Campbell: “Well, I’m glad the McIlhenys had too much sense to believe that. They’re happy, anyway. They’re enjoying the hobble that you and Agnes are in, with lofty compassion. They—hello! here’s that fellow coming back again!”
Roberts: “Who? Which? Where?” He starts nervously about, and confronts Mr. McIlheny bearing down upon him with a countenance of provisional severity.
McIlheny: “Just wan word more wid you, sor. Mrs. McIlheny has been thinkun’ it oover, and she says you didn’t ask her if she was after seeun a cuke, but whether she was after beun’ a cuke? Now, sor, which wahs ut? Out wfd ut! Don’t be thinkun’ ye can throw dust in our eyes because we’re Irishmen!” A threatening tone prevails in Mr. McIlheny’s address at the mounting confusion and hesitation in Roberts. “Come! are ye deef, mahn?”
Roberts, in spite of Campbell’s dumb-show inciting him to fiction: “I—I—if you will kindly step apart here, I can explain. I was very confused when I spoke to Mrs. McIlheny.”
McIlheny, following him and Willis into the corner: “Fwhat made ye take my wife for a cuke? Did she luke anny more like a cuke than yer own wife? Her family is the best in County Mayo. Her father kept six cows, and she never put her hands in wather. And ye come up to her in a public place like this, where ye’re afraid to spake aboove yer own breath, and ask her if she’s after beun’ the cuke yer wife’s engaged. Fwhat do ye mane by ut?”
Roberts: “My dear sir, I know—I can understand how it seems offensive; but I can assure you that I had no intention—no—no—” he falters, with an imploring glance at Campbell, who takes the word.
Campbell: “Look here, Mr. McIlheny, you can appreciate the feelings of a gentleman situated as my friend was here. He had to meet a lady whom he had never seen before, and didn’t know by sight; and we decided—Mrs. McIlheny was so pleasant and kindly looking—that he should go and ask her if she had seen a lady of the description he was looking for, and—”
McIlheny: “Yessor! I can appreciate ahl that. But fwhy did he ask her if she was the lady? Fwhy did he ask her if she was a cuke? That’s what I wannt to know!”
Campbell: “Well, now, I’m sure you can understand that. He was naturally a good deal embarrassed at having to address a strange lady; his mind was full of his wife’s cook, and instead of asking her if she’d seen a cook, he bungled and he blundered, and asked her—I suppose—if she was a cook. Can’t you see that? how it would happen?”
McIlheny, with conviction: “Yessor, I can. And I’ll feel it an hannor if you gintlemen will join me in a glass of wine on the carner, across the way—”