Yet he had nothing of either the parson
or the preacher in his appearance. So far from that he was seldom known
to wear a black coat, unless when dressed for dinner, and not very
frequently even then, for he mostly wore blue.
"M'Mahon," said he, "take a seat. I am glad to see you. How are your
family?"
"Both I an' they is well, I'm thankful to you, sir," replied the farmer.
"I hope you got safe home from the metropolis. How did you travel?"
"Troth, I walked it, sir, every inch of the way, an' a long stretch it
is. I got safe, sir, an' many thanks to you."
"That was a sudden call poor Mr. Chevydale got, but not more so than
might, at his time of life, have been expected; at all events I hope he
was prepared for it, and indeed I have reason to think he was."
"I trust in God he was, sir," replied M'Mahon; "so far as I and mine
is consarned, we have raison to wish it; he didn't forget us, Mr.
Fethertonge."
"No," said the other, after some pause, "he did not indeed forget you,
M'Mahon."
"I tuck the liberty of callin' down, sir," proceeded M'Mahon, "about
the leases he spoke of, an' to know how soon we may expect to have them
filled."
"That is for your son Bryan and yourself. How is Bryan proceeding with
Ahadarra, by the way? I spoke to him some time ago about his system of
cropping that farm, and some other matters of the kind; I must ride up
one of these days to see how he is doing.
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