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diff --git a/3616-0.txt b/3616-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fadf030 --- /dev/null +++ b/3616-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1241 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The O'Conors of Castle Conor, by Anthony +Trollope + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + + + + +Title: The O'Conors of Castle Conor + + +Author: Anthony Trollope + + + +Release Date: January 16, 2015 [eBook #3616] +[This file was first posted on June 15, 2001] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE O'CONORS OF CASTLE CONOR*** + + +Transcribed from the 1864 Chapman & Hall “Tales of All Countries” edition +by David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + THE O’CONORS OF CASTLE CONOR, COUNTY MAYO. + + +I SHALL never forget my first introduction to country life in Ireland, my +first day’s hunting there, or the manner in which I passed the evening +afterwards. Nor shall I ever cease to be grateful for the hospitality +which I received from the O’Conors of Castle Conor. My acquaintance with +the family was first made in the following manner. But before I begin my +story, let me inform my reader that my name is Archibald Green. + +I had been for a fortnight in Dublin, and was about to proceed into +county Mayo on business which would occupy me there for some weeks. My +head-quarters would, I found, be at the town of Ballyglass; and I soon +learned that Ballyglass was not a place in which I should find hotel +accommodation of a luxurious kind, or much congenial society indigenous +to the place itself. + +“But you are a hunting man, you say,” said old Sir P— C—; “and in that +case you will soon know Tom O’Conor. Tom won’t let you be dull. I’d +write you a letter to Tom, only he’ll certainly make you out without my +taking the trouble.” + +I did think at the time that the old baronet might have written the +letter for me, as he had been a friend of my father’s in former days; but +he did not, and I started for Ballyglass with no other introduction to +any one in the county than that contained in Sir P—’s promise that I +should soon know Mr. Thomas O’Conor. + +I had already provided myself with a horse, groom, saddle and bridle, and +these I sent down, en avant, that the Ballyglassians might know that I +was somebody. Perhaps, before I arrived Tom O’Conor might learn that a +hunting man was coming into the neighbourhood, and I might find at the +inn a polite note intimating that a bed was at my service at Castle +Conor. I had heard so much of the free hospitality of the Irish gentry +as to imagine that such a thing might be possible. + +But I found nothing of the kind. Hunting gentlemen in those days were +very common in county Mayo, and one horse was no great evidence of a +man’s standing in the world. Men there as I learnt afterwards, are +sought for themselves quite as much as they are elsewhere; and though my +groom’s top-boots were neat, and my horse a very tidy animal, my entry +into Ballyglass created no sensation whatever. + +In about four days after my arrival, when I was already infinitely +disgusted with the little Pot-house in which I was forced to stay, and +had made up my mind that the people in county Mayo were a churlish set, I +sent my horse on to a meet of the fox-hounds, and followed after myself +on an open car. + +No one but an erratic fox-hunter such as I am,—a fox-hunter, I mean, +whose lot it has been to wander about from one pack of hounds to +another,—can understand the melancholy feeling which a man has when he +first intrudes himself, unknown by any one, among an entirely new set of +sportsmen. When a stranger falls thus as it were out of the moon into a +hunt, it is impossible that men should not stare at him and ask who he +is. And it is so disagreeable to be stared at, and to have such +questions asked! This feeling does not come upon a man in Leicestershire +or Gloucestershire where the numbers are large, and a stranger or two +will always be overlooked, but in small hunting fields it is so painful +that a man has to pluck up much courage before he encounters it. + +We met on the morning in question at Bingham’s Grove. There were not +above twelve or fifteen men out, all of whom, or nearly all were cousins +to each other. They seemed to be all Toms, and Pats, and Larrys, and +Micks. I was done up very knowingly in pink, and thought that I looked +quite the thing, but for two or three hours nobody noticed me. + +I had my eyes about me, however, and soon found out which of them was Tom +O’Conor. He was a fine-looking fellow, thin and tall, but not largely +made, with a piercing gray eye, and a beautiful voice for speaking to a +hound. He had two sons there also, short, slight fellows, but exquisite +horsemen. I already felt that I had a kind of acquaintance with the +father, but I hardly knew on what ground to put in my claim. + +We had no sport early in the morning. It was a cold bleak February day, +with occasional storms of sleet. We rode from cover to cover, but all in +vain. “I am sorry, sir, that we are to have such a bad day, as you are a +stranger here,” said one gentleman to me. This was Jack O’Conor, Tom’s +eldest son, my bosom friend for many a year after. Poor