“Not the same Curtis that refused his Grace leave to shoot over his bog at Bally vane?”
“The very man, and just as likely to send another refusal if the request be repeated.”
“I didn't know of this, Dan,” interposed my father. “This is really awkward.”
“Perhaps it was a little untoward,” replied MacNaghten, “but there was no help for it. Joe asked himself; and when I wrote to say that the Duke was coming, he replied that he 'd certainly not fail to be here, for he did n't think there was another house in the kingdom likely to harbor them both at the same time.”
“He was right there,” said Rutledge, gravely.
“He generally is right,” replied MacNaghten, with a dry nod. “Stephen Blake, too, isn't unlikely to come over, particularly if he finds out that we 've little room to spare, and that he 'll put us all to inconvenience.”
“Oh, we'll have room enough for every one,” cried my father.
“I do hope, at least, none will go away for want of—how you say, place?” said my mother.
“That's exactly the right word for it,” cried MacNaghten, slyly. “'Tis looking for places the half of them are. I've said nothing of the ladies, Rutledge; for of course your courtly habits see no party distinctions amongst the fair sex. We'll astonish your English notions, I fancy, with such a display of Irish beauty as you 've no idea of.”
“That we can appreciate without the slightest disparagement on the score of politics.”