“I perceive Sir Archibald has not taught you to respect his native proverb, Miss O'Donoghue, and let 'by-gones be by-gones.'”
“I hae taught her nothing Scotch, sir,” replied Sir Archy, smiling; “but to love a thistle, and that e'en, because it has sting.”
“Not from those that know how to take it, uncle,” said she, archly, and with a fond expression that lit up the old man's face in smiles.
The Guardsman was less at his ease than usual; and, having arranged the matter of his visit satisfactorily, arose to take his leave.
“Then you'll be ready for me at eight, Herbert. My father is a martinet in punctuality, and the phæton will not be a second behind time; remember that, Miss O'Donoghue, for he makes no exception, even for ladies.”
He moved towards the door, then turning suddenly, said—
“By-the-bye, have you heard any thing of a movement in the country here about us? The Government have apparently got some information on the subject, but I suspect without any foundation whatever.”
“To what extent does this information go?” said Sir Archy, cautiously.
“That I can't tell you; all I know is, that my father has just received a letter from the Castle, stating that we are living in the very midst of an organised rebellion, only waiting the signal for open revolt.
“That same rebellion has been going on, to my knowledge, something more than forty years” said the O'Donoghue, laughing; “and I never knew of a Lord Lieutenant or Chief Secretary who didn't discover the plot, and save the kingdom: always leaving a nest egg of treason for his successor to make a character by.”