Jack! I fear +that the Encumbered Estates Court sent him altogether adrift upon the +world. + +“We may still have a run from Poulnaroe, if the gentleman chooses to come +on,” said a voice coming from behind with a sharp trot. It was Tom +O’Conor. + +“Wherever the hounds go, I’ll follow,” said I. + +“Then come on to Poulnaroe,” said Mr. O’Conor. I trotted on quickly by +his side, and before we reached the cover had managed to slip in +something about Sir P. C. + +“What the deuce!” said he. “What! a friend of Sir P—’s? Why the deuce +didn’t you tell me so? What are you doing down here? Where are you +staying?” &c. &c. &c. + +At Poulnaroe we found a fox, but before we did so Mr. O’ Conor had asked +me over to Castle Conor. And this he did in such a way that there was no +possibility of refusing him—or, I should rather say, of disobeying him. +For his invitation came quite in the tone of a command. + +“You’ll come to us of course when the day is over—and let me see; we’re +near Ballyglass now, but the run will be right away in our direction. +Just send word for them to send your things to Castle Conor.” + +“But they’re all about, and unpacked,” said I. + +“Never mind. Write a note and say what you want now, and go and get the +rest to-morrow yourself. Here, Patsey!—Patsey! run into Ballyglass for +this gentleman at once. Now don’t be long, for the chances are we shall +find here.” And then, after giving some further hurried instructions he +left me to write a line in pencil to the innkeeper’s wife on the back of +a ditch. + +This I accordingly did. “Send my small portmanteau,” I said, “and all my +black dress clothes, and shirts, and socks, and all that, and above all +my dressing things which are on the little table, and the satin +neck-handkerchief, and whatever you do, mind you send my _pumps_;” and I +underscored the latter word; for Jack O’Conor, when his father left me, +went on pressing the invitation. “My sisters are going to get up a +dance,” said he; “and if you are fond of that kind of things perhaps we +can amuse you.” Now in those days I was very fond of dancing—and very +fond of young ladies too, and therefore glad enough to learn that Tom +O’Conor had daughters as well as sons. On this account I was very +particular in underscoring the word pumps. + +“And hurry, you young divil,” Jack O’Conor said to Patsey. + +“I have told him to take the portmanteau over on a car,” said I. + +“All right; then you’ll find it there on our arrival.” + +We had an excellent run, in which I may make bold to say that I did not +acquit myself badly. I stuck very close to the hounds, as did the whole +of the O’Conor brood; and when the fellow contrived to earth himself, as +he did, I received those compliments on my horse, which is the most +approved praise which one fox-hunter ever gives to another. + +“We’ll buy that fellow of you before we let you go,” said Peter, the +youngest son. + +“I advise you to look sharp after your money if you sell him to my +brother,” said Jack. + +And then we trotted slowly off to Castle Conor, which, however, was by no +means near to us. “We have ten miles to go;—good Irish miles,” said the +father. “I don’t know that I ever remember a fox from Poulnaroe taking +that line before.” + +“He wasn’t a Poulnaroe fox,” said Peter. + +“I don’t know that;” said Jack; and then they debated that question +hotly. + +Our horses were very tired, and it was late before we reached Mr. +O’Conor’s house. That getting home from hunting with a thoroughly weary +animal, who has no longer sympathy or example to carry him on, is very +tedious work. In the present instance I had company with me; but when a +man is alone, when his horse toes at every ten steps, when the night is +dark and the rain pouring, and there are yet eight miles of road to be +conquered,—at such time a man is almost apt to swear that he will give up +hunting. + +At last we were in the Castle Conor stable yard;—for we had approached +the house by some back way; and as we entered the house by a door leading +through a wilderness of back passages, Mr. O’Conor said out loud, “Now, +boys, remember I sit down to dinner in twenty minutes.” And then turning +expressly to me, he laid his hand kindly upon my shoulder and said, “I +hope you will make yourself quite at home at Castle Conor, and whatever +you do, don’t keep us waiting for dinner. You can dress in twenty +minutes, I suppose?” + +“In ten!” said I, glibly. + +“That’s well. Jack and Peter will show you your room,” and so he turned +away and left us. + +My two young friends made their way into the great hall, and thence into +the drawing-room, and I followed them. We were all dressed in pink, and +had waded deep through bog and mud. I did not exactly know whither I was +being led in this guise, but I soon found myself in the presence of two +young ladies, and of a girl about thirteen years of age. + +“My sisters,” said Jack, introducing me very laconically; “Miss O’Conor, +Miss Kate O’Conor, Miss Tizzy O’Conor.” + +“My name is not Tizzy,” said the younger; “it’s Eliza. How do you do, +sir? I hope you had a fine hunt! Was papa well up, Jack?” + +Jack did not condescend to answer this question, but asked one of the +elder girls whether anything had come, and whether a room had been made +ready for me. + +“Oh yes!” said Miss O’Conor; “they came, I know, for I saw them brought +into the house; and I hope Mr. Green will find everything comfortable.” +As she said this I thought I saw a slight smile steal across her +remarkably pretty mouth. + +They were both exceedingly pretty girls. Fanny the elder wore long +glossy curls,—for I write, oh reader, of bygone days, as long ago as +that, when ladies wore curls if it pleased them so to do, and gentlemen +danced in pumps, with black handkerchiefs round their necks,—yes, long +black, or nearly black silken curls; and then she had such eyes;—I never +knew whether they were most wicked or most bright; and her face was all +dimples, and each dimple was laden with laughter and laden with love. +Kate was probably the prettier girl of the two, but on the whole not so +attractive. She was fairer than her sister, and wore her hair in braids; +and was also somewhat more demure in her manner. + +In spite of the special injunctions of Mr. O’Conor senior, it was +impossible not to loiter for five minutes over the drawing-room fire +talking to these houris—more especially as I seemed to know them +intimately by intuition before half of the five minutes was over. They +were so easy, so pretty, so graceful, so kind, they seemed to take it so +much as a matter of course that I should stand there talking in my red +coat and muddy boots. + +“Well; do go and dress yourselves,” at last said Fanny, pretending to +speak to her brothers but looking more especially a me. “You know how +mad papa will be. And remember Mr. Green, we expect great things from +your dancing to-night. Your coming just at this time is such a Godsend.” +And again that soupçon of a smile passed over her face. + +I hurried up to my room, Peter and Jack coming with me to the door. “Is +everything right?” said Peter, looking among the towels and water-jugs. +“They’ve given you a decent fire for a wonder,” said Jack, stirring up +the red hot turf which blazed in the grate. “All right as a trivet,” +said I. “And look alive like a good fellow,” said Jack. We had scowled +at each other in the morning as very young men do when they are +strangers; and now, after a few hours, we were intimate friends. + +I immediately turned to my work, and was gratified to find that all my +things were laid out ready for dressing; my portmanteau had of course +come open, as my keys were in my pocket, and therefore some of the +excellent servants of the house had been able to save me all the trouble +of unpacking. There was my shirt hanging before the fire; my black +clothes were spread upon the bed, my socks and collar and handkerchief +beside them; my brushes were on the toilet table, and everything prepared +exactly as though my own man had been there. How nice! + +I immediately went to work at getting off my spurs and boots, and then +proceeded to loosen the buttons at my knees. In doing this I sat down in +the arm-chair which had been drawn up for me, opposite the fire. But +what was the object on which my eyes then fell;—the objects I should +rather say! + +Immediately in front of my chair was placed, just ready for may feet, an +enormous pair of shooting-boots—half-boots made to lace up round the +ankles, with thick double leather soles, and each bearing half a stone of +iron in the shape of nails and heel-pieces. I had superintended the +making of these shoes in Burlington Arcade with the greatest diligence. +I was never a good shot; and, like some other sportsmen, intended to make +up for my deficiency in performance by the excellence of my shooting +apparel. “Those nails are not large enough,” I had said; “nor nearly +large enough.” But when the boots came home they struck even me as being +too heavy, too metalsome. “He, he, he,” laughed the boot boy as he +turned them up for me to look at. It may therefore be imagined of what +nature were the articles which were thus set out for the evening’s +dancing. + +And then the way in which they were placed! When I saw this the +conviction flew across my mind like a flash of lightning that the +preparation had been made under other eyes than those of the servant. +The heavy big boots were placed so prettily before the chair, and the +strings of each were made to dangle down at the sides, as though just +ready for tying! They seemed to say, the boots did, “Now, make haste. +We at any rate are ready—you cannot say that you were kept waiting for +us.” No mere servant’s hand had ever enabled a pair of boots to laugh at +one so completely. + +But what was I to do? I rushed at the small portmanteau, thinking that +my pumps also might be there. The woman surely could not have been such +a fool as to send me those tons of iron for my evening wear! But, alas, +alas! no pumps were there. There was nothing else in the way of covering +for my feet; not even a pair of slippers. + +And now what was I to do? The absolute magnitude of my misfortune only +loomed upon me by degrees. The twenty minutes allowed by that stern old +paterfamilias were already gone and I had done nothing towards dressing. +And indeed it was impossible that I should do anything that would be of +avail. I could not go down to dinner in my stocking feet, nor could I +put on my black dress trousers, over a pair of