‘Pshaw!’ muttered Ulick; then resumed, ‘Aye, Mr. Kendal brought in the doctor upon me--very kind of him--but I do assure you ‘tis nothing but home sickness; I was nearly as bad when I went to St. Columba, but I got over it then, and I will again!’ ‘It may be so in part,’ said Albinia, kindly; ‘but let me be impertinent, Ulick, for my sister Winifred told me to look after you; surely you give it every provocation. Such a change of habits is enough to make any one ill. Should you not ask your uncle for a holiday, and go home for a little while?’ ‘Don’t name it, I beg of you,’ cried the poor lad in an agitated voice, ‘it would only bring it all over again! I’ve promised my mother to do my part, and with His help I _will_! Let the columns run out to all eternity, and the figures crook themselves as spitefully as they will, I’ve vowed to myself not to stir till I’ve got the better of the villains!’ ‘Ah!’ said Albinia, ‘they have blackened your eyes like the bruises of material antagonists! Yes, it is a gallant battle, but indeed you must give yourself all the help you can, for it would be doing your mother no good to fall ill.’ ‘I’ve no fears,’ said Ulick; ‘I know very well what is the matter with me, and that if I don’t give way, it will go off in time. You’ve given it a good shove with your kindness, Mrs. Kendal,’ he added, with deep emotion in his sensitive voice; ‘only you must not talk of my going home, or you’ll undo all you have done.’ ‘Then I won’t; we must try to make you a home here. And in the first place, those lodgings of yours; you can never be comfortable in them.’ ‘Ah! you saw my fire smoking. I never shall learn to make a coal fire burn.’ ‘Not only that,’ said Albinia, ‘but you might easily find rooms much better furnished, and fitter for you.’ ‘I do assure you,’ exclaimed Ulick, ‘you scarcely saw it! Why, I don’t think there’s a room at the big house in better order, or so good!’ ‘At least,’ said Albinia, repressing her deduction as to the big house of Ballymakilty, ‘you have no particular love for the locality--the river smell--the stock of good leather, &c.’ ‘It’s all Bayford and town smell together,’ said Ulick; ‘I never thought one part worse than another, begging your pardon, Mrs. Kendal.’ ‘And I am sure,’ she continued, ‘that woman can never make your meals comfortable. Yes, I see I am right, and I assure you hard head-work needs good living, and you will never be a match for the rogues in black and white without good beef-steaks. Now confess whether she gives you dinners of old shoe-leather.’ ‘A man can’t sit down to dinner by himself,’ cried Ulick, impatiently. ‘Tea with a book are all that is bearable.’ ‘And you never go out--never see any one.’ ‘I dine at my uncle’s every Sunday,’ said Ulick. ‘Is that all the variety you have?’