The Albany Depot | Page 5

off, so as to look as if I didn't belong with you? I don't want to be involved in this little row of yours unnecessarily."
Roberts: "Oh, come now, Willis! You don't think she'll make any trouble? I apologized. I said everything I could think of. She must think I was sincere."
Campbell: "In taking her for a cook? I've no doubt she did. But I don't see how that would help matters. I don't suppose she's gone for an officer; but I suspect she's looking up the largest Irishman of her acquaintance, to come back and interview you. I should advise you to go out and get on some train; I'd willingly wait here for Amy and Agnes; but you see the real cook might come here, after you went, and I shouldn't know her from Adam--or Eve. See?"
Roberts, desperately. "I see--Good heavens! Here comes that woman back; and a man with her. Willis, you must help me out." Roberts gets falteringly to his feet, and stands in helpless apprehension, while Mr. and Mrs. McIlheny bear down upon him from the door. Mr. McIlheny, a small and wiry Irishman, is a little more vivid for the refreshment he has taken. He is in his best black suit, and the silk hat which he wears at a threatening slant gives dignified impressiveness to his figure and carriage. With some dumb-show of inquiry and assurance between himself and his wife, he plants himself in front of Roberts, in an attitude equally favorable for offence and defence.

III
_THE McILHENYS, ROBERTS, AND CAMPBELL_
McIlheny: "And are ye the mahn that's after takun' my wife for yer cuke?"
Mrs. McIlheny, indicating Campbell, absorbed in his magazine: "And there's the other wan I saw jokun' wid um, and puttun' um up to it."
McIlheny, after a swift glance at Campbell's proportions and self-possession: "That's what ye're after thinkun', Mary; but I haven't got annything to do with what ye're after thinkun'. All I wannt to know is what this mahn meant by preshumin' to speak to a lady he didn't know, and takun' her for a cuke." To Roberts: "Will ye tell me that, ye--"
Roberts, in extreme embarrassment: "Yes, yes, certainly; I shall be very glad to explain, if you'll just step here to the corner. We're attracting attention where we are--"
McIlheny: "Attintion! Do ye suppose I care for attintion, when it's me wife that's been insulted?" He follows Roberts up, with Mrs. McIlheny, as he retires to the corner where she had been sitting, out of the way of the people coming and going. Campbell, after a moment, closes his magazine, and joins them.
Roberts: "Insulted? By no manner of means! Nothing was further from my thoughts. I--I--can explain it all in a moment, my dear sir, if you will have patience; I can indeed. I have the highest respect for the lady, and I'm quite incapable of offering her an affront. The fact is--I hardly know how to begin--"
McIlheny: "Go ahn, sor; or I'll have to do the beginnun' meself, pretty soon." He shifts himself from one foot to another with a saltatory briskness.
Roberts: "The fact is, my wife had engaged a cook, up-town, and she had sent her down here to meet me, and go out with me to our summer place at Weston."
McIlheny: "An' fwhat has all that rigamarole to do wid your speakin' to a lady ye'd never been inthrojuced to? Fwhat had yer wife's cuke to do with Mrs. McIlheny?"
Roberts: "Why, I didn't know the cook by sight, you see. My wife had engaged her up-town, and appointed her to meet me here, without reflecting that I had never seen her, and wouldn't know who she was, when I did see her; she partly expected to be here herself, and so I didn't reflect, either."
McIlheny, with signs of an amicable interest: "An' she lift ye to mate a lady ye never had seen before, and expicted ye to know her by soight?"
Roberts: "Precisely."
McIlheny, smiling: "Well, that's loike a wooman, Mary; ye can't say it ain't."
Mrs. McIlheny, grinning: "It's loike a mahn, too, Mike, by the same token."
McIlheny: "Sure it's no bad joke on ye, sor."
Campbell, interposing: "I was having my laugh at him when your good lady here noticed us. You see, I know his wife--she's my sister--and I could understand just how she would do such a thing, and--ah, ha, ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! I don't think I shall ever get over it."
McIlheny: "Sure it is good! Hu, hu, hu, hu! Mary, it's what ye'd call a bull, if it was Irish, I'm thinkun'; an' it's no bad bull as it is, my dear."
Mrs. McIlheny, laughing: "Ye're right there, Mike. It's as fine a bull as ever there was."
Campbell: "And my friend here insisted on going over and speaking to the lady, in