mud-painted top-boots. As +for those iron-soled horrors—; and then I gave one of them a kick with +the side of my bare foot which sent it half way under the bed. + +But what was I to do? I began washing myself and brushing my hair with +this horrid weight upon my mind. My first plan was to go to bed, and +send down word that I had been taken suddenly ill in the stomach; then to +rise early in the morning and get away unobserved. But by such a course +of action I should lose all chance of any further acquaintance with those +pretty girls! That they were already aware of the extent of my +predicament, and were now enjoying it—of that I was quite sure. + +What if I boldly put on the shooting-boots, and clattered down to dinner +in them? What if I took the bull by the horns, and made, myself, the +most of the joke? This might be very well for the dinner, but it would +be a bad joke for me when the hour for dancing came. And, alas! I felt +that I lacked the courage. It is not every man that can walk down to +dinner, in a strange house full of ladies, wearing such boots as those I +have described. + +Should I not attempt to borrow a pair? This, all the world will say, +should have been my first idea. But I have not yet mentioned that I am +myself a large-boned man, and that my feet are especially well developed. +I had never for a moment entertained a hope that I should find any one in +that house whose boot I could wear. But at last I rang the bell. I +would send for Jack, and if everything failed, I would communicate my +grief to him. + +I had to ring twice before anybody came. The servants, I well knew, were +putting the dinner on the table. At last a man entered the room, dressed +in rather shabby black, whom I afterwards learned to be the butler. + +“What is your name, my friend?” said I, determined to make an ally of the +man. + +“My name? Why Larry sure, yer honer. And the masther is out of his +sinses in a hurry, becase yer honer don’t come down.” + +“Is he though? Well now, Larry; tell me this; which of all the gentlemen +in the house has got the largest foot?” + +“Is it the largest foot, yer honer?” said Larry, altogether surprised by +my question. + +“Yes; the largest foot,” and then I proceeded to explain to him my +misfortune. He took up first my top-boot, and then the shooting-boot—in +looking at which he gazed with wonder at the nails;—and then he glanced +at my feet, measuring them with his eye; and after this he pronounced his +opinion. + +“Yer honer couldn’t wear a morsel of leather belonging to ere a one of +’em, young or ould. There niver was a foot like that yet among the +O’Conors.” + +“But are there no strangers staying here?” + +“There’s three or four on ’em come in to dinner; but they’ll be wanting +their own boots I’m thinking. And there’s young Misther Dillon; he’s +come to stay. But Lord love you—” and he again looked at the enormous +extent which lay between the heel and the toe of the shooting apparatus +which he still held in his hand. “I niver see such a foot as that in the +whole barony,” he said, “barring my own.” + +Now Larry was a large man, much larger altogether than myself, and as he +said this I looked down involuntarily at his feet; or rather at his foot, +for as he stood I could only see one. And then a sudden hope filled my +heart. On that foot there glittered a shoe—not indeed such as were my +own which were now resting ingloriously at Ballyglass while they were so +sorely needed at Castle Conor; but one which I could wear before ladies, +without shame—and in my present frame of mind with infinite contentment. + +“Let me look at that one of your own,” said I to the man, as though it +were merely a subject for experimental inquiry. Larry, accustomed to +obedience, took off the shoe and handed it to me. + +My own foot was immediately in it, and I found that it fitted me like a +glove. + +“And now the other,” said I—not smiling, for a smile would have put him +on his guard; but somewhat sternly, so that that habit of obedience +should not desert him at this perilous moment. And then I stretched out +my hand. + +“But yer honer can’t keep ’em, you know,” said he. “I haven’t the ghost +of another shoe to my feet.” But I only looked more sternly than before, +and still held out my hand. Custom prevailed. Larry stooped down +slowly, looking at me the while, and pulling off the other slipper handed +it to me with much hesitation. Alas! as I put it to my foot I found that +it was old, and worn, and irredeemably down at heel;—that it was in fact +no counterpart at all to that other one which was to do duty as its +fellow. But nevertheless I put my foot into it, and felt that a descent +to the drawing-room was now possible. + +“But yer honer will give ’em back to a poor man?” said Larry almost +crying. “The masther’s mad this minute becase the dinner’s not up. +Glory to God, only listhen to that!” And as he spoke a tremendous peal +rang out from some bell down stairs that had evidently been shaken by an +angry hand. + +“Larry,” said I—and I endeavoured to assume a look of very grave +importance as I spoke—“I look to you to assist me in this matter.” + +“Och—wirra sthrue then, and will you let me go? just listhen to that,” +and another angry peal rang out, loud and repeated. + +“If