"You are welcome, my dear Sir Anthony."
"The train was over-punctual, sir, and I have been very well entertained while I waited."
"I daresay, I daresay. There are worse comrades than Mat. Many a pleasant day's shooting I had with Mat for companion. Eh, Mat, you don't forget the night in the Moyle river when our legs froze waiting for wild duck, and we thought we'd have to stay there till the hot weather set us free."
Mat grinned delightedly for response.
"The worst of Mat is he's a born poacher. Doesn't respect Inverbarry's preserves or anybody else's, and isn't to be frightened, though I tell him Inverbarry'll lock him up one of these days."
"Not wid your honour on the bench. But 'tisn't me that poaches. 'Tis the bit of a dog. You couldn't insinse respect for the law into that little baste's head wance he's put up a hare or a partridge."
"Well, good-bye, Mat, good-bye. Tell the old mother I was asking for her. How are you, Mrs. Kelly? What's the last news from Nora? The best, that's a good hearing. Come along, Sir Anthony. Don't drop any of the gentleman's things on your way, Pat."
Mr. Graydon bustled his new pupil out of the little station, and into the very disreputable pony car, with a blissful oblivion of its shortcomings.
"You won't mind coming to the village with me till I deliver my message? I was very near forgetting it. Then I'll have you home in less than no time. You'll be glad of a wash-up and a cup of tea."