“I tell you she’ll be all right. Now, Doyle, will you read us that letter from your nephew? If we don’t get on with our business we’ll be here all night.”
CHAPTER XV
“I can’t find the letter high or low,” said Doyle.
“Maybe now,” said Father McCormack, “it’s not in your pocket at all.”
“It should be,” said Doyle, “for it was there I put it after showing it to the doctor here yesterday.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Dr. O’Grady, “you can tell us what he said in your own words.”
“What I told my nephew,” said Doyle, “when I was writing to him, was that the committee was a bit pressed in the matter of time, owing to next Thursday week being the only day that it was convenient for the Lord-Lieutenant to attend for the opening of the statue. Well, gentlemen, by the height of good luck it just happens that my nephew has a statue on hand which he thinks would do us.”
“He has what?” said the Major.
“A statue that has been left on his hands,” said Doyle. “The way of it was this. It was ordered by the relatives of a deceased gentleman, and it was to have been put up in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin.”