you do as I ask you,” I continued, “you shall be well rewarded. Look +here; look at these boots,” and I held up the shooting-shoes new from +Burlington Arcade. “They cost thirty shillings—thirty shillings! and I +will give them to you for the loan of this pair of slippers.” + +“They’d be no use at all to me, yer honer; not the laist use in life.” + +“You could do with them very well for to-night, and then you could sell +them. And here are ten shillings besides,” and I held out half a +sovereign which the poor fellow took into his hand. + +I waited no further parley but immediately walked out of the room. With +one foot I was sufficiently pleased. As regarded that I felt that I had +overcome my difficulty. But the other was not so satisfactory. Whenever +I attempted to lift it from the ground the horrid slipper would fall off, +or only just hang by the toe. As for dancing, that would be out of the +question. + +“Och, murther, murther,” sang out Larry, as he heard me going down +stairs. “What will I do at all? Tare and ’ounds; there, he’s at it +agin, as mad as blazes.” This last exclamation had reference to another +peal which was evidently the work of the master’s hand. + +I confess I was not quite comfortable as I walked down stairs. In the +first place I was nearly half an hour late, and I knew from the vigour of +the peals that had sounded that my slowness had already been made the +subject of strong remarks. And then my left shoe went flop, flop, on +every alternate step of the stairs. By no exertion of my foot in the +drawing up of my toe could I induce it to remain permanently fixed upon +my foot. But over and above and worse than all this was the conviction +strong upon my mind that I should become a subject of merriment to the +girls as soon as I entered the room. They would understand the cause of +my distress, and probably at this moment were expecting to hear me +clatter through the stone hall with those odious metal boots. + +However, I hurried down and entered the drawing-room, determined to keep +my position near the door, so that I might have as little as possible to +do on entering and as little as possible in going out. But I had other +difficulties in store for me. I had not as yet been introduced to Mrs. +O’Conor; nor to Miss O’Conor, the squire’s unmarried sister. + +“Upon my word I thought you were never coming,” said Mr. O’Conor as soon +as he saw me. “It is just one hour since we entered the house. Jack, I +wish you would find out what has come to that fellow Larry,” and again he +rang the bell. He was too angry, or it might be too impatient to go +through the ceremony of introducing me to anybody. + +I saw that the two girls looked at me very sharply, but I stood at the +back of an arm-chair so that no one could see my feet. But that little +imp Tizzy walked round deliberately, looked at my heels, and then walked +back again. It was clear that she was in the secret. + +There were eight or ten people in the room, but I was too much fluttered +to notice well who they were. + +“Mamma,” said Miss O’Conor, “let me introduce Mr. Green to you.” + +It luckily happened that Mrs. O’Conor was on the same side of the fire as +myself, and I was able to take the hand which she offered me without +coming round into the middle of the circle. Mrs. O’Conor was a little +woman, apparently not of much importance in the world, but, if one might +judge from first appearance, very good-natured. + +“And my aunt Die, Mr. Green,” said Kate, pointing to a very +straight-backed, grim-looking lady, who occupied a corner of a sofa, on +the opposite side of the hearth. I knew that politeness required that I +should walk across the room and make acquaintance with her. But under +the existing circumstances how was I to obey the dictates of politeness? +I was determined therefore to stand my ground, and merely bowed across +the room at Miss O’Conor. In so doing I made an enemy who never deserted +me during the whole of my intercourse with the family. But for her, who +knows who might have been sitting opposite to me as I now write? + +“Upon my word, Mr. Green, the ladies will expect much from an Adonis who +takes so long over his toilet,” said Tom O’Conor in that cruel tone of +banter which he knew so well how to use. + +“You forget, father, that men in London can’t jump in and out of their +clothes as quick as we wild Irishmen,” said Jack. + +“Mr. Green knows that we expect a great deal from him this evening. I +hope you polk well, Mr. Green,” said Kate. + +I muttered something about never dancing, but I knew that that which I +said was inaudible. + +“I don’t think Mr. Green will dance,” said Tizzy; “at least not much.” +The impudence of that child was, I think, unparalleled by any that I have +ever witnessed. + +“But in the name of all that’s holy, why don’t we have dinner?” And Mr. +O’Conor thundered at the door. “Larry, Larry, Larry!” he screamed. + +“Yes, yer honer, it’ll be all right in two seconds,” answered Larry, from +some bottomless abyss. “Tare an’ ages; what’ll I do at all,” I heard him +continuing, as he made his way into the hall. Oh what a clatter he made +upon the pavement,—for it was all stone! And how the drops of +perspiration stood upon my brow as I listened to him! + +And then there was a pause, for