Rich Man Relatives By Jj^e^l/|flol^ op iNCHBRACKEN M-^ a I E> RARY OF THE UN IVLRSITY or ILLINOIS 82-3 C585r y.l ♦i^ mM A RICH MAN'S RELATIVES, PRESS NOTICES OF INCH BRAOKEN," A NOVEL BY E. CLELAND. — ♦— i-o^o— j— ♦— Westminster Review, October, 1883. " luchbracken " is a clever sketch of Scottish life and manners at the time of the "Disruption," or great secession from the Established CImrch of Scotland, which resulted in the formation of the Free Churcli. The scene of the story is a remote country parish in the north of Scotland, within a few miles of tlie highland line. The main interest centres in the young Free Church minister and liis sister and their relations, on the one hand, with the enthusiastic supporters of the Disruption movement, mostly of the peasant or small tradesmen class, -with a sprinkling of the smaller land- owners ; and, on the other hand, with the zealous supporters of the Estab- lished Churcli, represented by the Drysdales of Inchbracken, the great family of the neighbourhood. The story is well and simply told, with many a quiet touch of humour, founded on no inconsiderable knowledge of human nature. Academy, 27th October, 1883. There is a great deal of solid writing in "Inchbracken," and they who read it Vidll hardly do so in vain. It is a story of the Disruption ; and it sets forth, with mucli pains and not a little spirit, the humours and scandals of one of the communities affected by the event. The main incident of the story has nothing to do with tlie Disruption, it is true ; but its personages are tliose of the time, and the uses to whicli they are put are such as tlie Disruption made possible. Roderick Brown, the entliusiastic young Free Churcli minister, finds on tlie sea-shore after wreck and storm, a poor little human waif which the sea has spared. He takes the baby home, and does his best for it. One of his parishioners has lost her c}iaracter, however ; and as Roderick, at tlie instigation of his beadle, the real autlior of her ruin, is good enough to give her money and lielp, it soon becomes evident to Inchbracken that lie is tlie villain, and tliat the baliy of the wreck is the fruit of an illicit amour. How it ends I shall not say. I shall do no more than note that the story of the minister's trials and the portraitures — of elders and gossips, hags and maids and village notables — witli which it is enriclied are (especially if you are not afraid of tlie broadest Scotch, written with the most uncompromising regard for the national honour) amusing and natural in no mean degree. W. E. Hknley. Athenman, ijth November, 1883. " Inch bracken " will be found amusing by those who are familiar with Scotch country life. The period chosen, the "Disruption time," is an epoch in the religious and social life of Scotland, marking a i-evival, in an extremely modified and not altogether genuine form, of the polemic Puritanism of tlie early Presbyterians, and so furnishing a subject which lends itself better to literary treatment than most sides of Scottish life in this prosaic century. The author has a good descriptive gift, and makes the most of the picturesque side of the early Free Cliurch meetings at wliich declaimers against Erastian patronage posed in the attitude of tlie Covenanters of old. Tlie story opens on a stormy niglit when Roderick Brown, the young Free Church minister of Kilrundle, is summoned on a ten- mile expedition to attend a dying woman, an expedition which involves him in all the troubles wliich form the subject of the book. The patient has nothing on her mind of an urgent character. " No, mem ! na !' " says the messenger, " My granny's a godly auld wife, tho' maybe she's gye fraxious whiles, an' money's the sair paikin' she's gi'en me ; gin there was ocht to confess she kens tlie road to the Throne better nor niaist. But ye see there's a maggit gotten iutil her held an' she says she bent to testifee afore she gangs hence.' " The example of Jenny G eddes has been too much for the poor old woman : — "Ay, an' I'm thinkin' it's that auld carline, Jenny G eddes, 'at's raised a' tlie fash ! My granny gaed to hear Mester Dowlas whan he preached among the w^hins down by the shore, an' oh, but he was bonny ! An' a graand screed 0' doctrine he gae us. For twa hale hours he preaclied an expundet an' never drew breath for a' the wind was skirlin', an' the renn whiles skelpin' like wild. An' I'm thinkin' my granny's gotten her deatli o' ta'. But oh ! an' he was grand on Jenny G eddes ! an' hoo she up wi' the creepie am' heved it a the Erastian's held. An' my granny was just fairly ta'en wi't a', an' she vooed she beut to be a mither in Israel tae, an' whan slie gaed hame slie out wi' the auld hugger 'at she keeps the l)awbees in, aneath tlie liearthstane, for to buy a creepie o' her ain,— she thoclit a new