“Not until the next opportunity,” observed his brother, “when, you may take my word for it, he will be as ridiculously polite and impudent as ever.”
“Not a doubt of it,” said the father; “the rascal's incurable, and little did I imagine when I asked him once or twice to dine here that I was preparing such an infliction for poor Julia. Julia didn't he write to you?”
“I certainly had the honor of receiving a very elaborate love-letter from him,” replied Julia, laughing, “which I will show you some of these days; but, for my part, I think the fool is beneath resentment, and it is merely on that principle that I have treated him with good-humored contempt.”
“He is certainly as good as a farce,” said the father; “and if the rascal had kept from making love, I should have still been glad to have him here from time to time to amuse us.”
“How does he live at all?” asked Mrs. Purcel; “for, by all accounts, he has no fixed place of residence, nor any known means of support.”
“Faith, Nancy, that's a subject upon which we are all aiqually ignorant,” replied her husband; “but that the fellow lives, and can live comfortably—ay, and has plenty of money, there can be no earthly doubt. At the same time, that there is much talk about him, and a great deal of mystery too, is a sure case on the other hand. Well, never mind, Jack; I asked your old tutor, M'Carthy, to dine here to-day; he has come home to the country after having gained a scholarship, I believe they call it, in Trinity College.”
“I'm glad you did, father,” replied John, “and I'm much obliged to you. Yes, he has gained first place, and I knew he would.”
“He intends going to the bar, he tells me.”
“He will be heard from yet, or I renounce all claims to common sense,” replied the other. “There is, unquestionably, a brilliant career before him.”
“I would rather, in the meantime,” observed Mrs. Purcell, “that he had continued steadfast to his religion. They tell me that he has become a Protestant.”