McIlheny!"
McIlheny, darkly: "Never moind my thrain, sor! My wife says it was a
put-up jahb between ye. She says ye were afther laughun', and lukun'
and winkun' at her before this mahn slipped up to spake to her. Now
what do ye make of that?"
Campbell: "We were laughing, of course. I had been laughing at my
friend's predicament, in being left to meet a lady he'd never seen
before. You laughed at it yourself."
McIlheny: "I did, sor."
Roberts, basely truckling to him: "It was certainly a ludicrous
position."
Campbell: "And when we explained it, it amused your good lady too. She
laughed as much as yourself--"
McIlheny: "She did, sor. Ye're right. Sure it would make a cow laugh.
Well, gintlemen, ye must excuse me. Mrs. McIlheny says I mustn't stop
for the next thrain, and I'll have to ask you to join me in that glass
of wine some other toime."
Campbell: "Oh, it's all right, Mr. McIlheny. You've only got about
half a minute." He glances at the clock, and McIlheny runs out,
profusely waving his hand in adieu.
Roberts, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his forehead: "Well,
thank Heaven! we're rid of him at last."
Campbell: "I'm not so sure of that. He'll probably miss the train.
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