Volume I Part 70 (2/2)
”Is that one of Earl Dougla.s.s's sayings,” said the doctor.
”Yes, Sir,” said Fleda with quivering lips, ”but not the one you know ? an older man.”
”Ah!” said the doctor, intelligently, ”Mr. Rossitur ? speaking of hands ? I have employed the Irish very much of late years ?
they are as good as one can have, if you do not want a head.”
”That is to say ? if you have a head,” said Thorn.
”Exactly!” said the doctor, all abroad ? ”and when there are not too many of them together. I had enough of that, Sir, some years ago, when a mult.i.tude of them were employed on the public works. The Irish were in a state of mutilation, Sir, all through the country.”
”Ah!” said Thorn, ”had the military been at work upon them?”
”No, Sir, but I wish they had, I am sure; it would have been for the peace of the town. There were hundreds of them. We were in want of an army.”
”Of surgeons, I should think,” said Thorn.
Fleda saw the doctor's dubious air and her uncle's compressed lips; and, commanding herself, with even a look of something like displeasure, she quitted her seat by Mr. Thorn, and called the doctor to the window to look at a cl.u.s.ter of rose acacias just then in their glory. He admired, and she expatiated, till she hoped everybody but herself had forgotten what they had been talking about. But they had no sooner returned to their seats than Thorn began again.
”The Irish in your town are not in the same mutilated state now, I suppose, Sir?”
”No, Sir, no,” said the doctor: ”there are much fewer of them to break each other's bones. It was all among themselves, Sir.”
”The country is full of foreigners,” said Mr. Rossitur, with praiseworthy gravity.
”Yes, Sir,” said Dr. Quackenboss, thoughtfully, ”we shall have none of our ancestors left in a short time, if they go on as they are doing.”
Fleda was beaten from the field, and, rus.h.i.+ng into the breakfast-room, astonished Hugh by seizing hold of him and indulging in a most prolonged and unbounded laugh. She did not show herself again till the company came in to supper; but then she was found as grave as Minerva. She devoted herself particularly to the care and entertainment of Dr. Quackenboss till he took leave; nor could Thorn get another chance to talk to her through all the evening.
When he and Rossitur were at last in their rooms, Fleda told her story.
”You don't know how pleasant it was, aunt Lucy ? how much I enjoyed it ? seeing and talking to somebody again. Mrs. Evelyn was so very kind.”
”I a very glad, my darling,” said Mrs. Rossitur, stroking away the hair from the forehead that was bent down towards her ? ”I am glad you had it to-day, and I am glad you will have it again to-morrow.”
”You will have it too, aunt Lucy. Mrs. Evelyn will be here in the morning ? she said so.”
”I shall not see her.”
”Why? Now, aunt Lucy! ? you will.”
”I have nothing in the world to see her in ? I cannot.”
”You have this?”
”For the morning? A rich French silk? ? It would be absurd.
No, no ? it would be better to wear my old merino than that.”
”But you will have to dress in the morning for Mr. Thorn? ? he will be here to breakfast.”
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