When the cloth had been removed, and my mother had retired, the Colonel reverted to the first grand movement in my life, on which he descanted most learnedly; and, a little military pedantry apart, his advice and opinions were sound and soldierly. He reprobated play--gave serious warnings against debt--discouraged gallantry, and inculcated the necessity of duelling. He lamented, in the course of his harangue, the loss of my ancient preceptor Father Dominic; to himself, he stated, that the loss was irreparable--he could not, unfortunately, drink the left hand against the right, nor uncork a bottle without being bothered by a d----d servant. He complained that he felt a twinge in his infirm shoulder--well, that was rheumatism; he had also an obnubilation in his eyes--but that was bile; it could not be what he drank:--by the way, he had two bottles of Page’s best in.--He should go to bed--exhorted me to be up at cock-crow--gave me some parting admonitions--an order on a Dublin tailor for an outfit--a bundle of country bank-notes--his blessing into the bargain--shook my hand--and, with the assistance of Sergeant Brady, toddled off to his apartment.
The Commander was scarcely gone, when Susan’s black eye peered into the room cautiously, to ascertain that all was quiet.
“Hist! Master Hector! Is the Colonel gone to bed?”
“He’s safe for the night, my fair Susan. The house is all our own. Come in--shut the door, for I want to confess you.”
“And finish the godly exercise you commenced in the flower-garden! No, no, Master Hector; no more of that. Come, your mother wants to see you alone--I’ll light you to her dressing-room.”
I attended the _demoiselle_ immediately, and was inducted to her lady’s chamber. When the door opened I found her seated at a work-table, with a book of religious exercises and a huge rosary before her. Bursting into tears, she clasped me to her bosom, and muttered in an under voice, “Sit down, Hector--many months have elapsed since we met, and many more may probably pass over before we meet again. And so they have destined you for that horrible profession--and you are going to-morrow?”
“Well, Hector, will you in one thing oblige me, and grant your mother a request?”