the man had gone into the dining-room. I +could see now that Mr. O’Conor was becoming very angry, and Jack the +eldest son—oh, how often he and I have laughed over all this since—left +the drawing-room for the second time. Immediately afterwards Larry’s +footsteps were again heard, hurrying across the hall, and then there was +a great slither, and an exclamation, and the noise of a fall—and I could +plainly hear poor Larry’s head strike against the stone floor. + +“Ochone, ochone!” he cried at the top of his voice—“I’m murthered with +’em now intirely; and d— ’em for boots—St. Peter be good to me.” + +There was a general rush into the hall, and I was carried with the +stream. The poor fellow who had broken his head would be sure to tell +how I had robbed him of his shoes. The coachman was already helping him +up, and Peter good-naturedly lent a hand. + +“What on earth is the matter?” said Mr. O’Conor. + +“He must be tipsy,” whispered Miss O’Conor, the maiden sister. + +“I aint tipsy at all thin,” said Larry, getting up and rubbing the back +of his head, and sundry other parts of his body. “Tipsy indeed!” And +then he added when he was quite upright, “The dinner is sarved—at last.” + +And he bore it all without telling! “I’ll give that fellow a guinea +to-morrow morning,” said I to myself—“if it’s the last that I have in the +world.” + +I shall never forget the countenance of the Miss O’Conors as Larry +scrambled up cursing the unfortunate boots—“What on earth has he got on?” +said Mr. O’Conor. + +“Sorrow take ’em for shoes,” ejaculated Larry. But his spirit was good +and he said not a word to betray me. + +We all then went in to dinner how we best could. It was useless for us +to go back into the drawing-room, that each might seek his own partner. +Mr. O’Conor “the masther,” not caring much for the girls who were around +him, and being already half beside himself with the confusion and delay, +led the way by himself. I as a stranger should have given my arm to Mrs. +O’Conor; but as it was I took her eldest daughter instead, and contrived +to shuffle along into the dining-room without exciting much attention, +and when there I found myself happily placed between Kate and Fanny. + +“I never knew anything so awkward,” said Fanny; “I declare I can’t +conceive what has come to our old servant Larry. He’s generally the most +precise person in the world, and now he is nearly an hour late—and then +he tumbles down in the hall.” + +“I am afraid I am responsible for the delay,” said I. + +“But not for the tumble I suppose,” said Kate from the other side. I +felt that I blushed up to the eyes, but I did not dare to enter into +explanations. + +“Tom,” said Tizzy, addressing her father across the table, “I hope you +had a good run to-day.” It did seem odd to me that young lady should +call her father Tom, but such was the fact. + +“Well; pretty well,” said Mr. O’Conor. + +“And I hope you were up with the hounds.” + +“You may ask Mr. Green that. He at any rate was with them, and therefore +he can tell you.” + +“Oh, he wasn’t before you, I know. No Englishman could get before you;—I +am quite sure of that.” + +“Don’t you be impertinent, miss,” said Kate. “You can easily see, Mr. +Green, that papa spoils my sister Eliza.” + +“Do you hunt in top-boots, Mr. Green?” said Tizzy. + +To this I made no answer. She would have drawn me into a conversation +about my feet in half a minute, and the slightest allusion to the subject +threw me into a fit of perspiration. + +“Are you fond of hunting, Miss O’Conor?” asked I, blindly hurrying into +any other subject of conversation. + +Miss O’Conor owned that she was fond of hunting—just a little; only papa +would not allow it. When the hounds met anywhere within reach of Castle +Conor, she and Kate would ride out to look at them; and if papa was not +there that day,—an omission of rare occurrence,—they would ride a few +fields with the hounds. + +“But he lets Tizzy keep with them the whole day,” said she, whispering. + +“And has Tizzy a pony of her own?” + +“Oh yes, Tizzy has everything. She’s papa’s pet, you know.” + +“And whose pet are you?” I asked. + +“Oh—I am nobody’s pet, unless sometimes Jack makes a pet of me when he’s +in a good humour. Do you make pets of your sisters, Mr. Green?” + +“I have none. But if I had I should not make pets of them.” + +“Not of your own sisters?” + +“No. As for myself, I’d sooner make a pet of my friend’s sister; a great +deal.” + +“How very unnatural,” said Miss O’Conor, with the prettiest look of +surprise imaginable. + +“Not at all unnatural I think,” said I, looking tenderly and lovingly +into her face. Where does one find girls so pretty, so easy, so sweet, +so talkative as the Irish girls? And then with all their talking and all +their ease who ever hears of their misbehaving? They certainly love +flirting, as they also love dancing. But they flirt without mischief and +without malice. + +I had now quite forgotten my misfortune, and was beginning to think how +well I should like to have Fanny O’Conor for my wife. In this frame of +mind I was bending over towards her as a servant took away a plate from +the other side, when a sepulchral note sounded in my ear. It was like +the memento mori of the old Roman;—as though some one pointed in the +midst of my bliss to the sword hung over my head by a thread. It was the +voice of Larry, whispering in his agony just above my head— + +“They’s disthroying my poor feet intirely, intirely; so they is! I can’t +bear it much longer, yer honer.” I had committed murder like Macbeth; +and now my Banquo had come to disturb me at my feast. + +“What is it he says to you?” asked Fanny. + +“Oh nothing,” I answered, once more in my misery. + +“There seems to be some point of confidence between you and our Larry,” +she remarked. + +“Oh no,” said I, quite confused; “not at all.” + +“You need not be ashamed of it. Half the gentlemen in the county have +their confidences with Larry;—and some of the ladies too, I can tell you. +He was born in this house, and never lived anywhere else; and I am sure +he has a larger circle of acquaintance than any one else in it.” + +I could not recover my self-possession for the next ten minutes. +Whenever Larry was on our side of the table I was afraid he was coming to +me with another agonised whisper. When he was opposite, I could not but +watch him as he hobbled in his misery. It was evident that the boots +were too tight for him, and had they been made throughout of iron they +could not have been less capable of yielding to the feet. I pitied him +from the bottom of my heart. And I pitied myself also, wishing that I +was well in bed upstairs with some feigned malady, so that Larry might +have had his own again. + +And then for a moment I missed him from the room. He had doubtless gone +to relieve his tortured feet in the servants’ hall, and as he did so was +cursing my cruelty. But what mattered it? Let him curse. If he would +only stay away and do that, I would appease his wrath when we were alone +together with pecuniary satisfaction. + +But there was no such rest in store for me. “Larry, Larry,” shouted Mr. +O’Conor, “where on earth has the fellow gone to?” They were all cousins +at the table except myself, and Mr. O’Conor was not therefore restrained +by any feeling of ceremony. “There is something wrong with that fellow +to-day; what is it, Jack?” + +“Upon my word, sir, I don’t know,” said Jack. + +“I think he must be tipsy,” whispered Miss O’Conor, the maiden sister, +who always sat at her brother’s left hand. But a whisper though it was, +it was audible all down the table. + +“No, ma’am; it aint dhrink at all,” said the coachman. “It is his feet +as does it.” + +“His feet!” shouted Tom O’Conor. + +“Yes; I know it’s his feet,” said that horrid Tizzy. “He’s got on great +thick nailed shoes. It was that that made him tumble down in the hall.” + +I glanced at each side of me, and could see that there was a certain +consciousness expressed in the face of each of my two neighbours;—on +Kate’s mouth there was decidedly a smile, or rather, perhaps, the +slightest possible inclination that way; whereas on Fanny’s part I +thought I saw something like a rising sorrow at my distress. So at least +I flattered myself. + +“Send him back into the room immediately,” said Tom, who looked at me as +though he had some consciousness that I had introduced all this confusion +into his household. What should I do? Would it not be best for me to +make clean breast of it before them all? But alas! I lacked the +courage. + +The coachman went out, and we were left for five minutes without any +servant, and Mr. O’Conor the while became more and more savage. I +attempted to say a word to Fanny, but failed. Vox faucibus haesit. + +“I don’t think he has got any others,” said Tizzy—“at least none others +left.” + +On the whole I am glad I did not marry into the family, as I could not +have endured that girl to stay in my house as a sister-in-law. + +“Where the d— has that other fellow gone to?” said Tom. “Jack, do go out +and see what is the matter. If anybody is drunk send for me.” + +“Oh, there is nobody drunk,” said Tizzy. + +Jack went out, and the coachman returned; but what was done and said I +hardly remember. The whole room seemed to swim round and round, and as +far as I can recollect the company sat mute, neither eating nor drinking. +Presently Jack returned. + +“It’s all right,” said he. I always liked Jack. At the present moment +he just looked towards me and laughed slightly. + +“All right?” said Tom. “But is the fellow coming?” + +“We can do with Richard, I suppose,” said Jack. + +“No—I can’t do with Richard,” said the father. “And will know what it +all means. Where is that fellow Larry?” + +Larry had been standing just outside the door, and now he entered gently +as a mouse. No sound came from his footfall, nor was there in his face +that look of pain which it had worn for the last fifteen minutes. But he +was not the less abashed, frightened and unhappy. + +“What is all this about, Larry?” said his master, turning to him. “I +insist upon knowing.” + +“Och thin, Mr. Green, yer honer, I wouldn’t be afther telling agin yer +honer; indeed I wouldn’t thin, av’ the masther would only let me hould my +tongue.” And he looked across at me, deprecating my anger. + +“Mr. Green!” said Mr. O’Conor. + +“Yes, yer honer. It’s all along of his honer’s thick shoes;” and Larry, +stepping backwards towards the door, lifted them up from some corner, and +coming well forward, exposed them with the soles uppermost to