“Well, Dunn,” cried he, gayly, one morning, as he entered the carefully darkened room where the other sat, surrounded with papers and deep in affairs, “I think you may accept your bill of health, and come out of dock tomorrow. They are gazetted now, and the world as wise as yourself.” “So I mean to do,” said Dunn. “I intend to dine with the Chancellor. What is said about the new Government?” “Very little. There is really little to say. They are nearly the same pieces, only placed differently on the board. This trumpery cry about 'right men in right places' will lead to all kinds of confusion, since it will eternally suggest choice, which, in plain words, means newspaper dictation.” “As good as any other dictation: better in one respect, for it so often recants its judgments,” said Dunn, sarcastically. “Well, they are unanimous about _you_ this morning. They are all eagerly inquiring in what way the Government propose to recognize the services of one of the ablest men and most disinterested patriots of our day.” “I don't want anything from them,” said Dunn, testily, and walking to the window to avoid the keen, sharp glance the other bent upon him. “The best way to get it when you _do_ want,” said Dash-wood. “By the way, what's our new Viceroy like?” “A very good appointment, indeed,” said Dunn, gravely. “Oh, I don't mean that. I want to know what he is personally: is he stiff, haughty, grave, gay, stand-off, or affable?” “I should say, from what I have seen of Lord Allington, that he is one of those men who are grave without sadness--” “Come, come, never mind the antithesis; does he care for society, does he like sport, is he free-handed, or has he only come here with the traditional policy to 'drain Ireland'?” “You 'll like him much,” said Dunn, in his natural voice, “and he 'll like _you_.” Sir Maurice smiled, as though to say, “I could answer as much for myself;” and then asked, “Have you known him long?” “No; that is, not very long,” said Dunn, hesitating, “nor very intimately. Why do you ask?” “Just because I want to get something,--at once too. There's a poor fellow, a patient of mine now,--we were brother officers once,--in a very sad way. Your friends of the Encumbered Court have Just been selling him out, and by the shock they have so stunned him that his brain has been attacked; at present it does not seem so formidable, but it will end in softening, and all the rest of it. Now, if they 'd make him something at once,--quickly it must be,--he could drop out on some small retired allowance,--anything, in short, that would support him.” “But what is it to be?” asked Dunn. “Whatever you like to make him. It can scarcely be a bishop, for he's not in orders; nor a judge, for he was not called to the bar; but why not a commissioner of something? You have them for all purposes and of all degrees.” “You take a low estimate of commissionerships, I perceive,” said Dunn, smiling.