Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon - BestLightNovel.com
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"Then you were not always a doctor?" said I.
"Upon my conscience, I wasn't," said he. "When Shaugh knew me first, I was the Adonis of the Roscommon militia, with more heiresses in my list than any man in the regiment; but Shaugh and myself were always unlucky."
"Poor Mrs. Rogers!" said the major, pathetically, drinking off his gla.s.s and heaving a profound sigh.
"Ah, the darling!" said the doctor. "If it wasn't for a jug of punch that lay on the hall table, our fortune in life would be very different."
"True for you, Maurice!" quoth O'Shaughnessy.
"I should like much to hear that story," said I, pus.h.i.+ng the jug briskly round.
"He'll tell it you," said O'Shaughnessy, lighting his cigar, and leaning pensively back against a tree,--"he'll tell it you."
"I will, with pleasure," said Maurice. "Let Mr. Free, meantime, amuse himself with the punch-bowl, and I'll relate it."
END OF VOLUME I.
