“I am here to-day, my lord, in consequence of having received it. But, by the by, there was, under favor, a slight misconception on the part of your—”
“What misconception, sir!”
“Why, my lord—Counsellor, this is a—a—kind of charge his lordship is bringing against me, under a slight misconception. My lord, the fact is, that I didn't see what ecclesiastical right I had to prevent Denis here from disposing of his own property to—”
“I expect an apology from you, Mr. Finnerty, but neither a defence nor a justification. An attempt at either will not advance the interests of your young friend, believe me.”
“Then I have only to say that the wish expressed in your lordship's letter has been complied with. But wait awhile, my lord,” continued the priest, good-humoredly, “I shall soon turn the tables on yourself.”
“How is that, pray?”
“Why, my lord, the horse is in your stable, and Denis declares he will not take him out of it.”
“I have not the slightest objection to that,” replied the Bishop, “upon the express condition that his son shall never enter Maynooth.”
“For my part,” observed Mr. Finnerty, “I leave the matter now between your lordship and O'Shaughnessy himself. You may act as you please, Doctor, and so may he.”
“Mr. Finnerty, if I could suppose for a moment that the suggestion of thus influencing me originated with you, I would instantly deprive you of your parish, and make you assistant to your excellent curate, for whom I entertain a sincere regard. I have already expressed my opinion of the transaction alluded to in my letter. You have frequently offended me, Mr. Finnerty, by presuming too far upon my good temper, and by relying probably upon your own jocular disposition. Take care, sir, that you don't break down in some of your best jokes. I fear that under the guise of humor, you frequently avail yourself of the weakness, or ignorance, or simplicity of your parishioners. I hope, Mr. Finnerty, that while you laugh at the jest, they don't pay for it.”