Handy Andy Volume I Part 37

When in the gale Poor Hope's white sail No haven can for shelter win, Fate's darkest skies The heart defies Whose still small voice is sweet within O, heavenly sound, 'Mid the tempests round, That voice so sweet within!

Egan had entered as f.a.n.n.y was singing the second verse; he wore a troubled air, which his wife at first did not remark. "Is not that a sweet song, Edward?" said she. "No one ought to like it more than you, for your home is your happiness, and no one has a clearer conscience."

Egan kissed her gently, and thanked her for her good opinion, and asked her what she wished to say to him. They left the room.

f.a.n.n.y remarked Egan's unusually troubled air, and it marred her music; leaving the piano, and walking to the window, she saw Larry Hogan walking from the house, down the avenue.

CHAPTER XV

If the morning brought uneasiness and distrust to Merryvale, it dawned not more brightly on Neck-or-Nothing Hall. The discord of the former night was not preparatory to harmony on the morrow, and the parties separating in ill-humour from the drawing-room were not likely to look forward with much pleasure to the breakfast-parlour. But before breakfast sleep was to intervene--that is, for those who could get it--and the unfortunate Furlong was not amongst the number. Despite the very best feather bed Mrs. O'Grady had selected for him from amongst her treasures, it was long before slumber weighed down his feverish eyelids; and even then, it was only to have them opened again in some convulsive start of a troubled dream. All his adventures of the last four-and-twenty hours were jumbled together in strange confusion--now on a lonely road, while dreading the a.s.saults of robbers, his course was interrupted not by a highwayman, but a river, whereon embarking, he began to catch salmon in a most surprisingly rapid manner, but just as he was about to haul in his fish it escaped from the hook, and the salmon, making wry faces at him, very impertinently exclaimed, "Sure, you wouldn't catch a poor, ignorant, Irish salmon?" He then snapped his pistols at the insolent fish--then his carriage breaks down, and he is suddenly transferred from the river to the road; thieves seize upon him and bind his hands, but a charming young lady with pearly teeth frees him from his bonds, and conducts him to a castle where a party is engaged in playing cards; he is invited to join, and as his cards are dealt to him he antic.i.p.ates triumph in the game, but by some malicious fortune his trumps are transformed into things of no value, as they touch the board; he loses his money, and is kicked out when his purse has been emptied, and he escapes along a dark road pursued by his spoilers, who would take his life, and a horrid cry of "broiled bones," rings in his ears as he flies; he is seized and thrown into a river, where, as he sinks, shoals of salmon raise a chorus of rejoicing, and he wakes out of the agonies of dream-drowning to find himself nearly suffocated by sinking into the feathery depths of Mrs. O'Grady's pet bed. After a night pa.s.sed in such troubled visions the unfortunate Furlong awoke unrefreshed, and, with bitter recollections of the past and mournful antic.i.p.ations of the future, arose and prepared to descend to the parlour, where a servant told him breakfast was ready.

His morning greeting by the family was not of that hearty and cheerful character which generally distinguishes the house of an Irish squire; for though O'Grady was not so savage as on the preceding evening, he was rather gruff, and the ladies dreaded being agreeable when the master's temper blew from a stormy point. Furlong could not help regretting at this moment the lively breakfast-table at Merryvale, nor avoid contrasting to disadvantage the two Miss O'Gradys with f.a.n.n.y Dawson. Augusta, the eldest, inherited the prominent nose of her father, and something of his upper lip too, beard included; and these, unfortunately, were all she was ever likely to inherit from him; and Charlotte, the younger, had the same traits in a moderated degree.

Altogether, he thought the girls the plainest he had ever seen, and the house more horrible than anything that was ever imagined; and he sighed a faint fas.h.i.+onable sigh, to think his political duties had expelled him from a paradise to send him

"The other way--the other way!"

Four boys and a little girl sat at a side-table, where a capacious jug of milk, large bowls, and a l.u.s.ty loaf were laid under contribution amidst a suppressed but continuous wrangle, which was going forward amongst the juniors; and a snappish "I will" or "I won't," a "Let me alone" or a "Behave yourself," occasionally was distinguishable above the murmur of dissatisfaction. A little squall from the little girl at last made O'Grady turn round and swear that, if they did not _behave_ themselves, he'd turn them all out.

"It is all Goggy, sir," said the girl.

"No, it's not, you dirty little thing," cried George, whose name was thus euphoniously abbreviated.

"He's putting----" said the girl, with excitement.

"Ah, you dirty little----" interrupted Goggy, in a low, contemptuous tone.

