“Saw him this morning, sir, just after he got up.”
“Indeed! This is remarkably good ale, sir—will you honour me by tasting it?”
“Sir, you are very kind; but the fact is I never drink malt liquor. Here, girl, bring a half pint of brandy. I trust, sir, you will not refuse to join me in a glass, although I cannot venture to accept your polite offer.”
Furness drank off his pot of ale, and made ready for the brandy which had been offered him; McShane filled his own glass, and then handed the decanter over to Furness.
“I have the pleasure of drinking your good health, sir,” said McShane. “You are from the country, I presume; may I inquire from what part?”
“I am from Devonshire; I was formerly head of the grammar school at —; but, sir, my principles would not allow me to retain my situation; rectitude of conduct, sir, is absolutely necessary to the profession which inculcates morality and virtue, as well as instruction to youth, sir. Here’s to our better acquaintance, sir.”
“Sir, to your’s; I honour your sentiments. By the powers! but you’re right, Mr —, I beg your pardon—but I don’t catch your name exactly.”
“Furness, sir, at your service. Yes, sir, the directors of the foundation which I presided over, I may say, with such credit to myself, and such advantage to the pupils under my care, wished to make a job—yes, sir—of a charity; I could not consent to such deeds, and I resigned.”
“And you have been in London ever since?”
“No, sir; I repaired to the small village of Grassford, where I set up a school, but circumstances compelled me to resign, and I am now about to seek for employment in another hemisphere; in short, I have an idea of going out to New South Wales as a preceptor. I understand they are in great want of tuition in that quarter.”