‘I believe, if I engage in the struggle, I shall continue to the end,’ said Dick, half doggedly.
‘Your personal pluck and determination I do not question for a moment. Now, let us see’—here he seemed to ruminate for some seconds, and looked like one debating a matter with himself. ‘Yes,’ cried he at last, ‘I believe that will be the best way. I am sure it will. When do you go back, Mr. Kearney—to Kilgobbin, I mean?’
‘My intention was to go down the day after to-morrow.’
‘That will be Friday. Let us see, what is Friday? Friday is the 15th, is it not?’
‘Yes.’
‘Friday’—muttered the other—‘Friday? There’s the Education Board, and the Harbour Commissioners, and something else at—to be sure, a visit to the Popish schools with Dean O’Mahony. You couldn’t make it Saturday, could you?’
‘Not conveniently. I had already arranged a plan for Saturday. But why should I delay here—to what end?’
‘Only that, if you could say Saturday, I would like to go down with you.’
From the mode in which he said these words, it was clear that he looked for an almost rapturous acceptance of his gracious proposal; but Dick did not regard the project in that light, nor was he overjoyed in the least at the proposal.
‘I mean,’ said Walpole, hastening to relieve the awkwardness of silence—‘I mean that I could talk over this affair with your father in a practical business fashion, that you could scarcely enter into. Still, if Saturday could not be managed, I’ll try if I could not run down with you on Friday. Only for a day, remember, I must return by the evening train. We shall arrive by what hour?’