"He's putting, sir----"

"Whisht! you young devils, will you?" cried O'Grady, and a momentary silence prevailed; but the little girl snivelled and put up her bib[14]

to wipe her eyes, while Goggy put out his tongue at her. Many minutes had not elapsed when the girl again whimpered--

[14] Pinafore.

"Call to Goggy, papa; he's putting some mouse's tails into my milk, sir."

"Ah, you dirty little tell-tale!" cried Goggy, reproachfully; "a tell-tale is worse than a mouse's tail."

O'Grady jumped up, gave Master Goggy a box on the ear, and then caught him by the aforesaid appendage to his head, and as he led him to the door by the same, Goggy bellowed l.u.s.tily, and when ejected from the room howled down the pa.s.sage more like a dog than a human being. O'Grady, on resuming his seat, told Polshee[15] (the little girl) she was always getting Goggy a beating, and she _was_ a little cantankerous cat and a dirty tell-tale, as Goggy said. Amongst the ladies and Furlong the breakfast went forward with coldness and constraint, and all were glad when it was nearly over. At this period, Mrs. O'Grady half filled a large bowl from the tea-urn, and then added to it some weak tea, and Miss O'Grady collected all the broken bread about the table on a plate.

Just then Furlong ventured to "twouble" Mrs. O'Grady for a _leetle_ more tea, and before he handed her his cup he would have emptied the sediment in the slop-basin, but by mistake he popped it into the large bowl of _miserable_ Mrs. O'Grady had prepared. Furlong begged a thousand pardons, but Mrs. O'Grady a.s.sured him it was of no consequence, _as it was only for the tutor_!

[15] Mary.

O'Grady, having swallowed his breakfast as fast as possible, left the room; the whole party soon followed, and on arriving in the drawing-room, the young ladies became more agreeable when no longer under the constraint of their ogre father. Furlong talked slip-slop common-places with them; they spoke of the country and the weather, and he of the city; they a.s.sured him that the dews were heavy in the evening, and that the gra.s.s was _so_ green in that part of the country; he obliged them with the interesting information, that the Liffy ran through Dublin, but that the two sides of the city communicated by means of bridges--that the houses were built of red brick generally, and that the hall-doors were painted in imitation of mahogany; to which the young ladies responded, "La, how odd!" and added, that in the country people mostly painted their hall-doors green, to match the gra.s.s. Furlong admitted the propriety of the proceeding, and said he liked uniformity.

The young ladies quite coincided in his opinion, declared they all were so fond of uniformity, and added that one of their carriage horses was blind. Furlong admitted the excellence of the observation, and said, in a very soft voice, that Love was blind also.

"Exactly," said Miss O'Grady, "and that's the reason we call our horse 'Cupid'!"

"How clever!" replied Furlong.

"And the mare that goes in harness with him--she's an ugly creature, to be sure, but we call her 'Venus.'"

"How dwoll!" said Furlong.

"That's for uniformity," said Miss O'Grady.

"How good!" was the rejoinder.

Mrs. O'Grady, who had left the room for a few minutes, now returned and told Furlong she would show him over the house if he pleased. He a.s.sented, of course, and under her guidance went through many apartments; those on the bas.e.m.e.nt story were hurried through rapidly, but when Mrs. O'Grady got him upstairs, amongst the bed-rooms, she dwelt on the excellence of every apartment. "This I need not show you, Mr.

Furlong--'t is your own; I hope you slept well last night?" This was the twentieth time the question had been asked. "Now, here is another, Mr.

Furlong; the window looks out on the lawn: so nice to look out on a lawn, I think, in the morning, when one gets up!--so refres.h.i.+ng and wholesome! Oh! you are looking at the stain in the ceiling, but we couldn't get the roof repaired in time before the winter set in last year; and Mr. O'Grady thought we might as well have the painters and slaters together in the summer--and the house does want paint, indeed, but we all hate the smell of paint. See here, Mr. Furlong," and she turned up a quilt as she spoke; "just put your hand into that bed; did you ever feel a finer bed?"

Furlong declared he never did.

"Oh, you don't know how to feel a bed!--put your hand into it--well, that way;" and Mrs. O'Grady plunged her arm up to the elbow into the object of her admiration. Furlong poked the bed, and was all laudation.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

"Cha'ming!" replied Furlong, trying to pick off the bits of down which clung to his coat.

"Oh, never mind the down--you shall be brushed after; I always show my beds, Mr. Furlong. Now, here's another;" and so she went on, dragging poor Furlong up and down the house, and he did not get out of her clutches till he had poked all the beds in the establishment. As soon as that ceremony was over, and that his coat had undergone the process of brus.h.i.+ng, he wished to take a stroll, and was going forth, when Mrs.

