“He! It’s little he troubles himself about her! Why, it’s often three days that they don’t even meet! They never take their meals together. It’s a wonder of kindness from him the day that he’ll tap the window of her room with his knuckles and say ‘Good morning,’ and when she’d get up to open the window to answer him, he’d be gone!”
“How desolate—-how dreary!” muttered the old man. “Does this wearisome life prey upon her? Is she altered in appearance—thinner or paler?”
“I’ll tell you how she looks, and there’s not a man in Ireland understands a woman’s face better than him before you, and here’s what it means in three words. It means scorn for a world that could let the like of her wither and waste on that lonely rock, for it’s not alone beauty she has, but she has grace and elegance, and a way of charming about her that’s more than beauty, and there’s a something in her voice—what it is I don’t know, but it goes on thrilling into you after she has done speaking, till you just feel that a spell was working in you, and making you a slave.”
“And you have felt this?” said the old man, as though involuntarily demanding an avowal that would have set the seal of confirmation on her magic.
And the cunning Celt felt all the force of the sarcasm, while it did not suit his purpose to confess it. And yet it needed great self-control to suppress his rising anger, and keep him from declaring that in a matter of sentiment, or on a question of female captivation, he, Tim O’Rorke, Patriot, Martyr, and Paddy as he was, yielded to no man.
“Would you kindly ring that bell beside you, Mr.—Mr.——”
“O’Rorke, Sir.”
“Mr. O’Rorke, I am diffident about my pronunciation of Irish names,” added the old diplomatist, cautiously veiling the sin of his forgetfulness. A servant speedily appeared, and Sir Within ordered him to take every care for “this gentleman’s accommodation.” “I shall be able to prepare my reply to this letter to-night, Mr. O’Rorke, and you will be free to leave this at any hour that may suit you in the morning.”
O’Rorke retired from the presence, well satisfied with himself, and with the way he had acquitted himself.
“Would you like to have the papers, Sir, or would you prefer seeing the gallery, while supper is getting ready?” asked the obsequious servant.