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"Oh, I dare say! I am not sure," says Lady Rodney, pettishly, who is rather annoyed at the idea of his going to Ireland, having other plans in view for him. She disappears, and Geoffrey, obedient to orders, lounges off to the green glade, that now no longer owns rich coloring, but is strewn with leaves from the gaunt trees that stand in solemn order like grave sentries round it. "You really will, you know," says Captain Rodney, warningly; then, as though ambitious of piling up the agony, he says, sotto voce, yet loud enough to be heard, "I wonder if Geoff will go to mass with her?".
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"No," said Kŭt-o-yĭs´. "You are saying what is not true, and I am going to kill you now." "Is it?" says she, a little wistfully. "You think so now; but if afterwards you should know regret, or——" Then the chief ghost walked out of the lodge and shouted out for a feast, inviting the man's father-in-law and other relations who were in the camp to come and eat, saying, "Your son-in-law invites you to a feast," as if he meant that the son-in-law had died and become a ghost and arrived at the camp of the ghosts. "Why, what have you to do with her?" says Ryan, addressing Rodney, a gleam of something that savors of amusement showing itself even in his ill-favored face. For an Irishman, under all circumstances, dearly loves "a courting, a bon-mot, and a broil.".
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