What he might have said there is no guessing,—nay, for his sake, and for hers too, it is better not even to speculate on it; but ere he could reply, another speaker joined in the colloquy, saying,—
“Good morning, Mr. Cashel. Pray don't forget, when the lesson is over, that we are waiting breakfast.” So saying, and with a laugh of saucy raillery, Miss Kennyfeck passed down the stairs, not remaining to hear his answer.
“Oh, Mr. Cashel!” exclaimed Olivia, with a tone half reproachful, half shy, “we shall be scolded,—at least, I shall,” added she. “It is the unforgivable offence in this house to be late at breakfast.”
Cashel would very willingly have risked all the consequences of delay for a few minutes longer of their interview; but already she had tripped on downstairs, and with such speed as to enter the breakfast-parlor a few seconds before him. Roland was welcomed by the family without the slightest shade of dissatisfaction at his late appearance, cordial greetings and friendly inquiries as to how he had rested pouring in on every side.
“What 's to be done with Mr. Cashel to-day? I hope he is not to be teased by business people and red-tapery,” said Mrs. Kenny feck to her husband.
“I am afraid,” said the silky attorney, “I am very much afraid I must trespass on his kindness to accompany me to the Master's office. There are some little matters which will not wait.”
“Oh, they must,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, peremptorily. “Who is the Master,—Liddard, is n't it? Well, tell him to put it off; Mr. Cashel must really have a little peace and quietness after all his fatigues.”
“It will only take an hour, at most, Mrs. Kennyfeck,” remonstrated her submissive mate.
“Well, that is nothing,” cried Cashel. “I 'm not in the least tired, and the day is long enough for everything.”
“Then we have a little affair which we can manage at home here about the mortgages. I told you—”