“Are you not forgetting the fairest part of the pageants papa?” broke in Mary.
“No, my dear, that group usually waited to join us as we returned. Then, when the 'Retour de la Chasse' rang out from every horn, and the whole wood re-echoed with the triumphant sounds, then might be seen the queen and her ladies advancing to meet us. I think I see her yet, the fair-haired queen, the noblest and most beautiful in all that lovely circle, mounted on her spotted Arabian, who bore himself proudly beneath his precious burden. Ah! too truly did Burke say, 'the Age of Chivalry was past,' or never had such sorrows gone unavenged. Young gentleman, I know not whether you have already conceived strong opinions upon politics, and whether you incline to one or other of the great parties that divide the kingdom, but one thing I would beseech you,—be a Monarchist. There is a steadfast perseverance in clinging to the legitimate Sovereign. Like the very observance of truth itself, shake the conviction once, and there is no limit to scepticism.”
“Humph!” muttered Tiernay, half aloud. “Considering how royalty treated your ancestors, your ardor in their favor might be cooled a little.”
“What's Tiernay saying?” said the old man.
“Grumbling, as usual, papa,” said Mary, laughing, and not willing to repeat the remark.
“Trying to give a man a bias in politics,” said the doctor, sarcastically, “is absurd, except you accompany the advice with a place. A man's political opinions are born with him, and he has as much to do with the choice of his own Christian name as whether he 'll be a Whig or a Tory.”
“Never mind him, sir,” said Corrigan to Cashel; “one might travesty the well-known epigram, and say of him that he never said a kind thing, nor did a rude one, in his life.”
“The greater fool he, then,” mattered Tiernay, “for the world likes him best who does the exact opposite; and here comes one to illustrate my theory. There, I see him yonder; so I 'll step into the library and look over the newspaper.”
“He cannot endure a very agreeable neighbor of ours,—a Mr. Linton,” said Corrigan, as the doctor retired,—“and makes so little secret of his dislike that I am always glad when they avoid a meeting.”
“Mr. Linton is certainly more generous,” said Mary, “for he enjoys the doctor's eccentricity without taking offence at his rude humor.”