The Colonel smiled at Mrs. O'Toole's logic. And not many minutes after the Doctor came in.
"Pulse very unsteady," said he, gravely and interrogatively to Kate, "any disturbing cause?"
"He has been disappointed about a letter, he hoped to receive."
"Ah, these letters are bad, very bad; he is not getting on as I could wish," added the doctor to Mrs. O'Toole, as she followed him to the hall door to receive his parting instructions, "could you not get up some pious fraud about this letter? invent one, eh?"
"Oh, God bless ye, docther, it's not possible, any ways, sure if it was I'm the woman would do it."
"Well, I suppose so; but, I tell you, I dread another bursting of a blood vessel, and then." The doctor paused, shook his head, drew on his glove, and departed in the teeth of a bitter March wind, and a cloud of dust.
"It seems a very cold, wretched day," said the Colonel, as Kate took up her work; "is poor Cormac never let into the house now?"
"Oh, yes, grandpapa, he generally lies outside the door, but I did not like to let him in for fear of disturbing you?"
"He would not disturb me, I wish to see him."