“How is Herbert?” said the O'Donoghue, as he heard the footsteps beside his bed, for he had been dreaming of the boy a few minutes previous. “Who is that? Ah! Kerry. Well, how is he to-day?”
“Troth there's no great change to spake of,” said Kerry, who, not having made any inquiry himself, and never expecting to have been questioned on the subject, preferred this safe line of reply, as he deemed it, to a confession of his ignorance.
“Did he sleep well, Kerry?”
“Oh! for the matter of the sleep we won't boast of it. But here's a letter for your honour, come by the post.”
“Leave it on the bed, and tell me about the boy.”
“Faix there's nothing particular, then, to tell yer honour—sometimes he'd be one way, sometimes another—and more times the same way again. That's the way he'd be all the night through.”
The O'Donoghue pondered for a second or two, endeavouring to frame some distinct notion from these scanty materials, and then said—
“Send Master Mark to me.” At the same instant he drew aside the curtain, and broke the seal of the letter. The first few lines, however, seemed to satisfy his curiosity, although the epistle was written in a close hand, and extended over three sides of the paper; and he threw it carelessly on the bed, and lay down again once more. During all this time, however, Kerry managed to remain in the room, and, while affecting to arrange clothes and furniture, keenly scrutinized the features of his master. It was of no use, however. The old man's looks were as apathetic as usual, and he seemed already to have forgotten the missive Kerry had endowed with so many terrors and misfortunes.
“Herbert has passed a favourable night,” said Mark, entering a few moments after. “The fever seems to have left him, and, except for debility, I suppose there is little to ail him. What!—a letter! Who is this from?”
“From Kate,” said the old man listlessly. “I got as far as 'My dear uncle;' the remainder must await a better light, and, mayhap, sharper eyesight too—for the girl has picked up this new mode of scribbling, which is almost unintelligible to me.”