Either Sir Harry thought he had said a smart thing, or that the theme suggested something that tickled his fancy, for he smiled pleasantly now on Tony, and looked far better tempered than before. Indeed, Tony laughed at the abrupt peroration, and that laugh did him no disservice. “Well, now, Butler, what are we to do with you?” resumed the Minister, good-humoredly. “It's not easy to find the right thing, but I 'll talk it over with Darner. Give him your address, and drop in upon him occasionally,--not too often, but now and then, so that he should n't forget you. Meanwhile brush up your French and Italian. I 'm glad you know Italian.” “But I do not, sir; not a syllable of the language.” “Oh, it was German, then? Don't interrupt me. Indeed, let me take the occasion to impress upon you that you have this great fault of manners,--a fault I have remarked prevalent among Irishmen, and which renders them excessively troublesome in the House, and brings them frequently under the reproof of the Speaker. If you read the newspapers, you will have seen this yourself.” Second to a censure of himself, the severest thing for poor Tony to endure was any sneer at his countrymen; but he made a great effort to remain patient, and did not utter a word. “Mind,” resumed the Minister, “don't misunderstand me. I do not say that your countrymen are deficient in quickness and a certain ready-witted way of meeting emergencies. Yes, they have that as well as some other qualities of the same order; but these things won't make statesmen. This was an old battle-ground between your father and myself thirty years ago. Strange to think I should have to fight over the same question with his son now.” Tony did not exactly perceive what was his share in the conflict, but he still kept silence. “Your father was a clever fellow, too, and he had a brother,--a much cleverer, by the way; there 's the man to serve you,--Sir Omerod Butler. He 's alive, I know, for I saw his pension certificate not a week ago. Have you written to him?” “No, sir. My father and my uncle were not on speaking terms for years, and it is not likely I would appeal to Sir Omerod for assistance.” “The quarrel, or coolness, or whatever it was, might have been the fault of your father.” “No, sir, it was not.” “Well, with that I have no concern. All that I know is, your uncle is a man of a certain influence--at least with his own party--which is not ours. He is, besides, rich; an old bachelor, too, if I 'm not mistaken; and so it might be worth the while of a young fellow who has his way to make in life, to compromise a little of his family pride.” “I don't think so: I won't do it,” broke in Tony, hotly. “If you have no other counsel to give me than one you never would have given to my father, all I have to say is, I wish I had spared myself the trouble, and my poor mother the cost of this journey.”