ane wad be best for the Lord's wark, — an' she coupet the chair whaur hung lier grave claes,' at slie airs foment the fire ilika Saturday at e"en, 'an out there cam a lowe, an' scorched a liole i' the windin' sheet, an' noo, puir body, we'll hae to liap her in her muckle tartan plaid. An' aiblins shell be a' the warmer e'y moulds for that. But, however, she says the sheet was weel waurVl, for the guid cause. An' syne she took til her bed, wi' a sair host, an' sma' winder, for there was a weet daub wliaur she had been sittin' amang the whins. An' noo the hosfs settled on her that sair, she whiles canna draw her breath. Sae she says she maun let the creepie birlin' slide, but she beut to testifee afore some godly minister or slie gangs lience. An" I'm fear'd, sir, ye maun liurry, for she's real far tlirougli." Tlie excuse for tliis loiig extract must l)e its excellence as a specimen of a long-winded statement, just such as a Scotch fisher boy would make when once the ice was broken. Not less idiomatic is the interview between Mrs. Boague, the sliepherd's wife, and Mrs. Sangster "of Auchlippie," the great lady of the congregation, when the latter has liad her painful experience of mountain climliing, till rescued by the "lug and the horn" at the hands of lier spiritual pastor. Otlier good scenes are the meeting of the two old wives in mutches an the brae side, and the final discomfiture of tlie hypocritical scamp Joseph Smiley by his mother-in-law, Tibbie Tirpie, who rights her daughter's wrongs and the minister's reputation by a capital colli, '/'' """■/(. Of more serious interest, though full of humour, are the trials the excellent Roderick endures at the hands of his kirk session. Ebenezer Prittie and Peter Malloch are types of many an elder minister and ministers' wives have had to groan under, and the race is not extinct. But all who are interested in such specimens of human nature should refer to Mr.Cleland, who knows liis countrymen as well as lie can describe his country. Select HoYels by Popular Authors. Crown 8vo, cloth, 3.V. 6d. each. By Florence Marryat. MY SISTER THE ACTEESS. A BROKEN BLOSSOM. PHyLLIDA. THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL. FACING THE FOOTLIGHTS. By Annie Thomas. allerton towers, friends and loyers. eyre of blendon. By Mrs. Eiloart. THE DEAN'S WIFE. SOME OF OUR GIRLS. By Lady Constance Howard. sweetheart and wife, mollie darling. By the Author of "Recommended to Mercy." BARBARA'S WARNING. By Mrs. Alexander Fraser. A PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY. By Harriett Jay. two men and a maid. EICH MAN'S RELATIYES. BY R. CLE LA N D, AUTHOR OF "INCHBRACKEN." IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : F. V. WHITE AND CO., 31, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 1885, PRINTED BV KELLY AND CO., GATE STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS; AND MIDDLE MII-L KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. V. I CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. — HoAV HIS Relatioxs vexed the Rich Man . . i ^ ^J II.— Steadfast Maky ..... i8 ^ III.— Little Arcadia . . . . . -35 i IV.— - OuiT •■ 48 " V. -FiDELE . . . . . . .68 - - VI. — The Misses Stanley .... 87 '^ VII.— The Desolate Mother . . .103 VIII.— Ralph . . . . .121 ' IX.— At St. P^uphrase ..... 137 '-• X.- Ten Years Later . . . . .154 V XI. — Mahomet and Kadijah . . . -177 XII. — A Garden Tea ..... 209 XIII. -On Account of Stkawberries .... 233 A EICH lAN'S RELATIVES. ^-^<^ CHAPTEE I. HOW HIS RELATIONS VEXED THE RICH MAN. One evening early in July, 1858, there might have been seen through the railings of a villa in a suburban street of Montreal, if only the thick shrubbery leaves would have permitted the view, a lady — Miss Judith Herkimer, to wit — seated in a quiet corner of the verandah, and partially concealed by the clusters of a wisteria trained to the pillar against which she leaned. Miss Judith had entered on that uninteresting middle time of life, when, though youth with its graces is undeniably of the past, the grey hairs which may perchance intrude among the brown, are not yet a crown of honour ; the bloom and the promise of life are VOL. I. 1 2 A RICH MAN'S RELATIVES. over, but the pathetic dignity of retrospect, with its suggestions of what has or what might have been, which make age beautiful, are not yet arrived. It was the sear and dusty afternoon stage ol her pilgrimage and her spinsterhood, and there was a shade of severity in her aspect, as though living had OTOwn into somethino^ to be struo^oied with and endured — the season for duty to a serious mind, seeing that the time for enjoyment is manifestly gone by. The flatness with which her hair was laid upon her temples, and then drawn back tightly without wave or pad to the apex of her head, and secured