‘Well, I suppose that since my brother is anxious that you should hold your tongue, he has done something that won’t bear talking about. Were you implicated in—in whatever the trouble was?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Hyacinth. ‘In fact, it was on account of what you speak of as “trouble” that I declined to have anything more to do with your brother.’
‘That is probably very much to your credit, and, in the light of my brother’s estimate of your character, I may say that I entirely believe what you say. Am I to understand that you are an applicant for the post in my business which Albert held, and which this letter tells me I may consider vacant?’
‘That is what brought me down here,’ said Hyacinth.
‘Have you any other recommendations or testimonials as to character to show me?’
‘No. But there are several people who would answer questions about me if you wrote to them: Dr. Henry, of Trinity College, would, or Miss Augusta Goold, or Father Moran, of Carrowkeel, in County Galway.’
‘You have given me the most remarkable list of references I ever came across in my life. I don’t suppose anyone ever before was recommended for a post by a Protestant divinity professor, a notoriously violent political agitator, a Roman Catholic priest, and a—well, we won’t describe my brother. How do you come to be mixed up with all these people? Who are you?’
‘I am the son of Æneas Conneally, Rector of Carrowkeel, who died last Christmas.’
‘Well,’ said James Quinn, ‘I suppose if all these people are prepared to recommend you, your character must be all right. Now, tell me, do you know what the post is you are applying for?’
‘No,’ said Hyacinth. ‘And I may as well say that I have had no experience or business training whatever.’