“Well,” Larry went on, “it wasn’t a very nice way that those Carmodys up at Derrylugga treated Miss Christian Talbot-Lowry the other day!  Killing her mare under her, the cowardly blackguards!”

The grey parrot eyes scanned Larry, summing him up, determining how far he might be trusted, deciding that an oblique approach might be most advisable.

“Major Lowry’s a fine gentleman,” said John Herlihy, largely; “a fine, easy, grauver man!  I declare I was sorry to me heart when he gave up the hounds!  If it was to be only a scold or a curse from him, ye’d rather it, and to have he be goin’ through the country!”

“Then what have people against him?  Good God!” cried Larry, hotly.  “It’s too easy he is! I wouldn’t have let those devils off as easy as he did!”

“I heard the Priest and a few more, was above at Mount Music ere yesterday,” said John Herlihy, in a slightly lowered voice, “about the sale of the property they were, I b’lieve.  You done well, Master Larry, you got quit o’ the whole kit of us!”

Having thus shelved the controversial subject, Mr. Herlihy, laughing heartily at his own jest, moved towards his horse and car, that were hitched to the chapel gate, and let down the upturned side of the car.

“Come!  Get up, woman!  Get up!” he called to his wife, a prosperous lady, in a massive, blue, hooded cloak, who had been standing by the gate, patiently waiting his pleasure; “don’t be delaying me this way!”

He winked at Larry, scrambling on to the car.

“What tashpy he has!” remarked Mrs. Herlihy, benignantly, as Larry shook hands with her.

“Ah, you spoil him, Mrs. Herlihy!  You should dock his oats!” said Larry, laughing into her jolly, round, red face, that was glistening with heat under the heavy cloth hood.  “It’s a grand hot day, isn’t it?”

“’Tis very warm, sir, indeed,” corrected Mrs. Herlihy, as she mounted the car with an agility as competent, and as unexpected, as that of a trespassing cow confronted with a stone-faced bank.

Larry went home, and continued a letter to Christian that he had begun over night.  He told her of Barty’s visit, and of all that it was likely to involve.  He said that he was very lonely, and he believed she had been gone a year.  Even Aunt Freddy had bolted off to Dublin, on urgent private affairs, which meant the dentist, as usual.  He would go over to see Cousin Dick, only that he was absolutely bound to go into Cluhir.  At this point he entered anew upon the subject of his political future, and what it meant to him.  Of the fun he would have canvassing the electors.  Christian would have to come round with him, and in very obdurate cases there was always the classical method of the Duchess of Devonshire to be resorted to!  Already, he said, he was frightfully interested in the whole show, and he meant—­several pages were devoted by Larry to his intentions.