the whole +table. + +“And that’s not all, yer honer; but they’ve squoze the very toes of me +into a jelly.” + +There was now a loud laugh, in which Jack and Peter and Fanny and Kate +and Tizzy all joined; as too did Mr. O’Conor—and I also myself after a +while. + +“Whose boots are they?” demanded Miss O’Conor senior, with her severest +tone and grimmest accent. + +“’Deed then and the divil may have them for me, Miss,” answered Larry. +“They war Mr. Green’s, but the likes of him won’t wear them agin afther +the likes of me—barring he wanted them very particular,” added he, +remembering his own pumps. + +I began muttering something, feeling that the time had come when I must +tell the tale. But Jack with great good nature, took up the story and +told it so well, that I hardly suffered in the telling. + +“And that’s it,” said Tom O’Conor, laughing till I thought he would have +fallen from his chair. “So you’ve got Larry’s shoes on—” + +“And very well he fills them,” said Jack. + +“And it’s his honer that’s welcome to ’em,” said Larry, grinning from ear +to ear now that he saw that “the masther” was once more in a good humour. + +“I hope they’ll be nice shoes for dancing,” said Kate. + +“Only there’s one down at the heel I know,” said Tizzy. + +“The servant’s shoes!” This was an exclamation made by the maiden lady, +and intended apparently only for her brother’s ear. But it was clearly +audible by all the party. + +“Better that than no dinner,” said Peter. + +“But what are you to do about the dancing?” said Fanny, with an air of +dismay on her face which flattered me with an idea that she did care +whether I danced or no. + +In the mean time Larry, now as happy as an emperor, was tripping round +the room without any shoes to encumber him as he withdrew the plates from +the table. + +“And it’s his honer that’s welcome to ’em,” said he again, as he pulled +off the table-cloth with a flourish. “And why wouldn’t he, and he able +to folly the hounds betther nor any Englishman that iver war in these +parts before,—anyways so Mick says!” + +Now Mick was the huntsman, and this little tale of eulogy from Larry went +far towards easing my grief. I had ridden well to the hounds that day, +and I knew it. + +There was nothing more said about the shoes, and I was soon again at my +ease, although Miss O’Conor did say something about the impropriety of +Larry walking about in his stocking feet. The ladies however soon +withdrew,—to my sorrow, for I was getting on swimmingly with Fanny; and +then we gentlemen gathered round the fire and filled our glasses. + +In about ten minutes a very light tap was heard, the door was opened to +the extent of three inches, and a female voice which I readily recognised +called to Jack. + +Jack went out, and in a second or two put his head back into the room and +called to me—“Green,” he said, “just step here moment, there’s a good +fellow.” I went out, and there I found Fanny standing with her brother. + +“Here are the girls at their wits’ ends,” said he, “about your dancing. +So Fanny has put a boy upon one of the horse and proposes that you should +send another line to Mrs. Meehan at Ballyglass. It’s only ten miles, and +he’ll be back in two hours.” + +I need hardly say that I acted in conformity with this advice, I went +into Mr. O’Conor’s book room, with Jack and his sister, and there +scribbled a note. I was delightful to feel how intimate I was with them, +and how anxious they were to make me happy. + +“And we won’t begin till they come,” said Fanny. + +“Oh, Miss O’Conor, pray don’t wait,” said I. + +“Oh, but we will,” she answered. “You have your wine to drink, and then +there’s the tea; and then we’ll have a song two. I’ll spin it out; see +if I don’t.” And so we went to the front door where the boy was already +on his horse—her own nag as I afterwards found. + +“And Patsey,” said she, “ride for your life; and Patsey, whatever you do, +don’t come back without Mr. Green’s pumps—his dancing-shoes you know.” + +And in about two hours the pumps did arrive; and I don’t think I ever +spent a pleasanter evening or got more satisfaction out of a pair of +shoes. They had not been two minutes on my feet before Larry was +carrying a tray of negus across the room in those which I had worn at +dinner. + +“The Dillon girls are going to stay here,” said Fanny as I wished her +good night at two o’clock. “And we’ll have dancing every evening as long +as you remain.” + +“But I shall leave to-morrow,” said I. + +“Indeed you won’t. Papa will take care of that.” + +And so he did. “You had better go over to Ballyglass yourself +to-morrow,” said he, “and collect your own things. There’s no knowing +else what you may have to borrow of Larry.” + +I stayed there three weeks, and in the middle of the third I thought that +everything would be arranged between me and Fanny. But the aunt +interfered; and in about a twelvemonth after my adventures she consented +to make a more fortunate man happy for his life. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE O'CONORS OF CASTLE CONOR*** + + +******* This file should be named 3616-0.txt or 3616-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/6/1/3616 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. 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