'Camminy, you must try to amuse yourself,' he said briskly. 'Anything
you may be wanting at home shall be sent for. I must have you here to
make sure that I am acting under good advice. You can take one of the
keepers for an hour or two of shooting. I may join you in the afternoon.
You will find occupation for your gun in the north covers.'

He wandered about the house, looking into several rooms, and only
partially at rest when he discovered Caroline in one, engaged upon some
of her aquarelle sketches. He asked where the young Irishman was.

'Are you in search of him?' said she. 'You like him, uncle? He is out
riding, they tell me.'

'The youngster is used to south-western showers in that climate of his,'
Mr. Adister replied. 'I dare say we could find the Jesuit in him
somewhere. There's the seed. His cousin Con O'Donnell has filled him
with stuff about Ireland and England: the man has no better to do than to
train a parrot. What do you think of him, my love?'

The judgement was not easily formed for expression. 'He is not quite
like what I remember of his brother Philip. He talks much more, does he
not? He seems more Irish than his brother. He is very strange. His
feelings are strong; he has not an idea of concealing them. For a young
man educated by the Jesuits, he is remarkably open.'

'The Jesuits might be of service to me just now!' Mr. Adister addressed
his troubled soul, and spoke upon another conception of them: 'How has he
shown his feelings?'