Ask Purcell what's vacant in K. I.'s line? which, you may say, goes from Lunatic Asylums to the Court of Chancery. I don't want James to have an Irish appointment, but he says there's something in Gambia--wherever that is--that he'd like.
As, of course, K. I. and myself can never live together again, it would be very convenient if he was to get something that would require him to stay in Ireland,--either a suspensory magistrate or a place in Newgate would do. You 'll wonder at my troubling myself about a man that behaved as he did; and, indeed, I wonder at myself for it; and what I say is, maybe this might happen, maybe the other, and I 'd be sorry afterwards; and if he was to be taken away suddenly, I 'd like to be sure to have my mind easy, and in a happy frame.
Isn't it dreadful to think that it's about these things my letter is filled, while all the enjoyment in life is going on about me? There's the band underneath my window playing the Railroad Polka, and the crowd round them is princesses and duchesses and countesses, all so elegantly dressed, and looking so sweet and amiable. Every minute the door opens, with an invitation for this or that, or maybe a nosegay of beautiful flowers that a prince with a wonderful name has sent to Mary Anne. And here 's a man with the most tempting jewelry from Vienna, and another with lace and artificial flowers; and all for nothing, Molly, or next to nothing,--if one had a trifle to spend on them. And so we might, too, if K. I. had n't behaved this way.
There's to be a grand ball to-night at the Rooms, and Mary Anne is come to me about her dress; for one thing here is indispensable,--you must never appear twice in the same. For the life of me, I don't know what they do with the old gowns, but Mary Anne and myself has a stock already that would set up a moderate mantua-maker. As to shoes, and gloves too, a second night out of them is impossible, though Mary Anne tries to wear them at small tea-parties. Speaking of this, I must say that girl will be a treasure to the man that gets her; for she has so many ways of turning things to account: there 's not an old lace veil, nor a bit of net, nor even a flower, that she can't find use for, somewhere or other. As to Caroline, she looks like a poor governess; there's no taste nor style whatever about her; and as to a bit of ribbon round her throat, or a cheap brooch, she never wears one! I tell her every day, "You 're a Dodd, my dear,--a regular Dodd. You have no more of the M'Carthy in you than if you never saw me." And, indeed, she takes after the father in everything. She has a dry, sneering way about whatever is genteel or high-bred, and the same liking for anything low and common; but, after all, I 'm lucky to have Mary Anne and James what they are! There 's no position in life that they 're not equal to; and if I 'm not greatly mistaken, it's in the very highest rank they 'll settle down at last This opinion of mine, Molly, is the best and shortest answer I can give to what you ask me in your last letter,--"What's the use of going abroad?" But, indeed, your question--as Lord George remarked, when I told him of it--is, "What's the use of civilization? What's the use of clothes? What's the use of cooked victuals?" You'll say, perhaps, that you have all these in Ireland; and I'll tell you, just as flatly, You have not. You stare with surprise, but I repeat to you, You have not.