“How many bottles does she drink of it?” asked Con, whose estimation of Lady Seagrave rose considerably at this graphic description of her favourite beverage.
“She doesn’t have more than a glass,” replied Patsy; “and she mixes it with Siltzer water.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s water that tastes as if it was full of pins and needles.”
Con mused for a moment on the strange habits of the high and mighty, whilst Patsy, who had changed his clothes, stood waiting for what was to follow. He had not long to wait.
“Come here,” said his uncle, “till I button your coat for you.”
“Sure, it is buttoned,” replied Patsy, who was none too eager to come within reach.
“Come here, till I button it proper, or it’s into the room I’ll be gettin’ to make your tylet for you,” said Con, putting one leg over the window-sill.
Now Con was the biggest coward on earth, and he had all sorts of strange ideas about the law. He would help in a burglary as long as he could do so safely; that is to say, he would urge another man on and give advice, and help to dispose of the plunder, but he was far too careful of his skin to enter a house or take an active part in the matter.
Even now, though he put his leg over the sill of the window, he would not have dared to enter the room, for that would have been housebreaking; but nothing could be done to a man for simply standing at a window and “colloguing” with his nephew. If Mrs Kinsella had appeared armed with a broom he would have run like a scared rabbit; but Patsy did not know this, Patsy took his uncle on his face value, and certainly Con’s face was of more value to him in affairs of this sort than his heart, for his face was the face of a formidable and villainous-looking rogue. Scaring old women and children, sucking eggs, stealing turnips, milking stray cows and trapping rabbits, that was his way of life. Yet he had the appearance of a brigand chief. There are many people in the world like Con.