“I mean it is not necessary.”
“Isn’t it likely?”
“No; certainly not.”
“Isn’t it possible, then?”
“Everything is possible in this world of debts and difficulties, but no gentleman ever thinks of throwing off the man that has stood to him in his hour of need. Is that enough?”
O’Rorke made no answer, and in the attitude of deep thought he assumed, and in his intense look of reflection, it was pretty plain that he did not deem the explanation all-sufficient. “Here’s how it is, Sir!” burst he out, suddenly. “If this girl dies, you won’t want me; and if you won’t want me, it’s very unlikely the pleasure of my society will make you come after me; so that I’d like to understand how it’s to be between us.”
“I must say, my worthy friend, everything I have seen of you goes very far to refute the popular notion abroad about Irish improvidence; for, a man so careful of himself under every contingency—one who looked to his own interests in all aspects and with all casualties—I never met before.”
“Well, Sir, you meet him now. He is here before you; and what do you say to him?” said O’Rorke, with a cool audacity that was actually startling.
It was very probably fortunate for both of them, so far as their present good relations were concerned, that an interruption took place to their colloquy in the shape of a sharp knock at the door. It was a person wanted to see Mr. O’Rorke.
“Mr. O’Rorke’s in request to-night,” said Ladarelle, mockingly, as the other left the room.