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CASTLE RACKRENT
AND
THE ABSENTEE
BY
MARJA EDGEWORTH






Cbe Einglisb
Comeble ibumalne
Masterpieces of the great
English novelists in which
are portrayed the varying
aspects of English life from
the time of Addison to the
present day: a series analogous to that in which
Balzac depicted the manners and morals of his
French contemporaries.










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'Love to sit on, my knee whilst I tol1d him, stpries.'




-ub tEngItb Com Ziee fumatne
CASTLE RACKRENT
BY
MARIA EDGEWORTH


NEW YORK
Cbe ZCnturp Co,
1903






Copyright, 1903, by
THE CENTURY CO.
Publisked, C0eober, jq03
o.V




PUBLISHERS' NOTE
MARIA EDGEWORTH, famous as a delineator of Irish character,
was of English birth, though of Irish descent, being born at Black
Bourton in Oxfordshire in 1767. Her early education also was English; but in her sixteenth year her father returned to Ireland to
reside, taking her with him, and thereafter her home was at
Edgeworthtown in County Longford, where she died in 1849.
She is perhaps even better known as a writer of stories for children
-stories which have retained in large measure their popularitythan as a novelist.
Her most notable tale was also the first published-" Castle
Rackrent," issued in 1 Soo-a story based upon facts, and depicting;
the manners and methods of the Irish squire of the middle of
the eighteenth century. It at once became famous and has become established among the masterpieces of fiction. It abounds
in wit, graphic narration, and keen insight into the Irish national ~
character. "1It is a page torn from the national history of Ireland,
inimitable, peren nially delightful, equally humorous and pathetic,
holding up with shrewd wit and keen perception " both the follies
and the virtues which have made that history what it has been.
Among her later works, the most important are the "1Tales from
Fashionable Life," among which is "1The Absentee," published in
1812. Each of these tales-which have been regarded as the earliest examples of ".the novel with a purpose "-was written to enforce a moral, but they are not the less charming for their didacticism. " The Absentee," in particular, is a masterpiece worthy
to be placed beside "1Castle Rackrent."








PREFACE


THE prevailing taste of the public for anecdote has been
censured and ridiculed by critics who aspire to the character of superior wisdom; but if we consider it in a proper
point of view, this taste is an incontestable proof of the
good sense and profoundly philosophic temper of the
present times.  Of the numbers who study, or at least
who read history, how few derive any advantage from their
labours! The heroes of history are so decked out by
the fine fancy of the professed historian; they talk in such
measured prose, and act from such sublime or such diabolical motives, that few have sufficient taste, wickedness,
or heroism, to sympathise in their fate. Besides, there is
much uncertainty even in the best authenticated ancient or
modern histories; and that love of truth, which in some
minds is innate and immutable, necessarily leads to a love
of secret memoirs and private anecdotes. We cannot judge
either of the feelings or of the characters of men with perfect accuracy, from their actions or their appearance in
public; it is from their careless conversations, their halffinished sentences, that we may hope with the greatest
probability of success to discover their real characters.
The life of a great or of a little man written by himself,
the familiar letters, the diary of any individual published
by his friends or by his enemies, after his decease, are
esteemed important literary curiosities. We are surely(
justified, in this eager desire, to collect the most minute
facts relative to the domestic lives, not only of the great
and good, but even of the worthless and insignificant, since
it is only by a comparison of their actual happiness or
misery in the privacy of domestic life that we can form a
Vii




PREFACE


just estimate of the real reward of virtue, or the real punishment of vice. That the great are not as happy as they
seem, that the external circumstances of fortune and rank
do not constitute felicity, is asserted by every moralist:
the historian can seldom, consistently with his dignity,
pause to illustrate this truth; it is therefore to the biographer we must have recourse. After we have beheld
splendid characters playing their parts on the great theatre
of the world, with a411 the advantages of stage effect and
decoration, we anxiously beg to be admitted behind the
scenes, that we may take a nearer view of the actors and
actresses.
Some may perhaps imagine that the value of biography
depends upon the judgment and taste of the biographer;
but on the contrary it may be maintained, that the merits
of a biographer are inversely as the extent of his intellectual
powers and of his literary talents. A plain unvarnished
tale is preferable to the most highly ornamented narrative.
Where we see that aý man has the power, we may naturally
suspect that he has the will to deceive us; and those who
are used to literary manufacture know how much is often
sacrificed to the rounding of a period, or the pointing of
an antithesis.
That the ignorant may have their prejudices as well as
the learned cannot be disputed; but we see and despise
vulgar errors: we never bow to the authority of him who
has no great name to sanction his absurdities. The partiality which blinds a biographer to the defects of his hero,
in proportion as it is gross, ceases to be dangerous; but if
it be concealed by the appearance of candour, which men
of great abilities best know how to assume, it endangers
our judgment sometimes, and sometimes our morals. If
her Grace the Duchess of Newcastle, instead of penning
her lord's elaborate eulogium, had undertaken to write the
life of Savage, we should not have been in any danger of
mistaking an idle, ungrateful libertine for a man of genius
viii




PREFACE


and virtue. The talents of a biographer are often fatal to
his reader. For these reasons the public often judiciously
countenance those who, without sagacity to discriminate
character, without elegance of style to relieve the tediousness of narrative, without enlargement of mind to draw
any conclusions from the facts they relate, simply pour
forth anecdotes, and retail conversations, with all the
minute prolixity of a gossip in a country town.
The author of the following Memoirs has upon these
grounds fair claims to the public favour and attention; he
was an illiterate old steward, whose partiality to the family,
in which he was bred and born, must be obvious to the
reader. He tells the history of the Rackrent family in his
vernacular idiom, and in the full confidence that Sir Patrick,
Sir Murtagh, Sir Kit, and Sir Condy Rackrent's affairs will
be as interesting to all the world as they were to himself.
Those who were acquainted with the manners of a certain
class of the gentry of Ireland some years ago, will want no
evidence of the truth of honest Thady's narrative; to those
who are totally unacquainted with Ireland, the following
Memoirs will perhaps be scarcely intelligible, or probably
they may appear perfectly incredible. For the information
of the ignorant English reader, a few notes have been subjoined by the editor, and he had it once in contemplation
to translate the language of Thady into plain English; but
Thady's idiom is incapable of translation, and, besides, the
authenticity of his story would have been more exposed
to doubt if it were not told in his own characteristic manner. Several years ago he related to the editor the history
of the Rackrent family, and it was with some difficulty that
he was persuaded to have it committed to writing; however, his feelings for " thc honour of t/ic family," as he expressed himself, prevailed over his habitual laziness, and he
at length completed the narrative which is now laid before
the public.
The editor hopes his readers will observe that these are
ix




PREFACE


"tales of other times "; that the manners depicted in the
following pages are not those of the present age; the race
of the Rackrents has long since been extinct in Ireland;
and the drunken Sir Patrick, the litigious Sir Murtagh, the
fighting Sir Kit, and the slovenly Sir Condy, are characters
which could no more be met with at present in Ireland,
than Squire Western or Parson Trulliber in England.
There is a time when individuals can bear to be rallied for
their past follies and absurdities, after they have acquired
new habits and a new consciousness. Nations, as well as
individuals, gradually lose attachment to their identity,
and the present generation is amused, rather than offended,
by the ridicule that is thrown upon its ancestors.
Probably we shall soon have it in our power, in a hundred instances, to verify the truth of these'observations.
When Ireland loses her identity by an union with Great
Britain, she will look back, with a smile of good-humoured
complacency, on the Sir Kits and Sir Condys of her former
existence.
i8oo.


x




CASTLE RACKRENT








CASTLE RACKRENT
Monday Morning.'
HAVING, out of friendship for the family, upon whose
estate, praised be Heaven! I and mine have lived
rent-free time out of mind, voluntarily undertaken
to publish the MEMOIRS OF THE RACKRENT FAMILY, I
think it my duty to say a few words, in the first place, concerning myself. My real name is Thady Quirk, though in
the family I have always been known by no other than
"Honest Thady," afterward, in the time of Sir Murtagh,
deceased, I remember to hear them calling me "Old
Thady," and now I've come to "Poor Thady"; for I wear
a long greatcoat2 winter and summer, which is very handy,
SSee Glossary.
SThe cloak, or mantle, as described by Thady, is of high antiquity.
Spenser, in his View of the State of Ireland, proves that it is not, as some
have imagined, peculiarly derived from the Scythians, but that " most nations of the world anciently used the mantle; for the Jews used it, as you
may read of Elias's mantle, etc.; the Chaldees also used it, as you may read
in Diodorus; the Egyptians likewise used it, as you may read in Herodotus,
and may be gathered by the description of Berenice in the Greek Commentary
upon Callimachus; the Greeks also used it anciently, as appeared by Venus's
mantle lined with stars, though afterward they changed the form thereof into
their cloaks, called Pallai, as some of the Irish also use; and the ancient
Latins and Romans used it, as you may read in Virgil, who was a great antiquary, that Evander, when /Eneas came to him at his feast, did entertain
and feast him sitting on the ground, and lying on mantles: insomuch that he
useth the very word mantile for a mantle' Humi mantilia sternunt:'
so that it seemeth that the mantle was a general habit to most nations, and
not proper to the Scythians only."
Spenser knew the convenience of the said mantle, as housing, bedding,
and clothing:
" Iren. Because the commodity doth not countervail the discommodity;
for the inconveniences which thereby do arise are much more many; for it is
a fit house for an outlaw, a meet bed for a rebel, and an apt cloak for a thief.
First, the outlaw being, for his many crimes and villanies, banished from the
I




CASTLE RACKRENT


as I never put my arms into the sleeves; they are as good
as new, though come Holantide next I've had it these
seven years: it holds on by a single button round my
neck, cloak fashion. To look at me, you would hardly
think "Poor Thady" was the father of Attorney Quirk; he
is a high gentleman, and never minds what poor Thady
says, and having better than fifteen hundred a year, landed
estate, looks down upon honest Thady; but I wash my
hands of his doings, and as I have lived so will I die, true
and loyal to the family. The family of the Rackrents is, I
am proud to say, one of the most ancient in the kingdom.
Everybody knows this is not the old family name, which
was O'Shaughlin, related to the kings of Ireland-but that
was before my time. My grandfather was driver to the
great Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin, and I heard him, when I
was a boy, telling how the Castle Rackrent estate came to
Sir Patrick; Sir Tallyhoo Rackrent was cousin-german to
him, and had a fine estate of his own, only never a gate
upon it, it being his maxim that a car was the best gate.
Poor gentleman! he lost a fine hunter and his life, at last,
by it, all in one day's hunt. But I ought to bless that
day, for the estate came straight into the family, upon one
condition, which Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin at the time took
sadly to heart, they say, but thought better of it afterwards,
seeing how large a stake depended upon it: that he should,
by Act of Parliament, take and bear the surname and arms
of Rackrent.
Now it was that the world was to see what was in Sir
Patrick. On coming into the estate he gave the finest
entertainment ever was heard of in the country; not a man
towns and houses of honest men, and wandering in waste places, far from
danger of law, maketh his mantle his house, and under it covereth himself
from the wrath of Heaven, from the offence of the earth, and from the sight
of men. When it raineth, it is his pent-house; when it bloweth, it is his
tent; when it freezeth, it is his tabernacle. In summer he can wear it loose;
in winter he can wrap it close; at all times he can use it; never heavy, never
cumbersome. Likewise for a rebel it is as serviceable; for in this war that
he maketh (if at least it deserves the name of war), when he still flieth from
his foe, and lurketh in the thick woods (this should be black bogs) and straight
passages, waiting for advantages, it is his bed, yea, and almost his household
stuff."
2




