“But it does signify, it signifies a great deal;
and so you’d know if you were a family man;”—“as
you ought to be,” Mrs. Townsend would have been
delighted to add. “And I’m sure I
sent Jerry five miles, and he was gone four hours
to get that bit of fish from Paddy Magrath, as he
stops always at Ballygibblin Gate; and indeed I thought
myself so lucky, for I only gave Jerry one and sixpence.
But they had an uncommon take of fish yesterday at
Skibbereen, and—”
“One and sixpence!” said Mr. Carter, now
slightly relaxing his brow for the first time.
“I’d have got it for one and three,”
said Mr. Townsend, upon whose mind an inkling of the
truth was beginning to dawn.
“Indeed and you wouldn’t, Aeneas; and
Jerry was forced to promise the man a glass of whisky
the first time he comes this road, which he does sometimes.
That fish weighed over nine pounds, every ounce of
it.”
“Nine fiddlesticks,” said Mr. Townsend.
“I weighed it myself, Aeneas, with my own hands,
and it was nine pounds four ounces before we were
obliged to cut it, and as firm as a rock the flesh
was.”
“For one and sixpence!” said Mr. Carter,
relaxing still a little further, and condescending
to look his hostess in the face.
“Yes, for one and six, and now—”
“I’m sure I’d have bought it for
one and four, fins and all,” said the parson,
determined to interrupt his wife in her pathos.
“I’m sure you would not then,” said
his wife, taking his assertion in earnest. “You
could never market against Jerry in your life; I will
say that for him.”
“If you will allow me to change my mind, I think
I will have a little bit of it,” said Mr. Carter,
almost humbly.
“By all means,” said Mr. Townsend.
“Biddy, bring that fish back. Now I think
of it, I have not half dined myself yet.”
And then they all three forgot their ill humours,
and enjoyed their dinner thoroughly,—in
spite of the acknowledged fault as touching the lost
fins of the animal.
CONDEMNED
I have said that Lord Desmond rode home from Hap House
that day in a quieter mood and at a slower pace than
that which had brought him thither, and in truth it
was so. He had things to think of now much more
serious than any that had filled his mind as he had
cantered along, joyously hoping that after all he
might have for his brother the man that he loved,
and the owner of Castle Richmond also. This was
now impossible; but he felt that he loved Owen better
than ever he had done, and he was pledged to fight
Owen’s battle, let Owen be ever so poor.
“And what does it signify after all?”
he said to himself, as he rode along. “We
shall all be poor together, and then we sha’n’t
mind it so much; and if I don’t marry, Hap House
itself will be something to add to the property;”
and then he made up his mind that he could be happy
enough, living at Desmond Court all his life, so long
as he could have Owen Fitzgerald near him to make
life palatable.
