“Yes, me lady,” replied Patsy. He had a mortal terror of the trumpet, he had never seen one before. He half imagined that she used it because she was so grand that it would be beneath her dignity to listen to people in the ordinary way. “What did you say?” asked she. Patsy imagined he had not spoken loud enough. “Yes, me lady!” he shouted. “_What_ do you say?” cried her ladyship. “Yes, me lady!” cried Patsy, nearly blubbering. “I don’t know which way to be answerin’ you, with her behint me tellin’ me to say one thing and me wantin’ to say another. Me name’s Patsy Rooney, and it’s wishin’ it’s at the divil I was!” Fortunately Lady Seagrave could not catch the end of the sentence, but she made out the name. “Patsy Rooney,” said she. “Well, we will call you Patsy for short. Are you a good boy, Patsy?” “Yes, me lady,” replied he. “And you would like to enter my service?” “Yes, me lady.” “Your father is alive and your mother is dead, I hear. I hope you have no evil companions in the village, for young boys left to their own resources, as you have no doubt been, often pick up most undesirable acquaintances.” “No, me lady,” replied Patsy in a faltering voice, for he recalled to mind Con Cogan and Paddy Murphy and the promise he had made them to help them to get into the Big House and steal the jewellery of the “quality.” And here he was in the Big House, and going to be hired as page-boy—it seemed like fate. “Do you smoke?” went on her ladyship. “Now an’ again, mum—I mean, yes, me lady.” “_What!_” cried Lady Seagrave. “Do you dare to tell me that a boy of your tender years indulges in that vile and pernicious habit?” “Sure, it’s only the draw of a pipe I do be takin’ to aise me mind now and thin,” cried Patsy, “or when I’m out rabbitin’ in the woods alone, for they do say the whiff of a pipe keeps off the Good People.” “The Good People?” said the old lady. “Who are they?” “The fairies, mum—I mean, me lady.” “Dear me,” said Lady Seagrave, “I thought no one believed in such rubbish as fairies nowadays. Well, Patsy Rooney, I will hire you for a month to see if you give satisfaction, and if you don’t you will receive a whipping and be turned away.” “Leave him to me, your ladyship,” said Mrs Kinsella, as she led Patsy away. “I’ll answer for him giving satisfaction when I’ve belted the fairies and rubbish out of him with a strap.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VII MRS FINNEGAN’S BOY “Mrs Kinsella, ma’am,” said Patsy, as he was led along the corridor back to the kitchen, “Mrs Kinsella, ma’am, what’s a page-boy?”