“Why, Lawless, man!” cried Freddy, “what are you doing? Have you taken leave of your senses all of a sudden?”
“Eh! I believe 1 should have, if I had not hit upon that dodge for keeping myself quiet.”
“A somewhat Irish way of keeping quiet,” returned Freddy; “why, the perspiration is pouring down your face—you look regularly used up.”
“Well, I am pretty nearly done brown—rather baked than otherwise,” replied Lawless; “let me tell you, it's no joke to jump five hundred times over a stick three feet high or more.”
“And why, in the name of all that's absurd, have you been doing it then?”
“Eh I why, you see, after I had sent our letter, I got into such a dreadful state of impatience and worry, I didn't know what to do with myself; I could not sit still at any price, and, first of all, I thought I'd have a good gallop, but I declare to you I felt so reckless and desperate, that I fancied I should go and break my neck; well, then it occurred to me to jump over that stick till I had tired myself out—five hundred times have I done it, and a pretty stiff job it was, too. And now, what news have you got for me, Frank?”
“My dear Lawless,” said I, laying my hand on his shoulder, “you must prepare for a disappointment.”
“There, that will do,” interrupted Lawless; “as to preparation, if my last hour's work is not preparation enough for anything, it's a pity. What! she'll have nothing to say to me at any price, eh?”
“Why, you see, we have all been labouring under a delusion,” I began.
“I have, under a most precious one,” continued Lawless—“regularly put my foot in it—made a complete ass of myself—eh! don't you see? Well, I'm not going to break my heart about it after all; it's only a woman, and it's my opinion people set a higher price upon those cattle than they are worth—they are a shying, skittish breed, the best of them.”