“I was twice at the Hall, but there's no seeing Cashel himself; an insolent puppy of a valet turned away contemptuously as I asked for him, and said,—
“Mr. Linton, perhaps, might hear what you have to say.'”
“Is Kennyfeck to be found?”
“Yes, I saw him for a few minutes; but he's like the rest of them. The old fool fancies he 's a man of fashion here, and told me he had left 'the attorney' behind, in Merrion Square. He half confessed to me, however, what I feared. Cashel has either given a promise to give this farm of yours to Linton—”
“Well, the new landlord will not be less kind than the old one.”
“You think so,” said Tiernay, sternly. “Is your knowledge of life no better than this? Have you lived till now without being able to read that man? Come, come, Corrigan, don't treat this as a prejudice of mine; I have watched him closely, and he sees it. I tell you again, the fellow is a villain.”
“Ay, ay,” said Corrigan, laughing; “your doctor's craft has made you always on the look-out for some hidden mischief.”
“My doctor's craft has taught me to know that symptoms are never without a meaning. But enough of him. The question is simply this: we have, then, merely to propose to Cashel the purchase of your interest in the cottage, on which you will cede the possession.”
“Yes; and give up, besides, all claim at law; for you know we are supported by the highest opinions.”
“Pooh! nonsense, man; don't embarrass the case by a pretension they 're sure to sneer at. The cottage and the little fields behind it are tangible and palpable; don't weaken your case by a plea you could not press.”