But as your lordship is a stranger in this country, you may be pardoned; and I will make you better acquainted with him. I suppose you know there are many Tooles in Ireland; some very ancient, respectable, and useful: this, however, is but a mere political tool, and the worst of all tools, a cat’s paw. There’s one thing to the credit of these brothers, they agree vastly well; for one delights in being always on the stage, and the other always behind the scenes. These brothers, with Captain Andrews--I hope they are none of them within hearing--form a charming trio, all admirable in their way. My Lord O’Toole is--artifice without art. My Lord Kilrush--importance without power. And Captain Andrews--pliability without ease. Poor Andrews! he’s a defenceless animal--safe in impenetrable armour. Give him but time--as a man said, who once showed me a land-tortoise--give him but time to draw his head into his shell, and a broad-wheeled waggon may go over him without hurting him. Lord Glenthorn, did you ever observe Captain Andrews’s mode of conversation?” “No; I never heard him converse.” “Converse! nor I indeed; but you have heard him talk.” “I have heard him say--_Very true_--and _Of course_.” “Lord Glenthorn is quite severe this evening,” said Mrs. O’Connor. “But though your lordship,” continued Lady Geraldine, “may have observed Captain Andrews’s wonderful economy of words, do you know whence it arises? Perhaps you think from his perception of his own want of understanding.” “Not from his perception of the want,” said I. “Again! again!” said Mrs. O’Connor, with an insulting tone of surprise; “Lord Glenthorn’s quite witty this evening.” Lady Geraldine looked as if she were fully sensible of the want of politeness in Mrs. O’Connor’s mode of praising. “But, my lord,” pursued she, “you wrong Captain Andrews, if you attribute his monosyllabic replies either to stupidity or timidity. You have not guessed the reason why he never gives on any subject more than half an opinion.” “It was in the diplomatic school he was taught that art,” said Mr. Devereux. “You must know,” pursued Lady Geraldine, “that Captain Andrews is only an aide-de-camp till a diplomatic situation can be found for him; and to do him justice, he has been so well trained in the diplomatic school, that he will not hazard an assertion on any subject; he is not certain of any thing, not even of his own identity.” “He assuredly wants,” said Devereux, “the only proof of existence which Descartes would admit--_I think_, therefore I am.” “He has such a holy horror of committing himself,” continued Lady Geraldine, “that if you were to ask him if the sun rose this morning, he would answer, with his sweet smile--_So I am told_--or--_So I am informed_.”