“Not at all,” responded Sir John. “I think”—unblushingly—“that Con needs a change; and it would be an excellent way to give him one, if you would only be kind enough to help me. You surely wouldn’t refuse poor Con such a little thing!”
“I’ve re-cast a good many of my ideas about Ireland,” David Linton said. “But to utilize five people to take one chauffeur for a change is certainly what I was brought up to call an Irish way of doing things! Seriously, however, O’Neill, your proposal is a very tempting one. Shall we put it to the committee?”
“The committee says, ‘Carried nem. con.’ I should say,” said Jim. “It would be simply top-hole. But isn’t it putting rather a strain on you and the motor?”
“Certainly not—as far as I am concerned, a run in sea-air is all I need to make me quite fit again,” O’Neill answered. “What do you say about it, Norah?”
“I’m speechless; and as for Wally, he’s leaning up against the ass for support,” said Norah, indicating Mr. Meadows, who grasped the hapless donkey fondly. “It’s the most glorious plan, Sir John; and it’s just like you, to think of it.”
O’Neill’s delicate face flushed with pleasure.
“You’re all such satisfactory people, because you’re never bored,” he said. “And then, you like Ireland, which makes everything delightful. Well, I thought we might have a look at Horn Head and Sheep Haven, Mr. Linton, and perhaps get across to The Rosses; or would you rather have no fixed plan, but just wander about, seeking what we may find? There are innumerable little bays and inlets up there, all rather fascinating; we should be between mountain and sea scenery, and the inns here and there are fairly good.”
“I think we will leave it entirely to you, so far as planning the route goes,” Mr. Linton answered. “You know the country, and we don’t; and as for us, any part of Ireland is good.”
“I vote for having no fixed plan at all,” Jim said. “It’s when you have no plans that the best things happen to you!”
“We’ll leave it at that, then,” said Sir John. “Can we start to-morrow?”