“Shure, sir, you flatter me. You must have kissed the blarney stone, I’m a thinkin’!”
“No, ma’am, I haven’t; but I hope I know enough to be polite to a lady. You don’t seem like a stranger to me, for you are the image of a lady I used to know on the other side of the water, the Countess of Galway.”
Mrs. O’Connor smiled and simpered, for she had never before been compared to a countess.
“And can I do any more for you, sir?” she said.
“No, thank you. You have given me all the information I require. Good day!”
As Barclay walked away, Mrs. O’Connor followed him with her eyes.
“He isn’t dressed very nice,” she said to herself, “but in his manners he’s a perfect gintleman. I’d like to see that Countess of Galway, that I look so much like.”