John paid numerous visits to his constituency; but
he was now such an important personage that his relatives hardly saw
him. As likely as not he was the guest of the Henry Ococks in their new
mansion, or of the mayor of the borough. In the past two years Mahony
had only twice exchanged a word with his brother-in-law.
And then they met again.
In Melbourne, at six o'clock one January morning, the Honourable John,
about to enter a saloon-compartment of the Ballarat train, paused, with
one foot on the step, and disregarding the polite remarks of the
station-master at his heels, screwed up his prominent black eyes against
the sun. At the farther end of the train, a tall, thin, fair-whiskered
man was peering disconsolately along a row of crowded carriages. "God
bless me! isn't that . . . Why, so it is!" And leaving the official
standing, John walked smartly down the platform.
"My dear Mahony!--this is indeed a surprise. I had no idea you were in
town."
"Why not have let me know you proposed coming?" he inquired as they made
their way, the train meanwhile held up on their account, towards John's
spacious, reserved saloon.
("What he means is, why I didn't beg a pass of him.") And Mahony, who
detested asking favours, laid exaggerated emphasis on his want of
knowledge. He had not contemplated the journey till an hour beforehand.
Then, the proposed delegate having been suddenly taken ill, he had been
urgently requested to represent the Masonic Lodge to which he belonged,
at the Installation of a new Grand Master.
Pages:
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468