“No, no,—it was a row among the women. They laid some scheme for making Cashel propose for one of the girls.”
“Not Olivia, I hope?” said Upton, as he lighted a new cigar.
“I rather suspect it was,” interposed another.
“In any case, Linton,” cried Jennings, “you are to be the gainer, for the rumor says, Cashel will give you the agency, with his house to live in, and a very jolly thing to spend, while he goes abroad to travel.”
“If this news be true, Tom,” said Frobisher, “I 'll quarter my yearlings on you; there is a capital run for young horses in those flats along the river.”
“The house is cold at this season,” said Meek, with a sad smile; “but I think it would be very endurable in the autumn months. I should n't say but you may see us here again at that time.”
“I hope 'ours' may be quartered at Limerick,” said an infantryman, with a most suggestive look at the comforts of the apartment, which were a pleasing contrast to barrack-room accommodation.
“Make yourselves perfectly at home here, gentlemen, when that good time comes,” said Linton, with one of his careless laughs. “I tell you frankly, that if Cashel does make me such a proposal—a step which, from his knowledge of my indolent, lazy habits, is far from likely—I only accept on one condition.”
“What is that?” cried a dozen voices.
“That you will come and pass your next Christmas here.”