At a little before this time a sufficiently epoch-making scene had
taken place between Dr. Mangan and his daughter, following not long on
that day when the elephant had conveyed his captive to the depths of
the jungle.
"Tishy!" said the Big Doctor, looming large at the door of the
dining-room where his daughter was engaged in trimming a hat, "come
down to the surgery a minute; I want you."
The feather to which Miss Mangan had just imparted the correct "set,"
was only fixed in position with a precarious pin, none the less,
Tishy, albeit vexed, did not delay. She had a well-founded respect for
the Fifth Commandment, as far, at all events, as her father was
concerned. She abandoned the hat, and followed the Doctor through the
narrow hall-passage and into the surgery, with a promptness that she
was not wont to exhibit in obeying an order that was not convenient.
Dr. Mangan had seated himself at his desk, and was writing. Tishy
stood by the seat dedicated to patients; she wished to imply that she
had been interrupted in her work, and that her time was of value.
"There now," said Dr. Mangan, thumping the envelope that he had just
closed and directed, on the blotting-paper, with his big fist, "I want
you to run round to Hallinan's with this for me."
"Is it a hurry?" asked Tishy, unwillingly.
"It is. It's to order rooms for Larry Coppinger. He's coming to stay
in town till the election's over. Sit down there a minute."
Tishy obeyed, and the Doctor surveyed her attentively. The position
that is assigned to patients in a doctor's consulting room is one that
faces the light, pitilessly, inescapably; but for Tishy, this was a
negligible disadvantage. A peacock butterfly looks its best in
sunlight, and Tishy's dark bloom, and intent eyes of luminous grey,
faced the glare of October sunlight with confident unconcern.
"A right-down handsome girl!" he had called her, to himself, more
than-once; now, he thought, she had good looks enough for any man in
Europe. It was not his habit to betray his feelings; but as he sat
there, appraising her, weighing her beauty, as a jeweller might
appraise some rich-hued ruby that a kind fate had placed in his hands,
sheer pride in her made him smile, and he was hard put to it to keep
up the severity that he believed the occasion exacted.
"I've a couple of things to say to you," he resumed, "and you know as
well as I do that I've no fancy for saying things twice. I've seen Ned
Cloherty sneaking about the Mall very often lately--like as if he was
waiting for somebody. I'm not saying it's for you or me he's waiting;
you might know that better than I do. But he's no great ornament to
the view there, or anywhere else, as far as I can see!"
Tishy put her strong, rounded chin in the air, and said, "I suppose
other people have a right to use the roads as well as us!"
The Doctor was glad that his face was shadowed, as he noted the
arrogant tilt of her head, and the smooth, cream-white pillar of her
neck that it revealed, since the smile of paternal pride would not be
denied. He didn't blame Ned Cloherty to be sneaking about after her;
there wasn't her like in the county. But she very certainly was too
good for the likes of Ned Cloherty. "Now, Babsey," he said, and Tishy
knew that the old pet name denoted a satisfaction with her that might
not otherwise betray itself, "you're a sensible girl, and I needn't go
out of my way to tell you things that you're smart enough to see for
yourself. You're 'pert enough without Latin'--as they say! Well, I'll
just say one other thing to you, and it's this. Larry Coppinger's up
for this election, and I've told him to use this house, like his own,
as much as he wants to," the Doctor stood up and took a pocket-book
from the breast-pocket of his coat. "You're to make it agreeable for
him to come here. Mind that! And more than agreeable! I'll think very
little of you if you don't have him at your feet before you're done
with him!" he went on, selecting something from among the papers in
the pocket-book as he spoke. "There's not a girl in Ireland that
wouldn't half hang herself for the chance you'll have! And there's not
a girl in Cluhir but will be gibeing you if you lose it!" He took a
step towards where Tishy was sitting, and put his hand under his chin.
Her bright water-grey eyes were alight with mutiny; she laughed
defiantly.
"Suppose I don't want it!"
Her father looked steadily at her; he saw, as clearly as if she had
spoken, that the suggestion had excited her.
"Well, Babs," he said, with the laugh that always seemed an octave
higher than matched with his voice, "if you're able to bring him to
your feet--and I'm not saying you will! You might find it a bit of a
job too!--you'll want a dandy pair of shoes on them! Put this in your
pocket."
He had taken a ten-pound note out of his pocket-book, and he pushed it
into Tishy's strong and supple white hand.