O'Grady interrupted him, with the a.s.surance that it would not be safe unless some one of the family became his escort, for the dogs were very fierce--Mr. O'Grady was _so_ fond of dogs, and _so_ proud of a particular breed of dogs he had, so remarkable for their courage--he had better wait till the boys had done their Latin lesson. So Furlong was marched back to the drawing-room.

There the younger daughter addressed him with a message from her grandmamma, who wished to have the pleasure of making his acquaintance, and hoped he would pay her a visit. Furlong, of course, was "quite delighted," and "too happy," and the young lady, thereupon, led him to the old lady's apartment.

The old dowager had been a beauty in her youth--one of the belles of the Irish court, and when she heard "a gentleman from Dublin Castle"

was in the house she desired to see him. To see any one from the seat of her juvenile joys and triumphs would have given her delight, were it only the coachman that had driven a carriage to a levee or drawing-room; she could ask him about the sentinels at the gate, the entrance-porch, and if the long range of windows yet glittered with lights on St.

Patrick's night; but to have a conversation with an official from that seat of government and courtly pleasure was, indeed, something to make her happy.

On Furlong being introduced, the old lady received him very courteously, at the same time with a certain air that betokened she was accustomed to deference. Her commanding figure was habited in a loose morning wrapper, made of grey flannel; but while this gave evidence she studied her personal comfort rather than appearance, a bit of pretty silk handkerchief about the neck, very knowingly displayed, and a becoming ribbon in her cap showed she did not quite neglect her good looks; it did not require a very quick eye to see, besides, a small touch of rouge on the cheek which age had depressed, and the a.s.sistance of Indian ink to the eyebrow which time had thinned and faded. A gla.s.s filled with flowers stood on the table before her, and a quant.i.ty of books lay scattered about; a guitar--not the Spanish instrument now in fas.h.i.+on, but the English one of some eighty years ago, strung with wire and tuned in thirds--hung by a _blue ribbon_ beside her; a corner cupboard, fantastically carved, bore some curious specimens of china on one side of the room; while, in strange discord with what was really scarce and beautiful, the commonest Dutch cuckoo-clock was suspended on the opposite wall; close beside her chair stood a very pretty little j.a.pan table, bearing a looking-gla.s.s with numerous drawers framed in the same material; and while Furlong seated himself, the old lady cast a sidelong glance at the mirror, and her withered fingers played with the fresh ribbon.

"You have recently arrived from the Castle, sir, I understand."

"Quite wecently, madam--awived last night."

"I hope his Excellency is well--not that I have the honour of his acquaintance, but I love the Lord Lieutenant--and the aides-de-camps are so nice, and the little pages!--put a marker in that book," said she, in an under-tone, to her granddaughter, "page seventy-four--ah,"

she resumed in a higher tone, "that reminds me of the Honourable Captain Wriggle, who commanded a seventy-four, and danced with me at the Castle the evening Lady Legge sprained her ankle. By-the-bye, are there any seventy-fours in Dublin now?"

"I wather think," said Furlong, "the bay is not sufficiently deep for line-of-battle s.h.i.+ps."

"Oh dear, yes! I have seen quant.i.ties of seventy-fours there; though, indeed, I am not quite sure if it wasn't at _Splithead_. Give me the smelling salts, Charlotte, love; mine does ache indeed! How subject the dear d.u.c.h.ess of Rutland was to headaches; you did not know the d.u.c.h.ess of Rutland?--no, to be sure, what am I thinking of? you're too young; but those were the charming days! You have heard, of course, the d.u.c.h.ess's _bon mot_ in reply to the compliment of Lord ----, but I must not mention his name, because there was some scandal about them; but the gentleman said to the d.u.c.h.ess--I must tell you she was Isabella, d.u.c.h.ess of Rutland--and he said, 'Isabelle _is_ a _belle_,' to which the d.u.c.h.ess replied, 'Isabelle _was_ a _belle_.'"

"Vewy neat, indeed!" said Furlong.

"Ah! poor thing," said the dowager, with a sigh, "she was beginning to be a little _pa.s.see_ then;" she looked in the gla.s.s herself, and added, "Dear me, how pale I am this morning!" and pulling out one of the little drawers from the j.a.pan looking-gla.s.s, she took out a pot of rouge and heightened the colour on her cheek. The old lady not only heightened her own colour, but that of the witnesses--of Furlong particularly, who was _quite_ surprised. "Why am I so very pale this morning, Charlotte love?"

continued the old lady.