onsignore Galloni. We talk theology and mundane things at times, and
we play besique, and we flirt a little; but not as you would understand
flirtation. It is as though a light zephyr stirred the leaves of the
affections and shook out the perfume, but never detached a blossom nor
injured a bud. Monsignore is an adept at this game; so serious, and yet
so tender, so spiritual, and at the same time so compassionate to poor
weak human nature--which, by the way, he understands in its conflicts
with itself, its motives, and its struggles, as none of your laymen do.
Not but poor Pracontal had a very ingenious turn, and could reconcile
much that coarser minds would have called discrepant and contradictory.

"So that, dearest, with less than three thousand, or two five hundred,
I must positively go to jail. It has occurred to me that, if none care
to go over to that house in Ireland, I might as well live there, at
least for the two or three months in the year that the odious climate
permits. As to the people, I know they would dote on me. I feel for them
very much, and I have learned out here the true chords their natures
respond to. What do you say to this plan? Would it not be ecstasy if
you agreed to share it? The cheapness of Ireland is a proverb. I had
a grand-uncle who once was Viceroy there, and his letters show that he
only spent a third of his official income.

"I 'd like to do this, too, if I only knew what my official income was.
Ask Gusty this question, and kiss every one that ought to be kissed, and
give them loves innumerable, and believe me ever your 'Doting mamma" (or
mamina, that is prettier),

"Augusta Bramleigh.

"I shall write to Marion to-morrow. It will not be as easy a task as
this letter; but I have done even more difficult ones. So they are
saying now that Culduff's promotion was a mere mistake; that there
never was such a man as Sam Rogers at all--no case--no indemnity--no
escape--no anything. Oh, dear me, as Monsignore says, what rest have our
feet once we leave total incredulity?"

THE END.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bramleighs Of Bishop's Folly, by
Charles James Lever

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