Dermot entered in his usual fearless manner, carrying his basket of fish. The portrait was produced, and another lady insisted that he should remain until she had taken a sketch of him for herself.
“By-the-bye,” said the Earl, “have you got any good by going to the minister, boy?”
“Yes, indeed I have, sir,” said Dermot warmly, “there is many a book I have learned to read, and though I found writing more hard, I am able to copy whatever Mr Jamieson gives me, and while he reads I can write after him. And there is history and geography and many more things he has taught me.”
“Ah, I must go over and thank him,” said the Earl. “And do you wish, boy, to continue under his instruction?”
“Indeed I do, sir,” answered Dermot.
“Oh, but we were teaching you,” exclaimed Lady Nora, who had just then come into the hall. “You must come and let Lady Sophy and me give you lessons as we did before.”
“Indeed I am honoured, ladies,” answered Dermot, with an air which none but an Irish boy, even of much higher rank, could have assumed. “Although I am grateful to the minister for all he has taught me, I should be thankful to receive further lessons from you.”
The Earl was somewhat amused at the thoughts of his little daughter giving instruction to the young fisher-boy. At the same time, good-natured and thoughtless, he made not the slightest objection. Indeed he never thwarted Nora in anything she had taken it into her head to wish for, and certainly he was not likely to do so in a matter so trifling as this.
Dermot appeared, as he had been invited, to receive his lessons, but was somewhat surprised to find that Lady Nora was scarcely as advanced in some branches of knowledge as himself.
“Indeed you have made great progress,” said Lady Sophy, who had undertaken to be the chief instructress. “If you persevere you will soon become as well educated as most young gentlemen of the day. I am acquainted with several, indeed, who don’t know as much as you do.”