“I was thinking, sir, if I saw Miss Mary, and could get her to spake a word to the master,—they say she can do what she plazes with him.”
“Indeed!—who says so?”
“The servants' hall says it; and so does Mr. Corrigan's ould butler. He towld me the other day that he hoped he 'd be claning the plate up at the big house before he died.”
“How so?” said Linton, affecting not to catch the intention of the remark.
“Just that he was to be butler at the hall when the master was married to Miss Mary.”
“And so, I suppose, this is very likely to happen?”
“Sure yer honer knows betther than ignorant craytures like us; but faix, if walking about in the moonlight there, among the flowers, and talking together like whisperin', is any sign, I would n't wonder if it came about.”
“Indeed! and they have got that far?”
“Ay, faith!” said Tom, with a significance of look only an Irishman or an Italian can call up.
“Well, I had no suspicion of this,” said Linton, with a frankness meant to invite further confidence.