CASTLE RACKRENT


could stand after supper but Sir Patrick himself, who could
sit out the best man in Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself.' He had his house, from one year's end to
another, as full of company as ever it could hold, and
fuller; for rather than be left out of the parties at Castle
Rackrent, many gentlemen, and those men of the first consequence and landed estates in the country-such as the
O'Neills of Ballynagrotty, and the Moneygawls of Mount
Juliet's Town, and O'Shannons of New Town Tullyhogmade it their choice, often and often, when there was no
room to be had for love nor money, in long winter nights,
to sleep in the chicken-house, which Sir Patrick had fitted
up for the purpose of accommodating his friends and the
public in general, who honoured him with their company
unexpectedly at Castle Rackrent; and this went on I can't
tell you how long. The whole country rang with his praises!
-Long life to him! I'm sure I love to look upon his picture, now opposite to me; though I never saw him, he must
have been a portly gentleman-his neck something short,
and remarkable for the largest pimple on his nose, which,
by his particular desire, is still extant in his picture, said to
be a striking likeness, though taken when young. He is
said also to be the inventor of raspberry whisky, which is
very likely, as nobody has ever appeared to dispute it with
him, and as there still exists a broken punch-bowl at Castle
Rackrent, in the garret, with an inscription to that effecta great curiosity. A few days before his death he was very
merry; it being his honour's birthday, he called my grandfather in-God bless him!-to drink the company's health,
and filled a bumper himself, but could not carry it to his
head, on account of the great shake in his hand; on this he
cast his joke, saying, "What would my poor father say to
me if he was to pop out of the grave, and see me now? I
remember when I was a little boy, the first bumper of
claret he gave me after dinner, how he praised me for
carrying it so steady to my mouth. Here 's my thanks to
him-a bumper toast.'' Then he fell to singing the favourite song he learned from his father-for the last time, poor
See Glossary.
3




CASTLE RACKRENT


gentleman-he sung it that night as loud and as hearty as
ever, with a chorus:
He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober,
Falls as the leaves do, falls as the leaves do, and dies in
October;
But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow,
Lives as he ought to do, lives as he ought to do, and dies an
honest fellow.
Sir Patrick died that night: just as the company rose to
drink his health with three cheers, he fell down in a sort of
fit, and was carried off; they sat it out, and were surprised,
on inquiry in the morning, to find that it was all over with
poor Sir Patrick. Never did any gentleman live and die
more beloved in the country by rich and poor. His funeral
was such a one as was never known before or since in the
county! All the gentlemen in the three counties were at
it; far and near, how they flocked! my great-grandfather
said, that to see all the women, even in their red cloaks,
you would have taken them for the army drawn out.
Then such a fine whillaluh!' you might have heard it to
the farthest end of the county, and happy the man who
could get but a sight of the hearse! But who'd have
thought it? Just as all was going on right, through his
own town they were passing, when the body was seized for
debt-a rescue was apprehended from the mob; but the
heir, who attended the funeral, was against that, for fear of
consequences, seeing that those villains who came to serve
acted under the disguise of the law: so, to be sure, the
law must take its course, and little gain had the creditors
for their pains. First and foremost, they had the curses of
the country: and Sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new heir, in
the next place, on account of this affront to the body, refused to pay a shilling of the debts, in which he was countenanced by all the best gentlemen of property, and others
of his acquaintance; Sir Murtagh alleging in all companies
that he all along meant to pay his father's debts of honour,
but the moment the law was taken of him, there was an end
1 See Glossary.
4




CASTLE RACKRENT


of honour to be sure. It was whispered (but none but the
enemies of the family believe it) that this was all a sham
seizure to get quit of the debts which he had bound himself to pay in honour.
It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was, but
this for certain, the new man did not take at all after the
old gentleman; the cellars were never filled after his death,
and no open house, or anything as it used to be; the tenants even were sent away without their whisky.' I was
ashamed myself, and knew not what to say for the honour
of the family; but I made the best of a bad case, and laid
it all at my lady's door, for I did not like her anyhow, nor
anybody else; she was of the family of the Skinflints, and
a widow; it was a strange match for Sir Murtagh; the people
in the country thought he demeaned himself greatly,' but
I said nothing: I knew how it was. Sir Murtagh was a
great lawyer, and looked to the great Skinflint estate;
there, however, he overshot himself; for though one of the
co-heiresses, he was never the better for her, for she outlived him many's the long day-he could not see that to be
sure when he married her. I must say for her, she made
him the best of wives, being a very notable, stirring woman, and looking close to everything. But I always suspected she had Scotch blood in her veins; anything else
I could have looked over in her, from a regard to the family.
She was a strict observer, for self and servants, of Lent,
and all fast-days, but not holidays.  One of the maids
having fainted three times the last day of Lent, to keep
soul and body together, we put a morsel of roast beef into
her mouth, which came from Sir Murtagh's dinner, who
np'qer fasted, not he; but somehow or other it unfortunately reached my lady's ears, and the priest of the parish
had a ccmplaint made of it the next day, and the poor girl
was forcegd, as soon as she could walk, to do penance for it,
before she could get any peace or absolution, in the house
or out of it. However, my lady was very charitable in her
own way. She had a charity school for poor children,
where they were taught to read and write gratis, and where
'See Glossary.                              2 Ibid.
5




CASTLE RACKRENT


they were kept well to spinning gratis for my lady in return; for she had always heaps of duty yarn from the tenants, and got all her household linen out of the estate from
first to last; for after the spinning, the weavers on the
estate took it in hand for nothing, because of the looms
my lady's interest could get from the Linen Board to distribute gratis. Then there was a bleach-yard near us, and
the tenant dare refuse my lady nothing, for fear of a lawsuit Sir Murtagh kept hanging over him about the watercourse. With these ways of managing, 'tis surprising how
cheap my lady got things done, and how proud she was of
it. Her table the same way, kept for next to nothing;
duty fowls, and duty turkeys, and duty geese,' came as fast
as we could eat 'em, for my lady kept a sharp look-out,
and knew to a tub of butter everything the tenants had, all
round. They knew her way, and what with fear of driving
for rent and Sir Murtagh's lawsuits, they were kept in such
good order, they never thought of coming near Castle
Rackrent without a present of something or other-nothing too much or too little for my lady-eggs, honey, butter, meal, fish, game, grouse, and herrings, fresh or salt, all
went for something. As for their young pigs, we had
them, and the best bacon and hams they could make up,
with all young chickens in spring; but they were a set of
poor wretches, and we had nothing but misfortunes with
them, always breaking and running away. This, Sir Murtagh and my lady said, was all their former landlord Sir
Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the half-year's rent into
arrear; there was something in that to be sure. But Sir
Murtagh was as much the contrary way; for let alone
making English tenants' of them, every soul, he was always
driving and driving, and pounding and pounding, and canting3 and canting, and replevying and replevying, and he
made a good living of trespassing cattle; there was always
some tenant's pig, or horse, or cow, or calf, or goose, trespassing, which was so great a gain to Sir Murtagh, that he
did not like to hear me talk of repairing fences. Then his
heriots and duty-work brought him in something his turf
See Glossary.    2 Ibid.      3 Ibid.    4Zbi.
6




CASTLE RACKRENT


was cut, his potatoes set an i dug, his hay brought home,
and, in short, all the work about his house done for nothing; for in all our leases there were strict clauses heavy
with penalties, which Sir Murtagh knew well how to enforce; so many days' duty-work of man and horse, from
every tenant, he was to have, and had, every year; and
when a man vexed him, why, the finest day he could pitch
on, when the cratur was getting in his own harvest, or
thatching his cabin, Sir Murtagh made it a principle to call
upon him and his horse; so he taught 'em all, as he said,
to know the law of landlord and tenant. As for law, I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved it so well as Sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending at a time, and I
never saw him so much himself: roads, lanes, bogs, wells,
ponds, eel-wires, orchards, trees, tithes, vagrants, gravelpits, sandpits, dunghills, and nuisances, everything upon
the face of the earth furnished him good matter for a suit.
He used to boast that he had a lawsuit for every letter in
the alphabet. How I used to wonder to see Sir Murtagh
in the midst of the papers in his office! Why, he could
hardly turn about for them. I made bold to shrug my
shoulders once in his presence, and thanked my stars I was
not born a gentleman to so much toil and trouble; but Sir
Murtagh took me up short with his old proverb, "Learning
is better than house or land." Out of forty-nine suits
which he had, he never lost one but seventeen'; the rest
he gained with costs, double costs, treble costs sometimes;
but even that did not pay. He was a very learned man in
the law, and had the character of it; but how it was I can't
tell, these suits that he carried cost him a power of money:
in the end he sold some hundreds a year of the family
estate; but he was a very learned man in the law, and I
know nothing of the matter, except having a great regard
for the family; and I could not help grieving when he sent
me to post up notices of the sale of the fee simple of the
lands and appurtenances of Timoleague.
"I know, honest Thady," says he, to comfort me, "what
I'm about better than you do; I'm only selling to get the
1 See Glossary.
7




CASTLE RACKRENT


ready money wanting to carry on my suit with spirit with
the Nugents, of Carrickashaughlin."
He was very sanguine abouat that suit with the Nugents
of Carrickashaughlin. He could have gained it, they say,
for certain, had it pleased Heaven to have spared him to
us, and it would have been at the least a plump two thousand a year in his way; but things were ordered otherwise
-for the best to be sure. He dug up a fairy-mount'1
against my advice, and had no luck afterwards. Though
a learned man in the law, he was a little too incredulous in
other matters. I warned him that I heard the very Banshee 2 that my grandfather heard under Sir Patrick's window
a few days before his death. But Sir Murtagh thought
nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough, with a spitting
of blood, brought on, I understand, by catching cold in
attending the courts, and overstraining his chest with making himself heard in one of his favourite causes. He was
a great speaker with a powerful voice; but his last speech
was-not in the courts at all. He and my lady, though both
of the same way of thinking in some things, and though
she was as good a wife and great economist as you could
see., and he the best of husbands, as to looking into his
affairs, and making money for his family; yet I don't know
how it was, they had a great deal of sparring and jarring
between them. My lady had her privy purse; and she
had her weed ashes,' and her sealing money' upon the signing of all the leases, with something to buy gloves besides;
I These fairy-mounts are called ant-hills in England. They are held in
high reverence hy the common people in Ireland. A gentleman, who in laying out his lawn had occasion to level one of these hillocks, could not prevail upon any of his labourers to begin the ominous work. He was obliged
to take a ioy from one of their reluctant hands, and hegan the attack himself.
The labourers agreed that the vengeance of the fairies would fall upon the
head of the presumptuous mortal who first disturbed them in their retreat.*
2 The Banshee is a species of aristocratic fairy, who, in the shape of a
little hideous old woman, has been known to appear, and heard to sing in a
mournful supernatural voice under the windows of great houses, to warn the
family that some of them are soon to die. In the last century every great
family in Ireland had a Banshee, who attended regularly; but latterly their
visits' and songs have been discontinued. 3 See Glossary.  4 ibid.
*See Glossary.
8




