To London therefore they proceeded. The incidents of the journey, sea-sickness included, which so astonished the new traveller, we pass over, as well as the numberless mistakes in the great metropolis, which afforded Dick plentiful amusement, though, in truth, Dick had better objects in view than laughing at Andy's embarrassments in his new position. He really wished to help him in the difficult path into which the new lord had been thrust, and did this in a merry sort of way more successfully than by serious drilling. It was hard to break Andy of the habit of saying “Misther Dick,” when addressing him, but, at last, “Misther Dawson” was established. Eating with his knife, drinking as loudly as a horse, and other like accomplishments, were not so easily got under, yet it was wonderful how much he improved, as his shyness grew less, and his consciousness of being a lord grew stronger.
But, if the good nature of Dick had not prompted him to take Andy into training, the newly discovered nobleman would not have long been in want of society. It was wonderful how many persons were eager to show civility to his lordship, and some amongst them even went so far as to discover relationship. Plenty were soon ready to take Lord Scatterbrain here, and escort him there, accompany him to exhibitions and other public places, and charmed all the time with his lordship's remarks—“they were so original”—“quite delightful to meet something so fresh”—“how remarkably clever the Irish were!” Such were among the observations his ignorant blunders produced; and he who, as Handy Andy, had been anathematised all his life as a “stupid rascal,” “a blundering thief,” “a thick-headed brute,” &c., under the title of Lord Scatterbrain all of a sudden was voted “vastly amusing—a little eccentric, perhaps, but so droll—in fact, so witty!” This was all very delightful for Andy—so delightful that he quite forgot Bridget rhua. But that lady did not leave him long in his happy obliviousness. One day, while Dick was absent, and Andy rocking on a chair before the fire, twirling the massive gold chain of his gold watch round his forefinger, and uncoiling it again, his repose was suddenly disturbed by the appearance of Bridget herself, accompanied by Shan More and a shrimp of a man in rusty black, who turned out to be a shabby attorney who advanced money to convey his lady client and her brother to London, for the purpose of making a dash at the lord at once, and securing a handsome sum by a coup de main.
Andy, though taken by surprise, was resolute. Bitter words were exchanged; and as they seemed likely to lead to blows, Andy prudently laid hold of the poker, and, in language not quite suited to a noble lord, swore he would see what the inside of Shan More's head was made of, if he attempted to advance upon him. Bridget screamed and scolded, while the attorney endeavoured to keep the peace, and, beyond everything, urged Lord Scatterbrain to enter at once into written engagements for a handsome settlement upon his “lady.”
“Lady!” exclaimed Andy; “oh!—a pretty lady she is!”
“I'm as good a lady as you are a lord, anyhow,” cried Bridget.
“Altercation will do no good, my lord and my lady,” said the attorney; “let me suggest the propriety of your writing an engagement at once;” and the little man pushed pen, ink, and paper towards Andy.
“I can't, I tell you!” cried Andy.
“You must!” roared Shan More.
“Bad luck to you, how can I when I never larned?”
“Your lordship can make your mark,” said the attorney.