"Faith, you'll be in too good condition presently. It depends on your sickness."
It was always necessary to beg St. Alleyne to explain: I did this forcibly, and he brought his head close to mine.
"I told you, I think," he said, "that in my opinion my cousin, Mrs. O'Callaghan, is mad?"
"You did."
"Well," he said, "she's not so mad, neither. She has some idea of true charity. Now Norah is a great hand with the sick; she has a way with her, as we say over here, and Mrs. O'Callaghan encourages her to visit them; it's all part of the convent scheme."
"I begin to see," I said; "I'm to be sick."
"And who," said he, "would you rather see in your suffering than an angel like Norah?"
"I'd rather see Lucy," I said.
"Well, well, you're a constant creature. I have a little place over here near Stromore, as you know; but you mustn't be ill there; you must go to the hotel." He paused and looked at me.
"Go on," I said.