CASTLE RACKRENT


and, besides, again often took money from the tenants, if
offered properly, to speak for them to Sir Murtagh about
abatements and renewals. ' Now the weed ashes and the
glove money he allowed her clear perquisites; though once
when he saw her in a new gown saved out of the weed
ashes, he told her to my face (for he could say a sharp
thing) that she should not put on her weeds before her
husband's death. But in a dispute about an abatement
my lady would have the last word, and Sir Murtagh grew
mad'; I was within hearing of the door, and now I wish I
had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud, the whole
kitchen was out on the stairs.2 All on a sudden he stopped,
and my lady too. Something has surely happened, thought
I; and so it was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a
blood-vessel, and all the law in the land could do nothing
in that case. My lady sent for five physicians, but Sir
Murtagh died, and was buried. She had a fine jointure
settled upon her, and (took -herself away, to the great joy
of the tenantry. I never said anything one way or the
other whilst she was part of the family, but got up to see
her go at three o'clock in the morning.
"It's a fine morning, honest Thady," says she; "goodbye to ye." And into the carriage she stepped, without a
word more, good or bad, or even half-a-crown; but I made
my bow, and stood to see her safe out of sight for the sake
of the family.
Then we were all bustle in the house, which made me
keep out of the way, for I walk slow and hate a bustle; but
the house was all hurry-skurry, preparing for my new master. Sir Murtagh, I forgot to notice, had no childer3; so
the Rackrent estate went to his younger brother, a young
dashing officer, who came amongst us before I knew for the
life of me whereabouts I was, in a gig or some of them
things, with another spark along with him, and led horses,
and servants, and dogs, and scarce a place to put any
Christian of them into; for my late lady had sent all the
I See Glossary.                             2 Ibid.
3 Childer: this is the manner in which many of Thady's rank, and others
in Ireland, formerly pronounced the word children.
9




CASTLE RACKRENT


feather-beds off before her, and blankets and household
linen, down to the very knife-cloths, on the cars to Dublin, which were all her own, lawfully paid for out of her
own money. So the house was quite bare, and my young
master, the moment ever he set foot in it out of his gig,
thought all those things must come of themselves, I believe, for he never looked after anything at all, but harumscarum called for everything as if we were conjurors, or he
in a public-house. For my part, I could not bestir myself
anyhow; I had been so much used to my late master and
mistress, all was upside down with me, and the new servants in the servants' hall were quite out of my way; I had
nobody to talk to, and if it had not been for my pipe and
tobacco, should, I verily believe, have broke my heart for
poor Sir Murtagh.
But one morning my new master caught a glimpse of me
as I was looking at his horse's heels, in hopes of a word
from him. "And is that old Thady? " says he, as he got
into his gig: I loved him from that day to this, his voice
was so like the family; and he threw me a guinea out of
his waistcoat-pocket, as he drew up the reins with the other
hand, his horse rearing too; I thought I never set my eyes
on a finer figure of a man, quite another sort from Sir
Murtagh, though withal, to me, a family likeness. A fine
life we should have led, had he stayed amongst us, God
bless him! He valued a guinea as little as any man:
money to him was no more than dirt, and his gentleman
and groom, and all belonging to him, the same; but the
sporting season over, he grew tired of the place, and having got down a great architect for the house, and an improver for the grounds, and seen their plans and elevations,
he fixed a day for settling with the tenants, but went off in
a whirlwind to town, just as some of them came into the
yard in the morning. A circular letter came next post
from the new agent, with news that the master was sailed
for England, and he must remit f 500 to Bath for his use
before a fortnight was at an end; bad news still for the
poor tenants, no change still for the better with them. Sir
Kit Rackrent,, my young master, left all to the agent; and
10




CASTLE RACKRENT


though he had the spirit of a prince, and lived away to the
honour of his country abroad, which I was proud to hear of,
what were we the better for that at home? The agent was
one of your middlemen,' who grind the face of the poor,
and can never bear a man with a hat upon his head: he ferreted the tenants out of their lives; not a week without a
call for money, drafts upon drafts from Sir Kit; but I laid it
all to the fault of the agent; for, says I, what can Sir Kit do
with so much cash, and he a single man? But still it went.
Rents must be all paid up to the day, and afore; no allowance for improving tenants, no consideration for those who
had built upon their farms: no sooner was a lease out, but
the land was advertised to the highest bidder; all the old
tenants turned out, when they spent their substance in the
hope and trust of a renewal from the landlord. All was
now let at the highest penny to a parcel of poor wretches,
who meant to run away, and did so, after taking two crops,
out of the ground. Then fining down the year's rent came
into fashion '-anything for the ready penny; and with all
this and presents to the agent and the driver,' there was no
such thing as standing it. I said nothing, for I had a regard for the family; but I walked about thinking if his
honour Sir Kit knew all this, it would go hard with him
IMiddlemen.-There was a class of men, termed middlemen, in Ireland,
who took large farms on long leases from gentlemen of landed property, and
let the land again in small portions to the poor, as under-tenants, at exorbitant rents. The head landlord, as he was called, seldom saw his undertenants; but if he could not get the middleman to pay him his rent
punctually, he went to his land, and drove the land for his rent; that is to
say, he sent his steward, or bailiff, or driver, to the land to seize the cattle,
hay, corn, flax, oats, or potatoes, belonging to the under-tenants, and proceeded to sell these for his rents. It sometimes happened that these unfortunate tenants paid their rent twice over, once to the middleman, and once to
the head landlord.
The characteristics of a middleman were servility to his superiors and
tyranny towards his inferiors: the poor detested this race of beings. In
speaking to them, however, they always used the most abject language, and
the most humble tone and posture-" Please your honour; and please your
honour's honour, " they knew must be repeated as a charm at the beginning and
end of every equivocating, exculpatory, or supplicatory sentence; and they were
much more alert in doffing their caps to those new men than to those of what
they call good old famnilies. A witty carpenter once termed these middlemen
journeymen gentlemen.2 See Glossary.3 Ibid.
ILI




CASTLE RACKRENT


but he'd see us righted; not that I had anything for my
own share to complain of, for the agent was always very
civil to me when he came down into the country, and took
a great deal of notice of my son Jason. Jason Quirk,
though he be my son, I must say was a good scholar from
his birth, and a very 'cute lad: I thought to make him a
priest,' but he did better for himself; seeing how he was as
good a clerk as any in the county, the agent gave him his
rent accounts to copy, which he did first of all for the
pleasure of obliging the gentleman, and would take nothing at all for his trouble, but was always proud to serve the
family. By and by a good farm bounding us to the east
fell into his honour's hands, and my son put in a proposal
for it: why shouldn't he, as well as another? The proposals all went over to the master at the Bath, who knowing no more of the land than the child unborn, only having
once been out a-groasing on it before he went to England;
and the value of lands, as the agent informed him, falling
every year in Ireland, his honour wrote over in all haste a
bit of a letter, saying he left it all to the agent, and that
he must let it as well as he could-to the best bidder, to be
sure-and send him over /2oo by return of post: with this
the agent gave me a hint, and I spoke a good word for my
son, and gave out in the country that nobody need bid
against us. So his proposal was just the thing, and he a
good tenant; and he got a promise of an abatement in the
rent after the first year, for advancing the half-year's rent
at signing the lease, which was wanting to complete the
agent's ~200 by the return of the post, with all which my
master wrote back he was well satisfied. About this time
we learnt from the agent, as a great secret, how the money
went so fast,,and the reason of the thick coming of the
master's drafts: he was a little too fond of play; and
Bath, they say, was no place for no young man of his fortune, where there were so many of his own countrymen,
too, hunting him up and down, day and night, who had
nothing to lose. At last, at Christmas, the agent wrote
over to stop the drafts, for he could raise no more money
1 See Glossary.
12




CASTLE RACKRENT


on bond or mortgage, or from the tenants, or anyhow, nor
had he any more to lend himself, and desired at the same
time to decline the agency for the future, wishing Sir Kit his
health and happiness, and the compliments of the season,
for I saw the letter before ever it was sealed, when my son
copied it. When the answer came there was a new turn in
affairs, and the agent was turned out; and my son Jason,
who had corresponded privately with his honour occasionally on business, was forthwith desired by his honour to
take the accounts into his own hands, and look them over,
till further orders. It was a very spirited letter to be sure:
Sir Kit sent his service, and the compliments of the season,
in return to the agent, and he would. fight him with pleasure to-morrow, or any day, for sending him such a letter,
if he was born a gentleman, which he was sorry (for both
their sakes) to find (too late) he was not. Then, in a private postscript, he condescended to tell us that all would be
speedily settled to his satisfaction, and we should turn over
a new leaf, for he was going to be married in a fortnight to
the grandest heiress in England, and had only immediate
occasion at present for ~'2oo, as he would not choose to
touch his lady's fortune for travelling expenses home to
Castle Rackrent, where he intended to be, wind and
weather permitting, early in the next month; and desired
fires, and the house to be painted, and the new building to
go on as fast as possible, for the reception of him and his
lady before that time; with several words besides in the
letter, which we could not make out because, God bless
him!1 he wrote in such a flurry. My heart warmed to my
new lady when I read this: I was almost afraid it was too
good news to be true; but the girls fell to scouring, and it
was well they did, f or we soon saw his marriage in the
paper, to a lady with I don't know how many tens of
thousand pounds to her fortune: then I watched the postoffice for his landing; and the news came to my son of his
and the bride being in Dublin, and on the way home to
Castle Rackrent. We had bonfires all over the country, expecting him down the next day, and we had his coming of
age still to celebrate, which he had not time to do properly
13




CASTLE RACKRENT


before he left the country; therefore, a great ball was expected, and great doings upon his coming, as it were,
fresh to take possession of his ancestors' estate. I never
shall forget the day he came home; we had waited and
waited all day long till eleven o'clock at night, and I was
thinking of sending the boy to lock the gates, and giving
them up for that night, when there came the carriages
thundering up to the great hall door. I got the first sight'
of the bride; for when the carriage door opened, just as
she had her foot on the steps, I held the flam 1 full in her
face to light her, at which she shut her eyes, but I had a
full view of the rest of her, and greatly shocked I was, for
by that light she was little, better than a blackamoor, and.
seemed crippled; but that was only sitting so long in the
chariot.
"You're kindly welcome to Castle Rackrent, my lady,"
says I (recollecting who she was). "Did your honour hear
of the bonfires? "
His honour spoke never a word, nor so much as handed
her up the steps-he looked to me no more like himself
than nothing at all; I know I took him for the skeleton of
his honour. I was not sure what to say next to one or
t'other, but seeing she was a stranger in a foreign country,
I thought it but right to speak cheerful to her; so I went
back again to the bonfires.
"My lady,'" says I, as she crossed the hall, "there would
have been fifty times as many; but for fear of the horses,
and frightening your ladyship, Jason and I forbid them,
please your honour."
With that she looked at me a little bewildered.
"Will I have a fire lighted in the state-room to-night?"
was the next question I put to her, but never a word she
answered; so I concluded she could not speak a word of
English, and was from foreign parts. The short and the
long of it was, I couldn't tell what to make of her; so I
left her to herself, and went straight down to the servants'
hall to learn something for certain about her. Sir Kit's
own man was tired, but the groom set him a-talking at
I See Glossary.
14




