“Well, the picture is certainly not seductive. I rather opine that the best thing we can do is to throw this old rumbling concern down, at all events; and now once more,—what shall we do with Mr. Corrigan?”
“I should advise you not giving any reply before you visit the property yourself. All business matters will be completed here, I trust, by Saturday. What, then, if we go over on Monday to Tubbermore?”
“Agreed. I have a kind of anxiety to look at the place,—indeed, a mere glance would decide me if I ever care to return to it again.”
“Then, I perceive, our counsel is of no avail here,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, rising, with a very ill-concealed chagrin.
“Nay, madam, don't say so. You never got so far as to give it,” cried Cashel.
“Oh, yes, you forget that I said it would be absurd to hesitate about resuming possession.”
“Unquestionably,” echoed Miss Kennyfeck. “It is merely to indulge an old man's caprice at the cost of your own comfort and convenience.”
“But he may cling to the spot, sister dear,” said Olivia, in an accent only loud enough to be audible by Cashel.
“You are right,” said Roland, in her ear, with a look that spoke his approval far more eloquently.
Although Miss Kennyfeck had heard nothing that passed, her quickness detected the looks of intelligence that were so speedily interchanged, and as she left the room she took occasion to whisper, “Do take advice, dear; there is no keeping up a pace like that.”