‘I see here,’ cried he, ‘his Excellency is good enough to say that some mark of royal favour might be advantageously extended to those Kilgobbin people, in recognition of their heroic defence. What should it be, is the question.’ ‘Confer on him the peerage, perhaps.’ ‘That is totally out of the question.’ ‘It was Kate Kearney made the defence; why not give her a commission in the army?--make it another “woman’s right.”’ ‘You are absurd, Mr. Atlee.’ ‘Suppose you endowed her out of the Consolidated Fund? Give her twenty thousand pounds, and I can almost assure you that a very clever fellow I know will marry her.’ ‘A strange reward for good conduct.’ ‘A prize of virtue. They have that sort of thing in France, and they say it gives a great support to purity of morals.’ ‘Young Kearney might accept something, if we knew what to offer him.’ ‘I’d say a pair of black trousers; for I think I’m now wearing his last in that line.’ ‘Mr. Atlee,’ said the other grimly, ‘let me remind you once again, that the habit of light jesting--_persiflage_--is so essentially Irish, you should keep it for your countrymen; and if you persist in supposing the career of a private secretary suits you, this is an incongruity that will totally unfit you for the walk.’ ‘I am sure you know your countrymen, sir, and I am grateful for the rebuke.’ Walpole’s cheek flushed at this, and it was plain that there was a hidden meaning in the words which he felt, and resented. ‘I do not know,’ continued Walpole, ‘if I am not asking you to curb one of the strongest impulses of your disposition; but it rests entirely with yourself whether my counsel be worth following.’ ‘Of course it is, sir. I shall follow your advice to the letter, and keep all my good spirits and my bad manners for my countrymen.’ It was evident that Walpole had to exercise some strong self-control not to reply sharply; but he refrained, and turned once more to Lord Danesbury’s letter, in which he was soon deeply occupied. At last he said: ‘His Excellency wants to send me out to Turkey to confer with a man with whom he has some confidential relations. It is quite impossible that, in my present state of health, I could do this. Would the thing suit you, Atlee--that is, if, on consideration, I should opine that _you_ would suit _it_?’ ‘I suspect,’ replied Atlee, but with every deference in his manner, ‘if you would entertain the last part of the contingency first, it would be more convenient to each of us. I mean whether I were fit for the situation.’ ‘Well, perhaps so,’ said the other carelessly; ‘it is not at all impossible, it may be one of the things you would acquit yourself well in. It is a sort of exercise for tact and discretion--an occasion in which that light hand of yours would have a field for employment, and that acute skill in which I know you pride yourself as regards reading character--’ ‘You have certainly piqued my curiosity,’ said Atlee.