CASTLE RACKRENT


last, and we had it all out before ever I closed my eyes that
night. The bride might well be a great fortune-she was
a Jezvls/ by all accounts, wvho are famous for their great
riches. I had never seen any of that tribe or nation before,
and could only gather that she spoke a strange kind of
English of her own, that she could not abide pork or sausages, and went neither to church or mass. Mercy upon
his honour's poor soul, thought 1; what will become of
-him and his, and all of us, with his heretic blackamoor at
the head of the Castle Rackrent eýstate? I never slept a
wink all night for thinking of it; but before the servants I
_put my pipe in my mouth, and kept my mind to myself,
for I had a great regard for the family; and after this,.when strange gentlemen's servants came to the house, and
would begin to talk about the bride, I took care to put the
best foot foremost, and passed her for a nabob in the
kitchen, which accounted for her dark complexion and
everything.
The very morning after they came home, however, I
saw plain enough how things were between Sir Kit and my
lady, though they were walking together arm in arm after
breakfast, looking at the new building and the improvements.
"Old Thady," said my maste~r, just as he used to do,
"how do you do? "
"Very well, I thank your honour's honour, " said I; but
I saw he was not well pleased, and my heart was in my
mouth as I walked along after him.
"Is the large room damp, Thady? " said his honour.
" Oh damp, your honour! how should it be but as dry
as a bone, " says I, " after all the fires we have kept in it
day and night? It's the barrack-room'I your honour's
talking on.
"And what is a barrack-room, pray, my dear? " were the
first words I ever heard out of my lady's lips.
"No matter, my dear," said he, and went on talking
to me, ashamed-like I should witness her ignorance. To
be sure, to hear her talk one might have taken her for an
1See Glossary.
'5




CASTLE RACKRENT


innocent,1 for it was, "What's this, Sir Kit? and what's
that, Sir Kit? " all the way we went. To be sure, Sir Kit
had enough to do to answer her.
"And what do you call that, Sir Kit?" said she; "that
-that looks like a pile of black bricks, pray, Sir Kit? "
" My turf-stack, my dear, "said my master, and bit his lip.
Where have you lived, my lady, all your life, not to
know a turf-stack when you see it? thought I; but I said
nothing. Then by and by she takes out her glass, and
begins spying over the country.
"And what's all that black swamp out yonder, Sir Kit?"
says she.
"My bog, my dear," says he, and went on whistling.
"It's a very ugly prospect, my dear," says she.
"You don't see it, my dear," says he, "for we've
planted it out; when the trees grow up in summertime--" says he.
"Where are the trees," said she, "my dear? " still looking through her glass.
"You are blind, my dear," says he; "what are these
under your eyes?"
"These shrubs?" said she.
"Trees," said he.
"Maybe they are what you call trees in Ireland, my
dear," said she; "but they are not a yard high, are they?"
"They were planted out but last year, my lady," says I,
to soften matters between them, for I saw she was going
the way to make his honour mad with her: "they are very
well grown for their age, and you'll not see the bog of Allyballycarricko'shaughlin at-all-at-all through the skreen,
when once the leaves come out. But, my lady, you must
not quarrel with any part or parcel of Allyballycarricko'shaughlin, for you don't know how many hundred years
that same bit of bog has been in the family; we would not
part with the bog of Allyballycarricko'shaughlin upon no
account at all; it cost the late Sir Murtagh two hundred
good pounds to defend his title to it and boundaries against
the O'Learys, who cut a road through it."
1 See Glossary.
f^




CASTLE RACKRENT


Now one would have thought this would have been hint
enough for my lady, but she fell to laughing like one out
of their right mind, and made me say the name of the bog
over, for her to get it by heart, a dozen times; then she
must ask me how to spell it, and what was the meaning of
it in English-Sir Kit standing by whistling all the while.
I verily believed she laid the corner-stone of all her future
misfortunes at that very instant; but I said no more, only
looked at Sir Kit.
There were no balls, no dinners, no doings; the country
was all disappointed-Sir Kit's gentleman said in a whisper
to me, it was all my lady's own fault, because she was so
obstinate about the cross.
"' What cross? " says I; "is it about her being a heretic?"
"Oh, no such matter," says he; "my master does not
mind her heresies, but her diamond cross-it's worth I
can't tell you how much, and she has thousands of English
pounds concealed in diamonds about her, which she as good
as promised to give up to my master before he married; but
now she won't part with any of them, and she must take
the consequences."
Her honeymoon, at least her Irish honeymoon, was
scarcely well over, when his honour one morning said to
me, "Thady, buy me a pig!" and then the sausages were
ordered, and here was the first open breaking-out of my
lady's troubles. My lady came down herself into the
kitchen to speak to the cook about the sausages, and desired never to see them more at her table. Now my master had ordered them, and my lady knew that. The cook
took my lady's part, because she never came down into the
kitchen, and was young and innocent in housekeeping,
which raised her pity; besides, said she, at her own table,
surely my lady should order and disorder what she pleases.
But the cook soon changed her note, for my master made
it a principle to have the sausages, and swore at her for a
Jew herself, till he drove her fairly out of the kitchen;
then, for fear of her place, and because he threatened that
my lady should give her no discharge without the sausages,
she gave up, and from that day forward always sausages,
'7




CASTLE RACKRENT


or bacon, or pig-meat in some shape or other, went up to
table; upon which my lady shut herself up in her own
room, and my master said she might stay there, with an
oath: and to make sure of her, he turned the key in the
door, and kept it ever after in his pocket. We none of us
ever saw or heard her speak for seven years after that': he
carried her dinner himself. Then his honour had a great
deal of company to dine with him, and balls in the house,
and was as gay and gallant, and as much himself as before
he was married; and at dinner he always drank my Lady
Rackrent's good health and so did the company, and he
1 This part of the history of the Rackrent family can scarcely be thought
credible; but in justice to honest Thady, it is hoped the reader will recollect
the history of the celebrated Lady Cathcart's conjugal imprisonment. The
editor was acquainted with Colonel M'Guire, Lady Cathcart's husband; he
has lately seen and questioned the maid-servant who lived with Colonel
M'Guire during the time of Lady Cathcart's imprisonment. Her ladyship
was locked up in her own house for many years, during which period her
husband was visited by the neighbouring gentry, and it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady Cathcart, informing her that
the company had the honour to drink her ladyship's health, and begging to
know whether there was anything at table that she would like to eat? The
answer was always, " Lady Cathcart's compliments, and she has everything
she wants." An instance of honesty in a poor Irishwoman deserves to be recorded. Lady Cathcart had some remarkably fine diamonds, which she had
concealed from her husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the
house, lest he should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend to
whom she could encrust them, but she had observed a poor beggar woman,
who used to come to the house; she spoke to her from the window of the
room in which she was confined; the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart threw a parcel containing the jewels to her. The
poor woman carried them to the person to whom they were directed, and
several years afterwards, when Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, she received her diamonds safely.
At Colonel M'Guire's death her ladyship was released. The editor, within
this year, saw the gentleman who accompanied her to England after her
husband's death. When she first was told of his death she imagined that the
news was not true, and that it was told only with an intention of deceiving
her. At his death she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her; she wore
a red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupefied; she said
that she scarcely knew one human creature from another; her imprisonment
lasted above twenty years. These circumstances may appear strange to an
English reader; but there is no danger in the present times that any individual
should exercise such tyranny as Colonel M'Guire's with impunity, the power
being now all in the hands of Government, and there being no possibility of
obtaining from Parliament an Act of indemnity for any cruelties.




CASTLE RACKRENT


sent out always a servant with his compliments to my Lady
Rackrent, and the company was drinking her ladyship's
health, and begged to know if there was anything at table
he might send her, and the man came back, after the sham
errand, with my Lady Rackrent's compliments, and she
was very much obliged to Sir Kit-she did not wish for
anything, but drank the company's health. The country,
to be sure, talked and wondered at my lady's being shut
up, but nobody chose to interfere or ask any impertinent
questions, for they knew my master was a man very apt to
give a short answer himself, and likely to call a man out for
it afterwards: he was a famous shot, had killed his man
before he came of age, and nobody scarce dared look at
him whilst at Bath. Sir Kit's character was so well known
in the country that he lived in peace and quietness ever
after, and was a great favourite with the ladies, especially
when in process of time, in the fifth year of her confinement, my Lady Rackrent fell ill and took entirely to her
bed, and he gave out that she was now skin and bone, and
could not last through the winter. In this he had two
physicians' opinions to back him (for now he called in two
physicians for her), and tried all his arts to get the diamond
cross from her on her death-bed, and to get her to make a
will in his favour of her separate possessions; but there she
was too tough for him. He used to swear at her behind
her back after kneeling to her face, and call her in the presence of his gentleman his stiff-necked Israelite, though before he married her that same gentleman told me he used
to call her (how he could bring it out, I don't know) "my
pretty Jessica!" To be sure it must have been hard for
her to guess what sort of a husband he reckoned to make
her. When she was lying, to all expectation, on her deathbed of a broken heart, I could not but pity her, though she
was a Jewish, and considering too it was no fault of hers to
be taken with my master, so young as she was at the Bath,
and so fine a gentleman as Sir Kit was when he courted her;
and considering too, after all they had heard and seen of
him as a husband, there were now no less than three ladies
in our county talked of for his second wife, all at daggers
'9




CASTLE RACKRENT


drawn with each other, as his gentleman swore, at the balls,
for Sir Kit for their partner-I could not but think them bewitched, but they all reasoned with themselves that Sir Kit
would make a good husband to any Christian but a Jewish, I
suppose, and especially as he was now a reformed rake; and
it was not known how my lady's fortune was settled in her
will, nor how the Castle Rackrent estate was all mortgaged,
and bonds out against him, for he was never cured of his gaming tricks; but that was the only fault he had, God bless him!
My lady had a sort of fit, and it was given out that she
was dead, by mistake: this brought things to a sad crisis
for my poor master. One of the three ladies showed his
letters to her brother, and claimed his promises, whilst
another did the same. I don't mention names. Sir Kit,
in his defence, said he would meet any man who dared to
question his conduct; and as to the ladies, they must settle
it amongst them who was to be his second, and his third,
and his fourth, whilst his first was still alive, to his mortification and theirs. Upon this, as upon all former occasions, he had the voice of the country with him, on account
of the great spirit and propriety he acted with. He met
and shot the first lady's brother: the next day he called out
the second, who had a wooden leg, and their place of meeting by appointment being in a new-ploughed field, the
wooden-leg man stuck fast in it. Sir Kit, seeing his situation, with great candour fired his pistol over his head; upon
which the seconds interposed, and convinced the parties
there had been a slight misunderstanding between them:
thereupon they shook hands cordially, and went home to
dinner together. This gentleman, to show the world how
they stood together, and by the advice of the friends of
both parties, to re-establish his sister's injured reputation,
went out with Sir Kit as his second, and carried his message
next day to the last of his adversaries: I never saw him in
such fine spirits as that day he went out-sure enough he
was within ames-ace of getting quit handsomely of all his
enemies; but unluckily, after hitting the toothpick out of
his adversary's finger and thumb, he received a ball in a
vital part, and was brought home, in little better than an
20




CASTLE RACKRENT


hour after the affair, speechless on a hand-barrow to my
lady. We got the key out of his pocket the first thing we
did., and my son Jason ran to unlock the barrack-room,
where my lady had been shut up for seven years,, to acquaint her with the fatal accident. The surprise bereaved
her of her senses at first, nor would she believe but we were
putting some new trick upon her, to entrap her out of her
jewels, for a great while, till Jason bethought himself of
taking her to the window, and showed her the men bring*ing Sir Kit up the avenue upon the hand-barrow, which
had immediately the desired effect; for directly she burst
into tears, and pulling her cross from her bosom, she kissed
it with as great devotion as ever I witnessed, and lifting up
her eyes to heaven, uttered some ejaculation, which none
present heard; but I take the sense of it to be, she' returned
thanks for this unexpected interposition in her favour when
she had least reason to expect it. My master was greatly
lamented: there was no life in him when we lifted him off
the barrow, so he was laid out immediately, and "waked"
the same night. The country was all in an uproar about
him, and not a soul but cried shame upon his murderer,
who would have been hanged surely, if he could have been
brought to his trial, whilst the gentlemen in the country
were up about it; but he very prudently withdrew himself
to the Continent before the affair was made public. As
for the young lady who was the immediate cause of the
fatal accident, however innocently, she could never show
her head after at the balls in the county or any place; and
by the advice of her friends and physicians, she was ordered
soon after to Bath, where it was expected, if anywhere on
this side of the grave, she would meet with the recovery of
her health and lost peace of mind. As a proof of his great
popularity, I need only add that there was a song made
upon my master's untimely death in the newspapers, which
was in everybody's mouth, singing up and 'down through
the country, even down to the mountains, only three days
after hf"s unhappy exit. He was also greatly bemoaned at
the Curragh,1 where his cattle were well known; and all
SSee Glossary.
21




