“What says Fifine? I suspect she agrees with me.”
“If that means that he ought to be here, grandpapa, I do.”
“I must read over Withering's letter again, brother,” said Miss Dinah, by way of changing the subject “He writes, you say, from the Home?”
“Yes; he was obliged to go down there to search for some papers he wanted, and he took Stapylton with him; and he says they had two capital days at the partridges. They bagged,—egad! I think it was eight or ten brace before two o'clock, the Captain or Major, I forget which, being a first-rate shot.”
“What does he say of the place,—how is it looking?”
“In perfect beauty. Your deputy, Polly, would seem to have fulfilled her part admirably. The garden in prime order; and that little spot next your own sitting-room, he says, is positively a better flower-show than one he paid a shilling to see in Dublin. Polly herself, too, comes in for a very warm share of his admiration.”
“How did he see her, and where?”
“At the Home. She was there the evening they arrived, and Withering insisted on her presiding at the tea-table for them.”
“It did not require very extraordinary entreaty, I will make bold to say, Peter.”
“He does not mention that; he only speaks of her good looks, and what he calls her very pretty manners. In a situation not devoid of a certain awkwardness he says she displayed the most perfect tact; and although doing the honors of the house, she, with some very nice ingenuity, insinuated that she was herself but a visitor.”