"For God's sake, child, do not!" she exclaimed; "didn't I know one o'
thim in Boyshton, a docther he was, and a German. He had as many
slishes and sloshes as'd fill a book! Sure I thought I'd lose me life
thrying could I make off at all what he said to me!"

"Well, I shall be slishing and sloshing to you when I come home, Mrs.
Twomey!" said Christian, who was skilled in converse with such as Mrs.
Twomey; "but it will be in French. I suppose you talked German to your
Boston doctor?"

"H'th indeed! Little enough I said to him! I never had anny wish for
thim docthors at all. Look at the little rakeen that's after gettin'
the Dispinsary at Cunnock-a-Ceoil! Three hundred pound the father ped
for it for him! A low, hungry little fella, that'd thravel the
counthry for the sake of a ha'penny--God!"

The flow of Mrs. Twomey's eloquence ceased in shock, as Major
Talbot-Lowry and Miss Coppinger emerged from the dairy behind her.

"Well, Mary," said Dick, "who is it who's so hard up for ha'pence?"

Mrs. Twomey's equanimity was not slow to re-establish itself. She and
the Major were "the one age," and they had grown up together.

"Why then, your Honour knows him well, and too well!" she snapped at
him, looking up his long length to his handsome, good natured face,
much as a minute female cur-dog might look and snap, presuming on her
sex, at a Great Dane. "It's the new little docthor, Danny Aherne, that
your Honour is afther putting in the Dispinsary!"