CASTLE RACKRENT


who had taken up his bets were particularly inconsolable
for his loss to society. His stud sold at the cant' at the
greatest price ever known in the county; his favourite
horses were chiefly disposed of amongst his particular
friends, who would give any price for them for his sake;
but no ready money was required by the new heir, who
wished not to displease any of the gentlemen of the neighbourhood just upon his coming to settle amongst them; so
a long credit was given where requisite, and the cash has
never been gathered in from that day to this.
But to return to my lady. She got surprisingly well after
my master's decease. No sooner was it known for certain
that he was dead, than all the gentlemen within twenty
miles of us came in a body, as it were, to set my lady at
liberty, and to protest against her confinement, which they
now for the first time understood was against her own consent. The ladies too were as attentive as possible, striving
who should be foremost with their morning visits; and they
that saw the diamonds spoke very handsomely of them,
but thought it a pity they were not bestowed, if it had so
pleased God, upon a lady who would have become them
better. All these civilities wrought little with my lady, for
she had taken an unaccountable prejudice against the
country, and everything belonging to it, and was so partial
to her native land, that after parting with the cook, which
she did immediately upon my master's decease, I never
knew her easy one instant, night or day, but when she was
packing up to leave us. Had she meant to make any stay
in Ireland, I stood a great chance of being a great favourite
with her; for when she found I understood the weathercock, she was always finding some pretence to be talking
to me, and asking me which way the wind blew, and was it
likely, did I think, to continue fair for England. But when
I saw she had made up her mind to spend the rest of her
days upon her own income and jewels in England, I considered her quite as a foreigner, and not at all any longer
as part of the family. She gave no vails to the servants at
Castle Rackrent at parting, notwithstanding the old pro1 See Glossary.
22




CASTLE RACKRENT


verb of "as rich as a Jew,'" which she, being a Jewish, they
built upon with reason. But from first to last she brought
nothing but misfortunes amongst us; and if it had not been
all along with her, his honour, Sir Kit, would have been
now alive in all appearance. Her diamond cross was, they
say, at the bottom of it all; and it was a shame for her,
being his wife, not to show more duty, and to have given
it up when he condescended to ask so often for such a bit
of a trifle in his distresses, especially when he all along
made it no secret he married for money. But we will not
bestow another thought upon her. This much I thought
it lay upon my conscience to say, in justice to my poor
master's memory.
'Tis an ill wind that blows nobody no good: the same
wind that took the Jew Lady Rackrent over to England
brought over the new heir to Castle Rackrent.
Here let me pause for breath in my story, for though I
had a great regard for every member of the family, yet
without compare Sir Conolly, commonly called, for short,
amongst his friends, Sir Condy Rackrent, was ever my
great favourite, and, indeed, the most universally beloved
man I had ever seen or heard of, not excepting his great
ancestor Sir Patrick, to whose memory he, amongst other
instances of generosity, erected a handsome marble stone
in the church of Castle Rackrent, setting forth in large letters his age, birth, parentage, and many other virtues,
concluding with the compliment so justly due, that "Sir
Patrick Rackrent lived and died a monument of old Irish
hospitality."


23




CASTLE RACKRENT


CONTINUATION OF THE MEMOIRS
OF THE
RACKRENT FAMILY
HISTORY OF SIR CONOLLY RACKRENT.
S IR CONDY RACKRENT, by the grace of God heirat-law to the Castle Rackrent estate, was a remote
branch of the family. Born to little or no fortune of
his own, he was bred to the bar, at which, having many
friends to push him and no mean natural abilities of his
own, he doubtless would in process of time, if he could
have borne the drudgery of that study, have been rapidly
made King's Counsel at the least; but things were disposed of otherwise, and he never went the circuit but twice,
and then made no figure for want of a fee, and being unable
to speak in public. He received his education chiefly in
the college of Dublin, but before he came to years of discretion lived in the country, in a small but slated house
within view of the end of the avenue. I remember him,
bare footed and headed, running through the street of
O'Shaughlin's Town, and playing at pitch-and-toss, ball,
marbles, and what not, with the boys of the town, amongst
whom my son Jason was a great favourite with him. As
for me, he was ever my white-headed boy: often's the time,
when I would call in at his father's, where I was always
made welcome, he would slip down to me in the kitchen,
and love to sit on my knee whilst I told him stories of the
family and the blood from which he was sprung, and how
he might look forward, if the then present man should die
without childer, to being at the head of the Castle Rackrent estate. This was then spoke quite and clear at random
to please the child, but it pleased Heaven to accomplish my
prophecy afterwards, which gave him a great opinion of
24




CASTLE RACKRENT


my judgment in business. He went to a little grammarschool with many others, and my son amongst the rest,
who was in his class, and not a little useful to him in his
book-learning, which he acknowledged with gratitude ever
after. These rudiments of his education thus completed,
he got a-horseback, to which exercise he was ever addicted,
and used to gallop over the country while yet but a slip of
a boy, under the care of Sir Kit's huntsman, who was very
fond of him, and often lent him his gun, and took him out
a-shooting under his own eye. By these means he became
well acquainted and popular amongst the poor in the neighbourhood early, for there was not a cabin at which he had
not stopped some morning or other., along with the huntsman, to drink a glass of burnt whisky out of an eggshell, to
do him good and warm his heart and drive the cold out of
his stomach. The old people always told him he was a
great likeness of Sir Patrick, which made him first have an
ambition to take after him, as far as his fortune should
allow. He left us when of an age to enter the college, and
there completed his education and nineteenth year, for as
he was not born to an estate, his friends thought it incumbent on them to give him the best education which could
be had for love or money, and a great deal of money
consequently was spent upon him at College and Temple.
He was very little altered for the worse by what he saw
there of the great world, for when he came down into the
country to pay us a visit, we thought him just the same
man as ever-hand and glove with every one, and as far
from high, though not without his own proper share of
family pride, as any man ever you see. Latterly, seeing
how Sir Kit and the Jewish lived together, and that there
was no one between him and the Castle Rackrent estate, he
neglected to apply to the law as much as was expected of
him, and secretly many of the tenants and others advanced
him cash upon his note of hand value received, promising
bargains of leases and lawful interest, should he ever come
into the estate. All this was kept a great secret for fear
the present man, hearing of it, should take it into his head
to take it ill of poor Condy, and so should cut him off for
25




CASTLE RACKRENT


ever by levying a fine, and suffering a recovery to dock the
entail.1 Sir Murtagh would have been the man for that;
but Sir Kit was too much taken up philandering to consider the law in this case, or any other. These practices I
have mentioned to account for the state of his affairs-I
mean Sir Condy's upon his coming into the Castle Rackrent estate. He could not command a penny of his first
year's income, which, and keeping no accounts, and the
great sight of company he did, with many other causes too
numerous to mention, was the origin of his distresses. My
son Jason, who was now established agent, and knew everything, explained matters out of the face to Sir Conolly, and
made him sensible of his embarrassed situation. With a
great nominal rent-roll, it was almost all paid away in interest; which being for convenience suffered to run on,
soon doubled the principal, and Sir Condy was obliged to
pass new bonds for the interest, now grown principal, and
so on. Whilst this was going on, my son requiring to be
paid for his trouble and many years' service in the family
gratis, and Sir Condy not willing to take his affairs into his
own hands, or to look them even in the face, he gave my
son a bargain of some acres which fell out of lease at a
reasonable rent. Jason set the land, as soon as his lease
was sealed, to under-tenants, to make the rent, and got
two hundred a year profit rent; which was little enough
considering his long agency. He bought the land at twelve
years' purchase two years afterwards, when Sir Condy was
pushed for money on an execution, and was at the same
time allowed for his improvements thereon. There was a
sort of hunting-lodge upon the estate, convenient to my
son Jason's land, which he had his eye upon about this
time; and he was a little jealous of Sir Condy, who talked
of setting it to a stranger who was just come into the
country-Captain Moneygawl was the man. He was son
and heir to the Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's Town, who
had a great estate in the next county to ours; and my master was loth to disoblige the young gentleman, whose heart
was set upon the Lodge; so he wrote him back that the
I See Glossary.
26




CASTLE RACKRENT


Lodge was at his service, and if he would honour him with
his company at Castle Rackrent, they could ride over together some morning and look at it before signing the lease.
Accordingly, the captain came over to us, and he and Sir
Condy grew the greatest friends ever you see, and were
for ever out a-shooting or hunting together, and were very
merry in the evenings; and Sir Condy was invited of course
to Mount Juliet's Town; and the family intimacy that had
been in Sir Patrick's time was now recollected, and nothing
would serve Sir Condy but he must be three times a week
at the least with his new friends, which grieved me, who
knew, by the captain's groom and gentleman, how they
talked of him at Mount Juliet's Town, making him quite,
as one may say, a laughing-stock and a butt for the whole
company; but they were soon cured of that by an accident
that surprised 'em not a little, as it did me. There was a
bit of a scrawl found upon the waiting-maid of old Mr.
Moneygawl's youngest daughter, Miss Isabella, that laid
open the whole; and her father, they say, was like one out
of his right mind, and swore it was the last thing he ever
should have thought of, when he invited my master to his
house, that his daughter should think of such a match.
But their talk signified not a straw, for as Miss Isabella's
maid reported, her young mistress was fallen over head
and ears in love with Sir Condy from the first time that
ever her brother brought him into the house to dinner.
The servant who waited that day behind my master's chair
was the first who knew it, as he says; though it's hard to
believe him, for he did not tell it till a great while afterwards; but, however, it's likely enough, as the thing turned
out, that he was not far out of the way, for towards the
middle of dinner, as he says, they were talking of stageplays, having a playhouse, and being great play-actors at
Mount Juliet's Town; and Miss Isabella turns short to my
master, and says:
"Have you seen the play-bill, Sir Condy?"
"No, I have not," said he.
"Then more shame for you," said the captain her
brother, "not to know that my sister is to play Juliet
27




CASTLE RACKRENT


to-night, who plays it better than any woman on or off
the stage in all Ireland."
" I am very happy to hear it, " said Sir Condy;- and there
the matter dropped for the present.
But Sir Condy all this time, and a great while afterwards, was at a terrible nonplus; for he had no liking, not
he, to stage-plays, nor to Miss Isabella either-to his mind,
as it came out over a bowl of whisky-punch at home, his
little Judy M'Quirk, who was daughter to a sister's son of
mine, was worth twenty of Miss Isabella. He had seen
her often when he stopped at her father's cabin to drink
whisky out of the eggshell, out hunting, before he came to
the estate, and, as she gave out, was under something like
a promise of marriage to her. Anyhow, I could not but
pity my poor master, who was so bothered between them,
and he an easy-hearted man, that could not disoblige nobody-God bless him! To be sure, it was not his place to
behave ungenerous to Miss Isabella, who had disobliged
all her relations for his sake, as he remarked; and then
she was locked up in her chamber, and forbid to think
of him any more, which raised his spirit, because his
family was, as he observed, as good as theirs at any
rate, and the Rackrents a suitable match for the Moneygawls any day in the year; all which was true enough.
But it grieved me to see that, upon the strength of all
this, Sir Condy was growing more in the mind to carry
off Miss Isabella to Scotland, in spite of her relations, as
she desired.
" It's all over with our poor Judy! " said I, with a heavy
sigh, making bold to speak to him one night when he was
a little cheerful, and standing in the servants' hall all alone
with me, as was often his custom.
"'Not at all, " said he; " I never was fonder of Judy than
at this present speaking; and to prove it to you, " said he
-and he took from my hand a halfpenny change that I had
just got along with my tobacco-'"'and to prove it to you,
Thady, " says he, "it's a toss-up with me which I should
marry this minute, her or Mr. Moneygawl of Mount Juliet's
Town's daughter-so it is. "
28




