Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II). Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ one of Roland’s bolder passages, she drew her finger impatiently across the chords, and exclaimed, “It is of no use; it is only the caballero himself can do it.”

      “Let him teach you, then!” cried Cashel, as he sprang into the room, wild with delight.

      “Oh, Mr. Cashel, what a start you ‘ve given me!” said Olivia Kennyfeck, as, covered with blushes, and trembling with agitation, she leaned on the back of a chair.

      “Oh, pray forgive me,” said he, eagerly; “but I was so surprised, so delighted to hear you recalling that little song, I really forgot everything else. Have I startled you, then?”

      “Oh, no; it’s nothing. I was trying a few chords. I thought I was quite alone.”

      “But you’ll permit me to teach you some of our Mexican songs, won’t you? I should be so charmed to hear them sung as you could sing them.”

      “It is too kind of you,” said she, timidly; “but I am no musician. My sister is a most skilful performer, but I really know nothing; a simple ballad and a canzonette are the extent of my efforts.”

      “For our prairie songs, it is the feeling supplies all the character. They are wild, fanciful things, with no higher pretensions than to recall some trait of the land they belong to; and I should be so flattered if you would take an interest in the Far West.”

      “How you must love it! How you must long to return to it!” said Olivia, raising her long drooping lashes, and letting her eyes rest, with an expression of tender melancholy, on Cashel.

      What he might have said there is no guessing, – nay, for his sake, and for hers too, it is better not even to speculate on it; but ere he could reply, another speaker joined in the colloquy, saying, —

      “Good morning, Mr. Cashel. Pray don’t forget, when the lesson is over, that we are waiting breakfast.” So saying, and with a laugh of saucy raillery, Miss Kennyfeck passed down the stairs, not remaining to hear his answer.

      “Oh, Mr. Cashel!” exclaimed Olivia, with a tone half reproachful, half shy, “we shall be scolded, – at least, I shall,” added she. “It is the unforgivable offence in this house to be late at breakfast.”

      Cashel would very willingly have risked all the consequences of delay for a few minutes longer of their interview; but already she had tripped on downstairs, and with such speed as to enter the breakfast-parlor a few seconds before him. Roland was welcomed by the family without the slightest shade of dissatisfaction at his late appearance, cordial greetings and friendly inquiries as to how he had rested pouring in on every side.

      “What ‘s to be done with Mr. Cashel to-day? I hope he is not to be teased by business people and red-tapery,” said Mrs. Kenny feck to her husband.

      “I am afraid,” said the silky attorney, “I am very much afraid I must trespass on his kindness to accompany me to the Master’s office. There are some little matters which will not wait.”

      “Oh, they must,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, peremptorily. “Who is the Master, – Liddard, is n’t it? Well, tell him to put it off; Mr. Cashel must really have a little peace and quietness after all his fatigues.”

      “It will only take an hour, at most, Mrs. Kennyfeck,” remonstrated her submissive mate.

      “Well, that is nothing,” cried Cashel. “I ‘m not in the least tired, and the day is long enough for everything.”

      “Then we have a little affair which we can manage at home here about the mortgages. I told you – ”

      “I believe you did,” replied Cashel, laughing; “but I don’t remember a word of it. It’s about paying some money, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, it’s the redemption of two very heavy claims,” exclaimed Kennyfeck, perfectly shocked at the indifference displayed by the young man, – “claims for which we are paying five and a half per cent.”

      “And it would be better to clear them off?” said Cashel, assuming a show of interest in the matter he was far from feeling.

      “Of course it would. There is a very large sum lying to your credit at Falkner’s, for which you receive only three per cent.”

      “Don’t you perceive how tiresome you are, dear Mr. Kennyfeck?” said his wife. “Mr. Cashel is bored to death with all this.”

      “Oh, no! not in the least, madam. It ought to interest me immensely; and so all these things will, I ‘m sure. But I was just thinking at what hour that fellow we met on the packet was to show us those horses he spoke of?”

      “At four,” said Mr. Kennyfeck, with a half-sigh of resignation; “but you ‘ll have ample time for that. I shall only ask you to attend at the judge’s chambers after our consultation.”

      “Well, you are really intolerable!” cried his wife. “Why cannot you and Jones, and the rest of you, do all this tiresome nonsense, and leave Mr. Cashel to us? I want to bring him out to visit two or three people; and the girls have been planning a canter in the park.”

      “The canter, by all means,” said Cashel. “I ‘m sure, my dear Mr. Kennyfeck, you ‘ll do everything far better without me. I have no head for anything like business; and so pray, let me accompany the riding-party.”

      “The attendance at the Master’s is peremptory,” sighed the attorney, – “there is no deferring that; and as to the mortgages, the funds are falling every hour. I should seriously advise selling out at once.”

      “Well, sell out, in Heaven’s name! Do all and anything you like, and I promise my most unqualified satisfaction at the result.”

      “There, now,” interposed Mrs. Kennyfeck, authoritatively, “don’t worry any more; you see how tiresome you are!”

      And poor Mr. Kennyfeck seemed to see and feel it too; for he hung his head, and sipped his tea in silence.

      “To-day we dine alone, Mr. Cashel,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck; “but to-morrow I will try to show you some of the Dublin notorieties, – at least, such as are to be had in the season. On Friday we plan a little country party into Wicklow, and have promised to keep Saturday free, if the Blackenburgs want us.”

      “What shall we say, then, about Tubberbeg, Mr. Cashel?” said Kennyfeck, withdrawing him into a window-recess. “We ought to give the answer at once.”

      “Faith! I forgot all about it,” said Cashel. “Is that the fishery you told me of?”

      “Oh, no!” sighed the disconsolate man of law. “It’s the farm on the terminable lease, at present held by Hugh Corrigan; he asks for a renewal.”

      “Well, let him have it,” said Cashel, bluntly, while his eyes were turned towards the fire, where the two sisters, with arms entwined, stood in the most graceful of attitudes.

      “Yes, but have you considered the matter maturely?” rejoined Kennyfeck, laying his hand on Cashel’s arm. “Have you taken into account that he only pays eight and seven pence per acre, – the Irish acre, too, – and that a considerable part of that land adjoining the Boat Quay is let, as building plots for two and sixpence a foot?”

      “A devilish pretty foot it is, too,” murmured Cashel, musingly.

      “Eh! what?” exclaimed Kennyfeck, СКАЧАТЬ