'Though classic 't is to show one's grief,
And cry like Carthaginian Marius,
I 'll not do this, nor ask relief,
Like that ould beggar Belisarius.'
No, ma'am, 'Never give in while there's a score behind the door,'—that's the motto of the Dempseys. If it's not on their coat-of-arms, it's written in their hearts.”
“Your grandfather, however, did not seem to possess the family courage,” said the Knight, slyly.
“Well, and what would you have? Wasn't he brave enough for a wine-merchant?”
“The ladies will give us some tea, Leonard,” said the Knight, as Lady Eleanor and her daughter had, some time before, slipped unobserved from the room.
“Yes, Colonel, always ready.”
“That's the way with him,” whispered Dempsey; “he'd swear black and blue this minute that you commanded the regiment he served in. He very often calls me the quartermaster.”
The party rose to join the ladies; and while Leonard maintained his former silence, Dempsey once more took on himself the burden of the conversation by various little anecdotes of the Fumbally household, and sketches of life and manners at Port Ballintray.
So perfectly at ease did he find himself, so inspired by the happy impression he felt convinced he was making, that he volunteered a song, “if the young lady would only vouchsafe few chords on the piano” by way of accompaniment,—a proposition Helen acceded to.
Thus passed the evening,—a period in which Lady