CASTLE RACKRENT


"Oh-boo! boo!"' says I, making light of it, to see
what he would go on to next; "your honour's joking, to
be sure; there's no compare between our poor Judy and
Miss Isabella, who has a great fortune, they say."
"I'm not a man to mind a fortune, nor never was," said
Sir Condy, proudly, "whatever her friends may say; and
to make short of it," says he, "I'm come to a determination upon the spot." With that he swore such a terrible
oath as made me cross myself. "And by this book," said
he, snatching up my ballad-book, mistaking it for my
prayer-book, which lay in the window,-"and by this
book," says he, "and by all the books that ever were shut
and opened, it's come to a toss-up with me, and I'll stand
or fall by the toss; and so Thady, hand me over that pin'
out of the ink-horn"; and he makes a cross on the smooth
side of the halfpenny; "Judy M'Quirk," says he, "her
mark. '"
God bless him! his hand was a little unsteadied by all
the whisky-punch he had taken, but it was plain to see his
heart was for poor Judy. My heart was all as one as in my
mouth when I saw the halfpenny up in the air, but I said
nothing at all; and when it came down I was glad I had
kept myself to myself, for to be sure now it was all over
with poor Judy.
"Judy's out a luck," said I, striving to laugh.
"I'm out a luck," said he; and I never saw a man look
so cast down: he took up the halfpenny off the flag, and
walked away quite sober-like by the shock. Now, though
as easy a man, you would think, as any in the wide world,
1 Boo! boo!-an exclamation equivalent to pshaw or nonsense.
"2 Pin, read pen.-It formerly was vulgarly pronounced pin in Ireland.
SHer mark.-It was the custom in Ireland for those who could not write
to make a cross to stand for their signature, as was formerly the practice of
our English monarchs. The Editor inserts the facsimile of an Irish mark,
which may hereafter be valuable to a judicious antiquaryHer
Judy X M'Quirk,
Mark.
In bonds or notes signed in this manner a witness is requisite, as the name is
frequently written by him or her.
29




CASTLE RACKRENT


there was no such thing as making him unsay one of these
sort of vows,' which he had learned to reverence when
young, as I well remember teaching him to toss up for bogberries on my knee. So I saw the affair was as good as
settled between him and Miss Isabella, and I had no more
to say but to wish her joy, which I did the week afterwards, upon her return from Scotland with my poor m aster.
My new lady was young, as might be supposed of a lady
that had been carried off by her own consent to Scotland;
but I could only see her at first thr ough her veil, which,
from bashfulness or fashion, she kept over her face.
"And am I to walk through all this crowd of people, my
dearest love? " said she to Sir Condy, meaning us servants
and tenants, who had gathered at the back gate.
" My dear, " said Sir Condy, "there's nothing for it but
to walk, or to let me carry you as far as the house, for you
see the back road is too narrow for a carriage, and the great
piers have tumbled down across the front approach; so
there's no driving the right way, by reason of the ruins."
" Plato, thou reasonest well! " said she, or words to that
effect, which I could noways understand; and again, when
her foot stumbled against a broken bit of a car-wheel, she
cried out, "Angels and ministers of grace defend us!"
Well, thought I, to be sure, if she's no Jewish, like the
last., she is a mad woman for certain, which is as bad: it
would have been as well for my poor master to have taken
up with poor Judy, who is in her right mind anyhow.
She was dressed like a mad woman, moreover, more than
like any one I ever saw afore or since, and I could not take
my eyes off her, but still followed behind her; and her
feathers on the top of her hat were broke going in at the
IVows.-It has been maliciously and unjustly hinted that the lower classes
of the people of Ireland pay but little regard to oaths; yet it is certain that
some oaths or vows have great power over their minds. Sometimes they
swear they will be revenged on some of their neighbours; this is an oath that
they are never known to break. But, what is infinitely more extraordinary
and unaccountable, they sometimes make and keep a vow against whisky;
these vows are usually limited to a short time. A woman who has a drunken
husband is most fortunate if she can prevail upon him to go to the priest, and
make a vow against whisky for a year, or a month, or a week, or a day.
30




CASTLE RACKRENT


low back door, and she pulled out her little bottle out of
her pocket to smell when she found herself in the kitchen,
and said, "I shall faint with the heat of this odious, odious
place."
"My dear, it's only three steps across the kitchen, and
there's a fine air if your veil was up," said Sir Condy; and
with that threw back her veil, so that I had then a full sight
of her face. She had not at all the colour of one going to
faint, but a fine complexion of her own, as I then took it
to be, though her maid told me after it was all put on; but
even complexion and all taken in, she was no way, in point
of good looks, to compare to poor Judy, and withal she
had a quality toss with her; but maybe it was my overpartiality to Judy, into whose place I may say she stepped,
that made me notice all this.
To do her justice, however, she was, when we came to
know her better, very liberal in her housekeeping-nothing
at all of the skinflint in her; she left everything to the
housekeeper, and her own maid, Mrs. Jane, who went with
her to Scotland, gave her the best of characters for generosity. She seldom or ever wore a thing twice the same
way, Mrs. Jane told us, and was always pulling her things
to pieces and giving them away, never being used, in her
father's house, to think of expense in anything; and she
reckoned to be sure to go on the same way at Castle Rackrent; but when I came to inquire, I learned that her father
was so mad with her for running off, after his locking her
up and forbidding her to think any more of Sir Condy, that
he would not give her a farthing; and it was lucky for her
she had a few thousands of her own, which had been left to
her by a good grandmother, and these were very convenient
to begin with. My master and my lady set out in great
style; they had the finest coach and chariot, and horses
and liveries, and cut the greatest dash in the county, returning their wedding visits; and it was immediately
reported that her father had undertaken to pay all my
master's debts, and of course all his tradesmen gave him a
new credit, and everything went on smack smooth, and I
could not but admire my lady's spirit, and was proud to
3'




CASTLE RACKRENT


see Castle Rackrent again in all its glory. My lady had a
fine taste for building, and furniture, and playhouses, and
she turned everything topsy-turvy, and made the barrackroom into a theatre, as she called it, and she went on as if
she had a mint of money at her elbow; and to be sure I
thought she knew best, especially as Sir Condy said nothing to it one way or the other. All he asked-God bless
him!-was to live in peace and quietness, and have his
bottle or his whisky-punch at night to himself. Now this
was little enough, to be sure, for any gentleman; but my
lady could n't abide the smell of the whisky-punch.
"My dear," says he, "you liked it well enough before we
were married, and why not now?"
"My dear," said she, "I never smelt it, or I assure you
I should never have prevailed upon myself to marry you."
"My dear, I am sorry you did not smell it, but we can't
help that now," returned my master, without putting himself in a passion, or going out of his way, but just fair and
easy helped himself to another glass, and drank it off to her
good health.
All this the butler told me, who was going backwards
and forwards unnoticed with the jug, and hot water, and
sugar, and all he thought wanting. Upon my master's
swallowing the last glass of whisky-punch my lady burst
into tears, calling him an ungrateful, base, barbarous
wretch; and went off into a fit of hysterics, as I think
Mrs. Jane called it, and my poor master was greatly frightened, this being the first thing of the kind he had seen;
and he fell straight on his knees before her, and, like a
good-hearted cratur as he was, ordered the whisky-punch
out of the room, and bid 'em throw open all the windows,
and cursed himself: and then my lady came to herself
again, and when she saw him kneeling there, bid him get
up, and not forswear himself any more, for that she was
sure he did not love her, and never had. This we learned
from Mrs. Jane, who was the only person left present at
all this.
"My dear," returns my master, thinking, to be sure, of
Judy, as well he might, "whoever told you so is an incend32




CASTLE RACKRENT


iary, and I'll have 'em turned out of the house this minute,
if you '11 only let me know which of them it was."
"Told me what? " said my lady, starting upright in her
chair.
"Nothing at all, nothing at all," said my master, seeing
he had overshot himself, and that my lady spoke at random; "but what you said just now, that I did not love
you, Bella; who told you that? "
" My own sense," she said., and she put her handkerchief
to her face., and leant back upon Mrs. Jane, and fell to
sobbing as if her heart would break.
"Why npw, Bella, this is very strange of you," said my
poor master; "if nobody has told you nothing, what is it
you are ta'king on for at this rate, and exposing yourself
and me for this way?"
" Oh., say no more, say no more; every word you say
kills me," cried my lady; and she ran on like one, as Mrs.
Jane says, raving, " Oh, Sir Condy, Sir Condy! I that had
hoped to find in you  9
"Why now, faith, this is a little too much; do, Bella,
try to recollect yourself, my dear; am not I your husband,
and of your own choosing, and is not that enough?"
"4'Oh, too much! too much!" cried my lady, wringing
her hands.
"Why, my dear, come to your right senses, for the love
of heaven. See, is not the whisky-punch, jug and bowl
and all, gone out of the room long ago? What is it, in the
wide world, you have to complain of? "
But still my lady sobbed and sobbed, and called herself
the most wretched of women; and among other out-of-theway provoking things, asked my master, was he fit company for her, and he drinking all night? This nettling him,
which it was hard to do, he replied, that as to drinking all
night, he was then as sober as she was herself, and that it
was no matter how much a man drank, provided it did noways affect or stagger him: that as to being fit company
for her, he thought himself of a family to be fit company
for any lord or lady in the land; but that he never prevented her from seeing and keeping what company she




33




CASTLE RACKRENT


pleased, and that he had done his best to make Castle
Rackrent pleasing to her since her marriage, having always
had the house full of visitors, and if her own relations were
not amongst them, he said that was their own fault, and
their pride's fault, of which he was sorry to find her ladyship had so unbecoming a share. So concluding, he took
his candle and walked off to his room, and my lady was in
her tantarums for three days after; and would have been so
much longer, no doubt, but some of her friends, young
ladies, and cousins, and second cousins, came to Castle
Rackrent, by my poor master's express invitation, to see
her, and she was in a hurry to get up, as Mrs. Jane called it,
a play for them, and so got well, and was as finely dressed,
and as happy to look at, as ever; and all the young
ladies, who used to be in her room dressing of her, said in
Mrs. Jane's hearing that my lady was the happiest bride ever
they had seen, and that to be sure a love-match was the
only thing for happiness, where the parties could any way
afford it.
As to affording it, God knows it was little they knew of
the matter; my lady's few thousands could not last for
ever, especially the way she went on with them; and letters from tradesfolk came every post thick and threefold,
with bills as long as my arm, of years' and years' standing.
My son Jason had 'em all handed over to him, and the
pressing letters were all unread by Sir Condy, who hated
trouble, and could never be brought to hear talk of business, but still put it off and put it off, saying, "Settle it
anyhow," or, "Bid 'em call again to-morrow," or, "Speak
to me about it some other time." Now it was hard to find
the right time to speak, for in the mornings he was a-bed,
and in the evenings over his bottle, where no gentleman
chooses to be disturbed. Things in a twelvemonth or so
came to such a pass there was no making a shift to go on
any longer, though we were all of us well enough used to
live from hand to mouth at Castle Rackrent. One day, I
remember, when there was a power of company, all sitting
after dinner in the dusk, not to say dark, in the drawingroom, my lady having rung five times for candles, and
34




