hat_."
"Can you take the trouble to explain which _that_ it is? Has he company,
or is he alone?"
"Just _that_, sir. Walk in, and he'll be charmed to see you. A fine
gentleman is his honour, and pleasure it is to live with him, I'm sure!"
"How long is it since you left Ireland, my friend?"
"Isn't it a mighty bit, now, yer honour!" answered Barney, closing the
door. "T'irteen weeks, if it's one day."
"Well, go ahead, and show us the way. This is a bad omen, Hugh, to find
that Jack Dunning, of all men in the country, should have changed his
servant--good, quiet, lazy, respectable, old, grey-headed Garry the
nigger--for such a bogtrotter as that fellow, who climbs those stairs as
if accustomed only to ladders."
Dunning was in his library on the second floor, where he passed most of
his evenings. His surprise was equal to that which my uncle had just
experienced, when he saw us two standing before him. A significant
gesture, however, caused him to grasp his friend and client's hand in
silence; and nothing was said until the _Swiss_ had left the room,
although the fellow stood with the door in his hand a most inconvenient
time, just to listen to what might pass between the host and his guests.
At length we got rid of him, honest, well-meaning fellow that he was,
after all; and the door was closed.
"My last letters have brought you home, Roger?" said Jack, the moment he
_could_ speak; for feeling, as well as caution, had something to do with
his silence.
"They have, indeed. A great change must have come over the country, by
what I hear; and one of the very worst symptoms is that you have turned
away Garry, and got an Irishman in his place."
"Ah! old men must die, as well as old principles, I find. My poor fellow
went off in a fit last week, and I took that Irishman as a _pis aller_.
After losing poor Garry, who was born a slave in my father's house, I
became indifferent, and accepted the first comer from the intelligence
office."
"We must be careful, Dunning, not to give up too soon. But hear my
story, and then to other matters."
My uncle then explained his wish to be incognito, and his motive.
Dunning listened attentively, but seemed uncertain whether to dissent or
approve. The matter was discussed briefly, and then it was postponed for
further consideration.
"But how comes on this great moral dereliction, called anti-rentism? Is
it on the wane, or the increase?"
"On the wane, to the eye, perhaps
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