“I know it,” whispered the other; and added, aloud, “Many a fellow that thinks he has the first charge on the property will soon discover his mistake; there are mortgages of more than eighty years' standing on the estate. You've had a great sleep, sir,” said he, addressing Merl, who now yawned and opened his eyes; “I hope our talking did n't disturb you?”
“Not in the least,” said Merl, rising and stretching his legs. “I'm all right now, and quite fresh for anything.”
“Let me introduce Mr. Crow to you, sir,—a native artist that we 're all proud of.”
“That's exactly what you are not then,” said Crow; “nor would you be if I deserved it. You 'd rather gain a cause at the Quarter Sessions, or take in a friend about a horse, than be the man that painted the Madonna at Florence.”
“He's cross this evening,—cross and ill-humored,” said Scanlan, laughing. “Maybe he 'll be better tempered when we have tea.”
“I was just going to ask for it,” said Merl, as he arranged his whiskers, and performed a small impromptu toilet before the glass, while Simmy issued forth to give the necessary orders.
“We 'll have tea, and a rubber of dummy afterwards,” said Scanlan, “if you've no objection.”
“Whatever you like,—I 'm quite at your disposal,” replied Merl, who now seated himself with an air of bland amiability, ready, according to the amount of the stake, to win pounds or lose sixpences.