CASTLE RACKRENT


none to go up, the housekeeper sent up the footman, who
went to my mistress, and whispered behind her chair how
it was.
"My lady," says he, "there are no candles in the house."
"Bless me," says she; "then take a horse and gallop off
as fast as you can to Carrick O'Fungus, and get some."
"And in the meantime tell them to step into the playhouse, and try if there are not some bits left," added Sir
Condy, who happened to be within hearing. The man
was sent up again to my lady, to let her know there was
no horse to go, but one that wanted a shoe.
"Go to Sir Condy then; I know nothing at all about the
horses," said my lady; "why do you plague me with these
things?"   How it was settled, I really forget, but to the
best of my remembrance, the boy was sent down to my
son Jason's to borrow candles for the night. Another
time, in the winter, and on a desperate cold day, there was
no turf in for the parlour and above stairs, and scarce
enough for the cook in the kitchen. The little gossoon1
was sent off to the neighbours, to see and beg or borrow
some, but none could he bring back with him for love or
money; so, as needs must, we were forced to trouble Sir
Condy-"'Well, and if there's no turf to be had in the town
or country, why, what signifies talking any more about it;
can't ye go and cut down a tree?"
"Which tree, please your honour?" I made bold to say.
"Any tree at all that's good to burn," said Sir Condy;
"send off smart and get one down, and the fires lighted,
before my lady gets up to breakfast, or the house will be
too hot to hold us."
He was always very considerate in all things about my
lady, and she wanted for nothing whilst he had it to give.
Well, when things were tight with them about this time,
my son Jason put in a word again about the Lodge, and
1 Gossoon: a little boy-from the French word garfon. In most Irish
families there used to be a barefooted gossoon, who was slave to the cook and
the butler, and who, in fact, without wages, did all the hard work of the
house. Gossoons were always employed as messengers. The Editor has
known a gossoon to go on foot, without shoes or stockings, fifty-one English
miles between sunrise and sunset.
35




CASTLE RACKRENT


made a genteel offer to lay down the purchase-money, to
relieve Sir Condy's distresses. Now Sir Condy had it
from the best authority that there were two writs come
down to the sheriff against his person, and the sh&.riff, as
ill-luck would have it, was no friend of his, and talked how
he must do his duty, and how he would do it, if it was
against the first man in the country, or even his own
brother, let alone one who had voted against him at the
last election, as Sir Condy had done. So Sir Condy was
fain to take the purchase-money of the Lodge from my
son Jason to settle matters; and sure enough it was a good
bargain for both parties, for my son bought the fee-simple
of a good house for him and his heirs for ever, for little or
nothing, and by selling of it for that same my master saved
himself from a gaol. Every way it turned out fortunate
for Sir Condy, for before the money was all gone there
came a general election, and he being so well beloved in
the county, and one of the oldest families; no one had a
better right to stand candidate for the vacancy; and he
was called upon by all his friends, and the whole county I
may say, to declare himself against the old member, who
had little thought of a contest. My master did not relish
the thoughts of a troublesome canvas, and all the ill-will
he might bring upon himself by disturbing the peace of the
county., besides the expense, which was no trifle; but all
his friends called upon one another to subscribe, and they
formed themselves into a committee, and wrote all his circular letters for him, and engaged all his agents, and did
all the business unknown to him; and he was well pleased
that it should be so at last', and my lady herself was very
sanguine about the election; and there was open house
kept night and day at Castle Rackrent, and I thought I
never saw my lady look so well in her life as she did at that
time. There were grand dinners, and all the gentlemen
drinking success to Sir Condy till they were carried off;and then dances and balls, and the ladies all finishing with
a raking pot of tea in the morning.' Indeed, it was well
the company made it their choice to sit up all night, for
I See Glossary.
36




CASTLE RACKRENT


there were not half beds enough for the sights of people
that were in it, though there were shake-downs in the
drawing-room always made up before sunrise for those that
liked it. For my part, when I saw the doings that were
going on, and the loads of claret that went down the
throats of them that had no right to be asking for it, and
the sights of meat that went up to table and never came
down, besides what was carried off to one or t'other below
stair, I couldn't but pity my poor master, who was to pay
for all; but I said nothing, for fear of gaining myself illwill. The day of election will come some time or other,
says I to myself, and all will be over; and so it did, and a
glorious day it was as any I ever had the happiness to see.
"Huzza! huzza!     Sir Condy Rackrent for ever!" was
the first thing I hears in the morning, and the same and
nothing else all day, and not a soul sober only just when
polling, enough to give their votes as became 'em, and to
stand the browbeating of the lawyers, who came tight
enough upon us; and many of our freeholders were
knocked off, having never a freehold that they could safely
swear to, and Sir Condy was not willing to have any man
perjure himself for his sake, as was done on the other side,
God knows; but no matter for that. Some of our friends
were dumbfounded by the lawyers asking them: Had they
ever been upon the ground where their freeholds lay?
Now, Sir Condy being tender of the consciences of them
that had not been on the ground, and so could not swear
to a freehold when cross-examined by them lawyers, sent
out for a couple of cleavesful of the sods of his farm of
Gulteeshinnagh'; and as soon as the sods came into town,
he set each man upon his sod, and so then, ever after, you
I At St. Patrick's meeting, London, March, 18o6, the Duke of Sussex said
he had the honour of bearing an Irish title, and, with the permission of the
company, he should tell them an anecdote of what he had experienced on his
travels. When he was at Rome he went to visit an Irish seminary, and when
they heard who it was, and that he had an Irish title, some of them asked
him, " Please your Royal Highness, since you are an Irish peer, will you tell
us if you ever trod upon Irish ground?" When he told them he had not,
"Oh, then," said one of the Order, "you shall soon do so." They then
spread some earth, which had been brought from Ireland, on a marble slab,
and made him stand upon it.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


know, they could fairly swear they had been upon the
ground.1 We gained the day by this piece of honesty.2 I
thought I should have died in the streets for joy when I
seed my poor master chaired, and he bareheaded, and it
raining as hard as it could pour; but all the crowds following him up and down, and he bowing and shaking hands
with the whole town.
"Is that Sir Condy Rackrent in the chair?" says a
stranger man in the crowd.
"The same," says I. "Who else should it be? God
bless him! "
"And I take it, then, you belong to him?" says he.
"Not at all," says I; "but I live under him, and have
done so these two hundred years and upwards, me and
mine."
"It's lucky for you, then," rejoins he, "that he is where
he is; for was he anywhere else but in the chair, this
minute he'd be in a worse place; for I was sent down on
purpose to put him up,3 and here's my order for so doing
in my pocket."
It was a writ that villain the wine merchant had marked
against my poor master for some hundreds of an old debt,
which it was a shame to be talking of at such a time as this.
"Put it in your pocket again, and think no more of it
anyways for seven years to come, my honest friend," says
I; "he's a member of Parliament now, praised be God,
and such as you can't touch him: and if you'll take a fool's
advice, I'd have you keep out of the way this day, or
you'll run a good chance of getting your deserts amongst
my master's friends, unless you choose to drink his health
like everybody else."
S"I've no objection to that in life," said he. So we went
into one of the public-houses kept open for my master;
and we had a great deal of talk about this thing and that.
"And how is it," says he, "your master keeps on so well
upon his legs? I heard say he was off Holantide twelvemonth past."
1 This was actually done at an election in Ireland.  2 See Glossary.
3 Toput him up: to put him in gaol.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


"Never was better or heartier in his life," said I.
"It's not that I'm after speaking of," said he; "but
there was a great report of his being ruined."
"No matter," says I, "the sheriffs two years running
were his particular friends, and the sub-sheriffs were both
of them gentlemen, and were properly spoken to; and so
the writs lay snug with them, and they, as I understand
by my son Jason the custom in them cases is, returned the
writs as they came to them to those that sent 'em-much
good may it do them!-with a word in Latin, that no such
person as Sir Condy Rackrent, Bart., was to be found in
those parts.''
" Oh, I understand all those ways better-no offencethan you," says he, laughing, and at the same time filling
his glass to my master's good health, which convinced me
he was a warm friend in his heart after all, though appearances were a little suspicious or so at first. " To be sure,"Y
says he, still cutting his joke, "when a man's over head
and shoulders in debt,, he may live the faster for it, and
the better if he goes the right way about it; or else how is
it so many live on so well, as we see every day, after they
are ruined? "
"How is it," says I, being a little merry at the time"how is it but just as you see the ducks in the chickenyard, just after their heads are cut off by the cook, running
round and round faster than when alive? "
At which conceit he fell a-laughing, and remarked he
had never had the happiness yet to see the chicken-yard at
Castle Rackrent.
" It won't be long so, I hope, " says I; "you'll be kindly
welcome there, as everybody is made by my master: there
is not a freer-spoken gentleman, or a better beloved, high
or low, in all Ireland."
And of what passed after this I'm not sensible, for wve
drank Sir Condy's good health and the dowvnfall of his
enemies till we could stand no longer ourselves. And
little did I think at the time, or till long after, how I was
harbouring my poor master's greatest of enemies myself.
This fellow had the impudence, after coming to see the
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CASTLE RACKRENT


chicken-yard, to get me to introduce him to my son Jason;
little more than the man that never was born did I guess
at his meaning by this visit: he gets him a correct list
fairly drawn out from my son Jason of all my master's
debts, and goes straight round to the creditors and buys
them all up, which he did easy enough, seeing the half of
them never expected to see their money out of Sir Condy's
hands. Then, when this base-minded limb of the law, as
I afterwards detected him in being, grew to be sole creditor
over all, he takes him out a custodiam on all the denominations and sub-denominations, and even carton' and halfcarton upon the estate; and not content with that, must
have an execution against the master's goods and down to
the furniture, though little worth, of Castle Rackrent itself.
But this is a part of my story I'm not come to yet, and it's
bad to be forestalling: ill news flies fast enough all the
world over.'
To go back to the day of the election, which I never
think of but with pleasure and tears of gratitude for those
good times: after the election was quite and clean over,
there comes shoals of people from all parts, claiming to
have obliged my master with their votes, and putting him
in mind of promises which he could never remember himself to have made: one was to have a freehold for each of
his four sons; another was to have a -renewal of a lease;
another an abatement; one came to be paid ten guineas
for a pair of silver buckles sold my master on the hustings,
which turned out to be no better than copper gilt; another
had a long bill for oats, the half of which never went into
the granary to my certain knowledge, and the other half
was not fit for the cattle to touch; but the bargain was
made the week before the election, and the coach. and
saddle-horses were got into order for the day, besides a
vote fairly got by them oats; so no more reasoning on that
head. But then there was no end to them that were telling Sir Condy he had engaged to make their sons excisemen, or high constables, or the like; and as for them that
had bills to give in for liquor, and beds, and straw, and
I See Glossary.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


