“In all save the chief ingredient,” replied Linton, laugh-. ing; “we want the monk and the casket.”
“Hush!” said she, cautiously; “grandpapa is a firm believer in all dreams and visions, and would not hear them spoken of irreverently.”
“Assuredly, I never was less in the mind to do so,” replied Linton, with a degree of earnestness that made Mary smile, little suspecting at the time to what his speech owed its fervor.
“We've come to take a last look at the 'Hall,' Mr. Linton,” said the old man. “Tom Keane tells me that your gay company will soon arrive; indeed, rumor says that some have already reached Limerick, and will be here to-morrow.”
“This is more than I knew of,” said Linton; “but here comes the redoubted Tom himself, and with a full letter-bag, too.” Hastily unlocking the leather sack, Tom Linton emptied its contents upon a grassy bench, where the party seated themselves to learn the news. “There are no secrets here,” said Linton, tossing over the letters, with nearly all of whose handwriting he was familiar; “help me, Miss Leicester, I beg, to get through my task. Pray break some of the seals, and tell us who our dear friends are whose presence is so soon to charm and enliven us. And will you, too, sir, bear your part?” Thus invited, old Mr. Corrjgan put on his spectacles, and slowly prepared to assist in the labor.
“That's the Dean's hand, Miss Leicester—the Dean of Drumcondera. I hope he 's not coming; I 'm sure he was never invited.”
“He regrets he cannot be with you this week, but will certainly come next, and take the liberty of presenting his distinguished friend, the Hofrath von Dunnersleben, professor of Oriental Literature at Hochenkanperhausen.”
“This is painting the lily with a vengeance; 'color on color' is bad heraldry, but what shall we say of the taste that brings 'bore upon bore'?”
“'Mrs. Leicester White has prevailed upon Mr. Howie to defer his departure from Ireland—'”
“This is too bad,” interrupted Linton. “What fortune have you, sir? I hope better tidings than Miss Leicester.”