"Well, well, well," Riley repeated, coming down to earth again, and seating himself upon a near-by chair not required for James's feet, which the host had been too preoccupied to think of offering. "Things is comin' good f'r ye, ain't they, Jimmie?"
The old man had discovered a fact which James had no desire to dispute, so he admitted it graciously, at the same time blowing clouds of smoke from his over-fragrant cigar.
"They is," he replied, sententiously; "and soon they'll be comin' better still."
"Ah, Jimmie"--the old man lowered his voice--"are ye goin' ter run f'r mayor?"
"Not--yet," James replied, dwelling upon his words in such a way as to convince his hearer that the delay was wholly a matter of his own convenience. "Politics is movin' some, father, but 'tis in my private capacity that I'm makin' my present strides."
"So," murmured Riley; "an' phwat may ye'er private capacity be, Jimmie?"
"'Tis of a confidential nature," he replied, loftily.
"Who is th' others?" the old man persisted.
"That's my affair. 'Tis confidential, I tell you."
"Not wid me, Jimmie," Riley begged; "not when I've watched over Misther Robert iver sence he was a little la-ad, not wid me when I've brought ye up fr'm a howlin' little brat. There can't be nothin' confidential, I tell ye, when it's affectin' thim I loves best in all th' whole wide world. Shure ye'll tell me about it, Jimmie, shure ye will."
In James's present mood, it was easier to talk than to keep silent. If his father really knew the importance of the part he felt himself to be playing in Mr. Gorham's family complication, the old man's appreciation of his son's true position in the community could not fail to be enhanced. James Riley's most vulnerable point was his vanity, and the present opportunity to gratify it was more than he could well resist. The elder Riley, without having analyzed his son's characteristics to this extent, was intuitively conscious of a yielding to his appeal, and he was not slow to follow it up.
"That's th' good la-ad, Jimmie," he said, coaxingly. "Ye knows how tight I keeps me mouth shut; an' phwat hits ye or Misther Robert hits me."
"Well," James replied, indulgently, blowing another cloud of smoke--"'tis his wife that it's all about."