‘Not at once, because there was first of all a sort of account of the insurrectionary movement here, with a number of queries, such as, “Who is M——?” “Are F. Y—— and McCausland the same person?” “What connection exists between the Meath outrages and the late events in Tipperary?” “How is B—— to explain his conduct sufficiently to be retained in the Commission of the Peace?” In a word, Miss Kearney, all the troublesome details by which a Ministry have to keep their own supporters in decent order, are here hinted at, if not more, and it lies with a batch of red-hot Tories to make a terrible scandal out of this affair.’
‘It is graver than I suspected,’ said she thoughtfully.
‘And I may lose my place,’ muttered Curtis, ‘unless, indeed, you would condescend to say a word for me to Mr. Walpole.’
‘Willingly, if it were of any use, but I think my cousin, Mademoiselle Kostalergi, would be likelier of success, and here she comes.’
Nina came forward at that moment, with that indolent grace of movement with which she swept the greensward of the lawn as though it were the carpet of a saloon. With a brief introduction of Mr. Curtis, her cousin Kate, in a few words, conveyed the embarrassment of his present position, and his hope that a kindly intercession might avert his danger.
‘What droll people you must be not to find out that the letters of a Viceroy’s secretary could not be the correspondence of a rebel leader,’ said Nina superciliously.
‘I have already told Miss Kearney how that fell out,’ said he; ‘and I assure you there was enough in those papers to mystify better and clearer heads.’
‘But you read the addresses, and saw how the letters began, “My dear Mr. Walpole,” or “Dear Walpole”?’