“If I was to give my opinion,” said Doyle, “I’d say that statues was foolishness.”
“Exactly. But the Lord-Lieutenant, when he gets our invitation will give you credit for much finer feeling. Besides he’ll see that we’ve been studying up our past history. The name of General John Regan will mean a great deal to him although it conveys very little to you.”
“It’s what Thady Gallagher is always asking,” said Doyle, “who was the General?”
“Gallagher ought to know,” said Dr. O’Grady, “and I’ve told him so.”
“He does not know then. Nor I don’t believe Father McCormack does. Nor I don’t know myself. Not that it would trouble me if there never was a General, only that you have Mary Ellen’s head turned with the notion that she’ll be coming into a big fortune one of these days——”
“Is she not doing her work?” said Dr. O’Grady.
“Devil the tap she’s done these two days, but what she couldn’t help. Not that that bothers me, for it’s nothing strange. She never was one for doing much unless you stood over her and drove her into it. But what has annoyed me is the way Constable Moriarty is never out of the kitchen or the back yard. He was after her before, but he’s fifty times worse since he heard the talk about her being the niece of the General. Besides the notion he has that young Kerrigan wants her, which has made him wild.”
“Moriarty ought to have more sense,” said Dr. O’Grady.
“He ought,” said Doyle, “but he hasn’t. The tunes he whistles round the house would drive you demented if so be that you listened to them; but I needn’t tell you I don’t do that.”
“You’ll have to put up with it,” said Dr. O’Grady. “It won’t be for very long, and you needn’t mind what Mary Ellen neglects so long as she attends properly on Mr. Billing.”