Mr. O’Neill bowed.
‘Thank you, madam. This will bear me out against Lord Hartford. His lordship lectured me severely last time he came to inspect Fort Adrian.’
‘What about?’ asked Miss Laury, turning aside her face to hide the deepening of colour which overspread it at the mention of Lord Hartford’s name.
‘I can hardly tell you, madam; but his lordship was in a savage temper. Nothing could please him. He found fault with everything and everybody. I thought he scarcely appeared himself, and that has been the opinion of many lately.’
Miss Laury gently shook her head.
‘You shall not say so, Ryan,’ she replied in a soft tone of reproof. ‘Lord Hartford has a great many things to think about, and he is naturally rather stern. You ought to bear with his tempers.’
‘Necessity has no law, madam,’ replied O’Neill with a smile, ‘and I must bear with them. But his lordship is not a popular man in the army. He orders the lash so unsparingly. We like the Earl of Arundel ten times better.’
‘Ah,’ said Miss Laury, smiling, ‘you and I are Westerns, Mr. O’Neill: Irish,—and we favour our countrymen. But Hartford is a gallant commander. His men can always trust him. Do not let us be partial.’
Mr. O’Neill bowed in deference to her opinion, but smiled at the same time, as if he doubted its justice. Taking up his books he seemed about to leave the room. Before he did so, however, he turned and said:
‘The duke wished me to inform you, madam, that he would probably be here about four or five o’clock in the afternoon.’