in the form of an onion, left no doubt as to the seriousness of Miss Judith's mind, while the severe ungracefulness of her dress argued an ascetic tendency of that aggressive kind which says, " Brother, I would fast, therefore you shall go without your dinner " — a person tiresome rather than bad, but with the long chin of that obstinacy which can be so provoking when the understanding and imagination are too narrow to perceive the true relation of things. On the lawn before her stood a mulatto lad of about eighteen, dressed in the white linen suit of a house servant, and with a long apron suspended from his neck, as though he had HOW HIS RELATIONS VEXED THE BICH MAN. 3 been called from his glass-wasliing in the pantry. "You say, Miss Judith," he was saying, while he pulled the apron through his fingers with a puzzled look, " dat I b'long to myself and not to de cu'nel as owns me ? Den w'y dis house as you owns not b'long to me too ? " " Because property in our fellow-men is not recognized in this free country, Cato. But you cannot be expected to understand these intri- cate questions all at once. Patience and humility, Cato ! Now for your reading. Have you got your book ? Ah ! yes. Here is the place. What does rat read ? " " Cat ! Miss Judy." "Fie I Cato. Cat h cat. That is rat! Begins with an E. You see ? " " 'Cep' de cat hab done gone eaten de rat. Den whaar will he be. Miss Judy ? All cat after dat ! I reckon." " Cato, you are foolish I Now, attend ! " " Cato," said another voice from the back ground, " go to your pantry and assist Bridget with her tea-things," and Miss Herkimer stepped out on the verandah from a window not far off. Miss Herkimer was a good many years older than her sister, but she admitted the fact that she was elderly, and did not seem to find it interfere with her comfort. Her 1—2 4 A RICH MAX'S BELATIVES. hair was white, and hung in curls over her temples, and the folds of her black silk gown had a free and contented swing which refreshed the eye after the pinched exactness of Miss Judith's costume. "Gerald and his friend have moved into the smoking-room with their cigars, and as the windows are open I was afraid your instructions might be overheard ; and then, Judith, there would be a commotion which you would regret." " We must think what is right, Susan, do it, and never mind the consequences." "It cannot be right to interfere between our brother Gerald and his servant. If the customs in his country are different from ours, that cannot be helped. He follows his own, and while he is our guest, it is not for us to disturb." "Think of the iniquity of slavery, Susan — that that young man should be held in bondage, in this free Canada ! It seems awful. Look at him, and deny if you can that he is a man and a brother ! " "I have no objection whatever to admit his being a man and brother, but I certainly should not like to have to call him nephew ! And that is what it may come to if you pro- voke Gerald. You know how violent he can HOW HIS BELATIOXS VEXED THE BICH MAN. 5 be when lie is roused, and if he thought we were tampering with his negro, or attempting an abolitionist scheme, he is capable even of — adopting him, we will call it — and leaving him his whole fortune." '• Do you think so ? That would be most unprincipled conduct on his part." " I know he is quite capable of it ; and be- sides, Judith, I think you are unnecessarily scrupulous about that ugly word ' slavery.' It really seems not so bad a thing after all, come to see it in action. Gerald, now, is ex- tremely kind to the boy — spoils him, indeed, with indulgence, and makes him do very little work. How much better he is off than Stephen's foot-boy, with a pony to mind and the garden to weed when he is not splitting wood or acting butler in the house. It is Stephen's boy who is the slave, to my think- ing. Again, I heard Gerald say he refused two thousand dollars for him from a barber in New Orleans. He is quite a valuable boy, and you would tempt him to leave his master ! " " Two thousand dollars for a black boy ? Why ! Stephen's white boy gets only ten dollars a month and some clothes. Does it not seem extravagant, now, to have so much money tied up in one negro ? — and sinful ? 