“But I must thank you, Lady O’Hara.”
“No, you needn’t. Now then, Dominic—dear, dear! three syllables to say every time I speak to you. What a tiresome, long name, though it does sound Irish.”
“Latin,” said Nic.
“Irish; and don’t contradict me, sir. Sure I had an uncle in Galway, who was Dominick O’Hara, with a k to it. I shall call you Nic.”
“Yes, do, please.”
“I will. So now then, Nic, you haven’t a husband to meet when you get over yonder—a fierce-looking governor, who barks at people; and when I get back he’ll be asking me what I forgot to bring. Now, my dear boy, do tell me what I’ve failed to get.”
“I can’t,” said Nic laughingly; “you seem to have bought nearly everything.”
“Ah, ye’re no use to me at all, at all, boy. I’m sure there’s something I ought to have bought, and I shall remember it when we’re hundreds of miles from land. I know: it was another pair of razors for Sir John!”
“But you bought those seven in a case, with the days of the week on them, Lady O’Hara.”
“Sure, and I did, Nic. Good boy. You are of some use, after all. My poor head’s nearly worn out with thinking, and I’m bothered entirely. Nic, I mean to go to sleep for a week as soon as we get on board by way of a good rest. Now then, do try and think for me, Nic; what was the other thing I forgot?”