.”
“Did it never occur to them to make some sort of compromise?”
“Not a bit of it. Old Peter always thinks he has the game in his hand, and nothing would make him throw up the cards. No; I believe if you offered to pay the stakes, he 'd say, 'Play the game out, and let the winner take the money!'”
“His lawyer may, possibly, have something to say to this spirit.”