6 A RICH MAN'S BELATIVES. How much good might be done with that money if the boy were realized! One like Stephen's at ten dollars a month could do his work — it seems to be only shaving his master, and after that to do what he is bid — and the rest of the money might do such very great good. Five hundred dollars might be given to African missions to enlighten his pagan fellow-countrymen, and would carry the truth to so man}^ ! — and still there would be money over to do much sjood." "And how do you propose to realize a negro boy, sister, except by selling him to another slave owner ? And what about the man and brother?" " True, Susan ! Quite true. I admit the force of your objection. It is another illustra- tion of the mystery our good rector dwelt upon so touchmgly last Sunday, that good and evil walk the earth hand-in-hand. A solemn thought! But in this case it reall}^ seems to me that the boy's bondage would be well compensated. He is a slave already, you must remember — has no idea what liberty means — and five hundred dollars would bring so many darkened savages within the influence of gospel light. If the poor ignorant crea- ture knew enough to understand, I am sure HOW HIS DELATIONS VEXED THE PJCH MAN. 7 he would rejoice to think that so slight a change in his own circumstances would bring so vast a benefit to his benighted brethren." " And you'd still be fifteen hundred dollars to the good, Judith. Quite an operation in another man's niggers ! Ha, ha! Godliness is profitable ! That's sound evangelical doctrine ! Ha, ha, ha ! " These words rang forth in a discordant voice from a neighbouring window, the Vene- tians of which were now pushed open. The ladies gasped and turned round in dis- may. As they had grown earnest in their conversation their voices had been rising to the pitch at which they could not but be heard without eaves-dropping, and they had been overheard. Within the window, which was open, stood the " Gerald " of whom they had been dis- coursing — a tall square-framed man, but sadly wasted and collapsed under prolonged attacks of malarial fever. He was between fifty and sixty years of age, with features which had once been stern and resolute, but now, under the stress of continued ill-health, had grown querulous and peevish in their expression. He had gone to Louisiana some thirty years before to push his fortune. From French- A men MAN'S RELATIVES. speaking Lower Canada to French-understand- ing Louisiana seemed less of an expatriation than to Enghsh New York or California, and such Frenchness as he was able to bring — he was English-born after all, and only Canadian by education — had prepossessed the Louisian- ians in his favour. He had pushed his fortune — married the heiress of a valuable plantation near Natchez, where he had resided ever since — and amassed wealth. He had lost, however, his wife, his child, and latterly his good-health ; and at last had been compelled to return to his friends in the North to give his shattered constitution a last chance to shake off the creeping agues which were dragging him to the grave. He had been a year already under his sisters' roof, greatly to his own worriment ; for between his fever fits and the prostration w^hich followed them, there would intervene hours of restless irritability, when it seemed to him that his affairs were entangling themselves into a knot of hopeless confusion, deprived as they were of the master's eye which alone sees clearly. " What do you think of that, major ? " Gerald continued, turning to his companion who was gnawing the end of a very large cigar — a tall sallow man with a much waxed and pointed black moustache and goatee, and HOW HIS RELATIONS VEXED THE RICH MAN. 9 an exuberant display of jewellery in his shirt front. "Who in Natchez would expect to find me summering in a nest of blazing aboli- tionists? Better say nothing when you get home, or I may have to settle with the vigi- lance committee when I go back." " I did not expect it, colonel," said the major, pulling down his waistcoat and looking dimified. " Amono^ fanatical Yankees I reckon on hearing the institootions of my country vilified, and so I give sech cattle a wide berth ; but here, on British terri-tory, I expected some liberality. Bless my soul ! trying to corrupt your servant under your very nose ! " The ladies had withdrawn in confusion under their brother's first attack, or civility to his hostesses must have kept the major silent. At the same time he felt outraged. To think that he, one of the most " high-toned " men of his neighbourhood, and with the very soundest Southern principles, should have been trapped into a den of lowlived — it was always "low- lived " — abolitionism ! His friend Herkimer too, had always passed for a " high-toned gen- tleman " of sound principles when in Natchez, and to find him the member of such a family was inexpressibly shocking. " Yes," said Herkimer, " it is bad — shows what fools women can be when they don't lo A BICH MAN'S RELATIVES. know, and swallow all the rant that gets into print. After that they think they know so much that they won't believe a word those who could tell them can say. If my boy, Cato, now, had not been an extra good nigger, these sisters of mine would have made him leave me long ago. When his mother, Amanda, died, I promised her I would always keep him about myself — and he does, I will