Hycy, on entering the parlor, found him! seated in an arm-chair, smoking as usual, whilst his mother, who soon came down stairs, appeared dressed in more than her usual finery.
“What keeps Patsy Dolan wid the car?” she inquired. “Hycy, do you see any appearance of him?”
“No, ma'am,” replied the son; “I didn't know you wanted him.”
Jemmy looked at her with a good deal of surprise, and, after whiffing away the smoke, asked—“And well, Rosha—begs pardon—Mrs. Burke—is it a fair question to ax where you are bound for?”
“Fair enough, Mr. Burke,” she replied; “but I'm not goin' to answer it.”
“You're bound for a journey, ma'am, I think?”
“I'm bound for a journey, sir.”
“Is it a long journey, Mrs. Burke?”
“No, indeed; it's a short journey, Mister Burke.”
“Ah!” replied her husband, uttering a very significant groan; “I'm afraid it is.”