“And the dear Duchess,” resumed Mrs. Rooney, “she's troubled with the nerves like myself. Ah! Mr. Hinton, what an affliction it is to have a sensitive nature; that's what I often say to my sweet young friend here. It's better for her to be the gay, giddy, thoughtless, happy thing she is, than——” Here the lady sighed, wiped her eyes, flourished her cambric, and tried to look like Agnes in the “Bleeding Nun.” “But here they come. You don't know Mr. Rooney? Allow me to introduce him to you.”
As she spoke, O'Grady cantered up to the carriage, accompanied by a short, pursy, round-faced little man, who, with his hat set knowingly on one side, and his top-boots scarce reaching to the middle of the leg, bestrode a sharp, strong-boned hackney, with cropped ears and short tail. He carried in his hand a hunting-whip, and seemed, by his seat in the saddle and the easy finger upon the bridle, no indifferent horseman.
“Mr. Rooney,” said the lady, drawing herself up with a certain austerity of manner, “I wish you to make the acquaintance of Mr. Hinton, the aide-de-camp to his Grace.”
Mr. Rooney lifted his hat straight above his head, and replaced it a little more obliquely than before over his right eye.
“Delighted, upon my honour—faith, quite charmed—hope you got something to eat—there never was such a murthering hot day—Bob Dwyer, open a bottle of port—the Captain is famished.”
“I say, Hinton,” called out O'Grady, “you forgot the Duke, it seems; he told me you'd gone in search of some sherry, or something of the kind; but I can readily conceive how easily a man may forget himself in such a position as yours.”
Here Mrs. Paul dropped her head in deep confusion, Miss Bellew looked saucy, and I, for the first time remembering what brought me there, was perfectly overwhelmed with shame at my carelessness.
“Never mind, boy, don't fret about it, his Grace is the most forgiving man in the world; and when he knows where you were——”
“Ah, Captain!” sighed Mrs. Rooney.
“Master Phil, it's yourself can do it,” murmured Paul, who perfectly appreciated O'Grady's powers of “blarney,” when exercised on the susceptible temperament of his fair spouse.