hapelizod, except on horseback, and two or
three times in the year at a grand dinner at the Artillery mess. And
when Mervyn was mentioned he always talked of something else, rather
imperiously, as though he said, 'You'll please to observe that upon that
subject I don't choose to speak.' And as for Dr. Walsingham, when he
thought it right to hold his tongue upon a given matter, thumb-screws
could not squeeze it from him.

In short, our friend Toole grew so feverish under his disappointment
that he made an excuse of old Tim Molloy's toothache to go up in person
to the 'Tiled House,' in the hope of meeting the young gentleman, and
hearing something from him (the servants, he already knew, were as much
in the dark as he) to alleviate his distress. And, sure enough, his luck
stood him in stead; for, as he was going away, having pulled out old
Molloy's grinder to give a colour to his visit, who should he find upon
the steps of the hall-door but the pale, handsome young gentleman
himself.

Dr. Toole bowed low, and grinned with real satisfaction, reminded him of
their interview at the 'Phoenix,' and made by way of apology for his
appearance at the 'Tiled House,' a light and kind allusion to poor old
Tim, of whose toothache he spoke affectionately, and with water in his
eyes--for he half believed for the moment what he was saying--declared
how he remembered him when he did not come up to Tim's knee-buckle, and
would walk that far any day, and a bit further too, he hoped, to relieve
the poor old boy in a less matter. And finding that Mr. Mervyn was going
toward Chapelizod, he begged him not to delay on his account, and
accompanied him down the Ballyfermot road, entertaining him by the way
with an inexhaustible affluence of Chapelizod anecdote and scandal, at
which the young man stared a good deal, and sometimes even appeared
impatient: but the doctor did not perceive it, and rattled on; and told
him moreover, everything about himself and his belongings with a minute
and voluble frankness, intended to shame the suspicious reserve of the
stranger. But nothing came; and being by this time grown bolder, he
began a more direct assault, and told him, with a proper scorn of the
village curiosity, all the theories which the Chapelizod gossips had
spun about him.

'And they say, among other things, that you're not--a--in fact--there's
a mystery--a something--about your birth, you know,' said Toole, in a
tone implying pity and contempt