say, understand my little ways — or I never would have ventured to bring him to Canada ; but the fact is, the boy's fond of me, and won't leave me, say what they like. Still it provokes a man to see his property being tampered with. Then, too, my sister Judith feels it her dooty, she says, to speak to me about the sinfulness of having property in human beings. I ask her to prove that they are human, but she just rolls her eyes and looks solemn. She calls her talk ' a word in season,' but she chooses the most unseasonable times to hold forth ; generally when my chill is coming on, and the long yawn creeping up my back that Ave all know, when I don't feel man enough to sav ' bo ' to a goose. My wig ! If I could I'd say more than ' bo ' to Judith. She holds on steady till I begin to grow blue and my teeth chatter, then I pull the bell for Cato to l3ring more blankets, and he — good lad — always sends her away, HOJV HIS BELATIONS VEXED THE EICH MAN. ii first tiling. Susan bothers too — money, gen- erally — but I'm free to allow she has more gumption than Judith. Old maids both. That's a sort of critter we don't have down Natchez way. There they marry. Eeckon you never saw any before, major ? Pecoolier, ain't they ?" " The ladies are vour sisters, colonel. Estimable, I doubt not ; but they do not under- stand our Southern institootions." "Talking of understanding, major, do you see much of my nephew, Ealph ? When he went down to the plantation I gave him a letter to you, as being my nearest neighbour, and a good friend. I told him he might place im- plicit reliance on your opinion in any case of doubt which might arise. The overseers are men whom I could trust to make a crop if I was on the spot myself; but of course the young man had to learn, and circumstances were sure to arise in which your advice would be most val'able. Do you see him often ? " Major Considine — I omitted to mention his name earlier, and I may now add by way of makino' amends for the nesflect, that the " major " was a prefix of courtesy conferred by his neighbours to describe his social status and the extent of his possessions ; Herkimer's colonelcy was of the same kind, but the higher rank implied a larger holding in land and 12 A BICH MAN'S RELATIVES. negroes — Major Considine coughed dryly, drew himself up, and looked sallower if possi- ble than his wont, while his eyes sought the ground. " I have seen your nephew, sir," he said, "frequentl}^ When he came down first I invited him to come and see me, and treated him in all respects as I would any other gen- tleman, your friend ; but I am bound to own that lately we have not met ; " and he gave the waxed points of his moustache a further twirl with something of an aggrieved air, as if to intimate that while he had done his part unimpeachably, he had reason to complain of the way in which his advances had been met. Herkimer frowned and threw away his cigar. " Fact is, major," he said, '' I have a letter from Taine. Taine has been my overseer for a good many years, as you know, and I have found him a good man. He talks of leaving my employment at the end of the year, and asks me to send him a letter stating my satisfaction with him during the years he has been over- seeing for me. I can well do that, but I'd hate to lose him. Good overseers are scarce. He complains that Ealph has discharged one of the assistant overseers against his wish, that he interferes with the field work, and has damaged ten of the hands to the extent of two HOiV HIS RELATIONS VEXED THE BICH MAN. 13 or three hundred dollars apiece, and the crop prospect is reduced by forty or fifty bales. He says that his character for getting more bales to the hand than any other overseer in the section is at stake, and he has concluded, if I feel unable to return to the plantation, that he will leave. What do you think of it ? " " Not at all surprised, sir ; Taine is not to be blamed. Mr. Ealph Herkimer came to me shortly after he had discharged that assistant you mention, to ask my advice. It seems they had met accidentally immediately after the dis- charge, in some saloon, and Mister Ealph Her- kimer being ignorant, it appears, that in our glorious land of freedom all white men are equal, had put on some of his plantation airs. He has those plantation airs mighty strong, having, as you say yourself, knocked three or four thousand dollars off the value of your field gangs, by nothing but whipping — clear unmerciful whipping, they do say around Nat- chez. Waal, his tale was a good deal mixed, and I don't pretend to know the rights, but it seems the discharged overseer asked him to drink, to show he bore no spite. Mr. Ealph Herkimer refused, said something about white trash, and flung the liquor in his face. The overseer drew his pistol, and would have fired, but the folks in