“Sweet or not,” said the mother, “she has got to learn her lesson of life; and it is no good to be too tender with her; she wants a little bracing.”
“You have been trying that on—eh?”
“Well, not exactly, Pat; but you cannot expect me to keep all our troubles to ourselves. There's that mortgage, you know.”
“Bother the mortgage!” said the Squire. “Why do you harp on things the way you do? I'll manage it right enough. I am going round to see Dan Murphy now; he won't be hard on an old friend.”
“Yes; but have you not to pay up?”
“Some day, I suppose.”
“Now listen, Patrick. Do be reasonable. Whenever I speak of money you fight shy of the subject.”
“I don't—I don't,” said the Squire restlessly; “but I am dead tired. I have had a ride of thirty miles; I want my tea. Where is Nora? Do you mind my calling her? She'll order Pegeen to bring the tea here.”
“No; I won't have it. We'll have tea in the dining room presently. I thought you objected to afternoon tea.”
“So I do, as a rule; but I am mighty dhry—thirsty, I mean, Ellen. Well, all the better; I'll get more to drink in the dining room. Order the tea as soon as you please.”