the bar-room interfered to 14 A BICH MAyS RELATIVES. protect an unarmed man, and so Mr. Ealpli Herkimer rode safe home, and shortly after arriving there received a hostile message. He rode over to see me with the letter in his hand, and that is how I come to know the circum- stance, colonel. And let me add, sir, that though I fear no man living, I would not have pained your feelin's by alluding to it, if you had not made it necessary yourself, by bring- ing up the subject. The young man showed me his letter of defiance, and I spoke to him, as an older man and a gentleman, I hope, colonel, should speak to your nephew on sucli an occasion. He said he was indignant at being addressed in that style by a common fellow, and that where there was no equality there could be no claim to satisfaction. I pointed out to him that under the constitootion of our State all white men are equal, and that we, the first families, were always scrupulously courteous to our poorer neighbours, that being the only way to hold the community together. We want their help often, I told liim, as at election times, incase of jury trials, when their goodwill goes farther to gain a verdict than all the blathering of the lawyers ; and in case of serious trouble with the hands we can alwa3^s depend on a Avhite man, and it is well worth our while to accord him such equality as he HOW HIS DELATIONS VEXED THE EICH MAN. 15 can understand. Our first families, I told him, yield all that cheerfully, and find they can still be exclusive enough. As he had gone so far, I assured him he must fight, which after all would be a high compliment to the poor devil, and would make him — your nephew — popular with the meaner sort, which he would find profitable at an election, if by-and-by he were to naturalize and go into politics. I offered to undertake the management of the whole affair, and you are aware, colonel, I have some experi- ence. I even showed him my French case of spring triggers, and my new patent Colt's revolvers, in case he had any preference as to arms, the choice resting with him ; and — would you believe it, sir? — but really, really I dare not call up the blush of shame on your honourable features. The — this young man — declined my offer with thanks ! He said it did not become him as a gentleman to go cut-throating with common fellows. I suggested that it was often nothing but a reverse of fortune which turned a gentleman into an assistant overseer. Then he said that bloodshed on account of a trifling misunderstanding was against his principles, when I replied that he must have mistaken Mississippi for Pennsylvania, and warned him that if he did not fight when it was put upon him, he would be insulted every time he 1 6 A BICH MA^^'S BELATIVES. appeared outside his own plantation. Then he asked me to use my good offices to accommo- date things, but I explained to him that I could only meet the class to which his adversary belonged, either to fight them or to order them what they should do. After that Mr. Ealph Herkimer grew sulky — I thought at one time he was going to be offensive — but the pistol cases stood open on the table, and the gentle- man don't like firearms I think ; anyhow, he simmered down. I believe he ended by apolo- gizing to the assistant overseer for not drink- ing his hquor; but I do know, I have never spoken to Mr. Ealph Herkimer since." "I don't blame you, major," said Herkimer. "The young man is not what my father's grandson ought to be. He won't do for Mississippi, that's clear ; and I ain't going to let Taine leave me on account of him. I was wise to let him go down for the first year alone, leaving his wife and child here till he knew how he liked it. He had better come home again, for / don't like it, whether he does or no. I had meant him to succeed me down there, major ; but the man who first pays off overseers and then apologizes to them cannot do that. He is my only brother Stephen's only son. It is disappointing. My two sisters, whom you have seen, would not HOW HIS BEL AT IONS VEXED THE BICH MAN. 17 do for planteresses in Mississippi ; but I have another sister yet — young, major, and hand- some — my half-sister ; just about the age of Ealph. She might be made my heiress, and if she marries as I would wish, she shall ! I need not conceal the truth from myself, major. The doctors have as good as told me I shall never return to Mississippi. You have not seen her yet, Considine, this sister of mine, Mar}^ She is just about the age of Jeanne de Beaulieu when I married her — poor Jeanne ! — not unlike her, and quite as hand- some. Strange, would it not be, if Beaulieu went with an heiress again ? Here comes Cato to call us into the drawing-room for tea. We'll go, Considine, if you have finished your cigar ; and — who knows ? — we may see Mary.'' f