ribands, and horses, and post-chaises for the gentlemen
freeholders that came from all parts and other counties to
vote for my master, and were not, to be sure, to be at any
charges, there was no standing against all these; and, worse
than all, the gentlemen of my master's committee, who
managed all for him, and talked how they'd bring him in
without costing him a penny, and subscribed by hundreds
very genteelly, forgot to pay their subscriptions, and had
laid out in agents' and lawyers' fees and secret service
money to the Lord knows how much; and my master could
never ask one of them for their subscription you are sensible, nor for the price of a fine horse he had sold one of
them; so it all was left at his door. He could never, God
bless him again! I say, bring himself to ask a gentleman
for money, despising such sort of conversation himself; but
others, who were not gentlemen born, behaved very uncivil
in pressing him at this very time, and all he could do to
content 'em all was to take himself out of the way as fast
as possible to Dublin, where my lady had taken a house
fitting for him as a member of Parliament, to attend his
duty in there all the winter. I was very lonely when the
whole family was gone, and all the things they had ordered
to go, and forgot, sent after them by the car. There was
then a great silence in Castle Rackrent, and I went moping
from room to room, hearing the doors clap for want of
right locks, and the wind through the broken windows,
that the glazier never would come to mend, and the rain
coming through the roof and best ceilings all over the
house for want of the slater, whose bill was not paid, besides our having no slates or shingles for that part of the
old building which was shingled and burnt when the chimney took fire, and had been open to the weather ever since.
I took myself to the servants' hall in the evening to smoke
my pipe as usual, but missed the bit of talk we used to
have there sadly, and ever after was content to stay in the
kitchen and boil my little potatoes,' and put up my bed
I My little potatoes.-Thady does not mean by this expression that his
potatoes were less than other people's, or less than the usual size. Little is
here used only as an Italian diminutive, expressive of fondness.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


there, and every post-day I looked in the newspaper, but
no news of my master in the House; he never spoke good
or bad, but, as the butler wrote down word to my son
Jason, was very ill-used by the Government about a place
that was promised him and never given, after his supporting them against his conscience very honourably, and being
greatly abused for it, which hurt him greatly, he having
the name of a great patriot in the country before. The
house and living in Dublin too were not to be had for
nothing, and my son Jason said, "Sir Condy must soon
be looking out for a new agent, for I've done my part, and
can do no more. If my lady had the bank of Ireland to
spend, it would go all in one winter, and Sir Condy would
never gainsay her, though he does not care the rind of a
lemon for her all the while."
Now I could not bear to hear Jason giving out after this
manner against the family, and twenty people standing by
in the street. Ever since he had lived at the Lodge of his
own he looked down, howsomever, upon poor old Thady,
and was grown quite a great gentleman, and had none of
his relations near him; no wonder he was no kinder to poor
Sir Condy than to his own kith or kin.' In the spring it
was the villain that got the list of the debts from him
brought down the custodiam, Sir Condy still attending his
duty in Parliament; and I could scarcely believe my own
old eyes, or the spectacles*with which I read it, when I was
shown my son Jason's name joined in the custodiam; but
he told me it was only for form's sake, and to make things
easier than if all the land was under the power of a total
stranger. Well, I did not know what to think; it was hard
to be talking ill of my own, and I could not but grieve for
my poor master's fine estate, all torn by these vultures of
the law; so I said nothing, but just looked on to see how
it would all end.
It was not till the month of June that he and my lady
came down to the country. My master was pleased to
take me aside with him to the brewhouse that same evening,
I Kith and kin.: family or relations. Kin from kind; kith from we know
not what.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


to complain to me of my son and other matters, in which
he said he was confident I had neither art nor part; he said
a great deal more to me, to whom he had been fond to talk
ever since he was my white-headed boy before he came to
the estate; and all that he said about poor Judy I can
never forget, but scorn to repeat. He did not say an unkind word of my lady, but wondered, as well he might, her
relations would do nothing for him or her, and they in all
this great distress. He did not take anything long to
heart,, let it be as it would, and had no more malice or
thought of the like in him than a child that can't speak;
this night it was all out of his head before he went to his
bed. He took his jug of whisky-punch-my lady was grown
quite easy about the whisky-punch by this time, and so I
did suppose all was going on right betwixt them, till I
learnt the truth through Mrs. Jane, who talked over the
affairs to the housekeeper, and I within hearing. The
night my master came home, thinking of nothing at all but
just making merry, he drank his bumper toast "to the deserts of that old curmudgeon my father-in-law, and all
enemies at Mount Juliet's Town." Now my lady was
no longer in the mind she formerly was, and did noways
relish hearing her own friends abused in her presence, she
said.
"Then why don't they show themselves your friends,"
said my master, "and oblige me with the loan of the money
I condescended, by your advice, my dear, to ask? It's now
three posts since I sent off my letter, desiring in the postscript a speedy answer by the return of the post, and no
account at all from them yet."
"I expect they'll write to me next post," says my lady,
and that was all that passed then; but it was easy from
this to guess there was a coolness betwixt them, and with
good cause.
The next morning, being post-day, I sent off the gossoon early to the post-office, to see was there any letter
likely to set matters to rights, and he brought back one
with the proper post-mark upon it, sure enough, and I had
no time to examine or make any conjecture more about it,
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CASTLE RACKRENT


for into the servants' hall pops Mrs.- Jane with a blue bandbox in her hand, quite entirely M`nad.i
"Dear ma'am, and what's the matter? " says 1.
"M~atter enough," says she; "don't you see my bandbox is wet through, and my best bonnet here spoiled, besides my lady's, and all by the rain coming in through that
gallery window that you might have got mended if you'd
had any sense, Thady, all the time we were in town in the
winter?"
"Sure, I could not get the glazier, ma'am," says L.
"You might have stopped it up anyhow," says she.
"So I did, ma'am, to the best of my- ability; one of the
panes with the old pillow-case, and the other with a piece
of the old stage green curtain. Sure I was as careful as
possible all the time you were away, and not a drop of rain
came in at that window of all the windows in the house, all
winter, ma'am, when under my care; and now the family's
come home, and it's summer-time, I never thought no
more about it, to be sure; but dear, it's a pity to think of
your bonnet, ma'am. But here's what will please you,
ma am-a letter from Mount Juliet's Town for my lady.
With that she snatches it from me without a word more,
and runs up the back stairs to my mistress; I follows with
a slate to'make up the window. This window was in the
long passage-or gallery, as my lady gave out orders to have
it called-in the gallery leading to my master's bedchamber
and hers. And when I went up with the slate, the door
having no lock, and the bolt spoilt, was ajar after Mrs.
Jane, and, as I was busy with the window, I heard all that
was saying within.
"Well, what'sin your letter, Bella, my dear?" says he:
"ityou're a long time spelling it over."
"Won't you shave this morning, Sir Condy?" says she,
and put the letter into her pocket.
" I shaved the day before yesterday, " said he, "my dear,
and that's not what I'm thinking of now; but anything to
oblige you, and to have peace and quietness, my dear"and presently I had a glimpse of him at the cracked glass
over the chimney-piece, standing up shaving himself to
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CASTLE RACKRENT


please my lady.  But she took no notice, but went on
reading her book, and Mrs. Jane doing her hair behind.
"What is it you're reading there, my dear?-phoo, I've
cut myself with this razor; the man's a cheat that sold it
me, but I have not paid him for it yet. What is it you're
reading there? Did you hear me asking you, my dear? "
" The Sorrows of Werter, " replies my lady, as well as I
could hear.
" I think more of the sorrows of Sir Condy, " says my
master, joking like. "What news from Mount Juliet's
Town? "
"No news," says she, "but the old story over again; my
friends all reproaching me still for what I can't help now."
" Is it for marrying me? " said my master, still shaving.
"What signifies, as you say, talking of that, when it can't
be help'd now? "
With that she heaved a great sigh that I heard plain
enough in the passage.
"'And did not you use me basely, Sir Condy, " says she,
"itnot to tell me you were ruined before I married you?"
"Tell you, my dear! " said he. "Did you ever ask me
one word about it? And had not you friends enough of
your own, that were telling you nothing else from morning
to night, if you'd have listened to them slanders? "
" No slanders, nor are my friends slanderers; and I can't
bear to hear them treated with disrespect as I do," says
my lady, and took out her pocket-handkerchief; "they are
the best of friends, and if I had taken their adviceBut my father was wrong to lock me up, I own. That
was the only unkind thing I can charge him with; for if he
had not locked me up, I should never have had a serious
thought of running away as I did."
"Well, my dear," said my master, "don't cry and make
yourself uneasy about it nowv, when it's all over, and you
have the man of your own choice, in spite of 'em. all."
" I was too young, I know, to make a choice at the time
you ran away with me, I'm sure, " says my lady, and
another sigh, which made my master, half-shaved as he
was, turn round upon her in surprise.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


"Why, Bell," says he," you can't deny what you know
as well as I do, that it was at your own particular desire,
and that twice under your own hand and seal expressed,
that I should carry you off as I did to Scotland, and marry
you there."~
"Well, say no more about it., Sir Condy, " said my lady,
pettish-like; " I was a child then, you know. "
"And as far as I know, you're little better now, my
dear Bella,,, to be talking in this manner to your husband's
face; but I won't take it ill of you, for I know it's something in that letter you put into your pocket just now that
has set you against me all on a sudden, and imposed upon
your understanding."~
"It's not so very easy as you think it, Sir Condy, to impose upon my understanding," said my lady.
"My dear," says he, "I have, and with reason, the best
opinion of your understanding of any man now breathing;
and you know I have never set my own in competition
with it till now., my dear Bella," says he, taking her hand
from her book as kind as could be-'"'till now, when I have
the great advantage of being quite cool, and you not; so
don't believe one word your friends say against your own
Sir Condy, and lend me the letter out of your pocket, till
I see what it is they can have to say."
"Take it then," says she; " and as you are quite cool,
I hope it is a proper time to request you'll allow me to
comply with the wishes of all my own friends, and' return
to live with my father and family, during the remainder of
my wretched existence, at Mount Juliet's Town."
At this my poor master fell back a few paces, like one
that had been shot.
"You're not serious, Bella," says he; "4and could you
find it in your heart to leave me this way in the very
middle of my distresses, all alone?". But recollecting himself after his first surprise, and a moment's time for reflection, he said, with a great deal of consideration for my
lady, "Well, Bella, my dear, I believe you are right; for
what could you do at Castle Rackrent, and an execution
against the goods coming down, and the furniture to be
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CASTLE RACKRENT


canted, and an auction in the house all next week? So
you have my full consent to go, since that is your desire;
only you must not think of my accompanying you, which
I could not in honour do upon the terms I always have
been, since our marriage, with your friends. Besides, I
have business to transact at home; so in the meantime, if
we are to have any breakfast this morning, let us go down
and have it for the last time in peace and comfort, Bella."
Then as I heard my master coming to the passage door,
I finished fastening up my slate against the broken pane;
and when he came out I wiped down the window-seat with
my wig,1 and bade him a "good-morrow" as kindly as I
could, seeing he was in trouble, though he strove and
thought to hide it from me.
"This window is all racked and tattered," says I, "and
it's what I'm striving to mend."
"It is all racked and tattered, plain enough," says he,
"and never mind mending it, honest old Thady," says he;
"it will do well enough for you and I, and that's all the
company we shall have left in the house by and by."
"I'm  sorry to see your honour so low this morning,"
says I; "but you'll be better after taking your breakfast."
"Step down to the servants' hall," said he, "and bring
me up the pen and ink into the parlour, and get a sheet
of paper from Mrs. Jane, for I have business that can't
brook to be delayed; and come into the parlour with the
pen and ink yourself, Thady, for I must have you to witness my signing a paper I have to execute in a hurry."
Well, while I was getting of the pen and ink-horn, and
the sheet of paper, I ransacked my brains to think what
I Wigs were formerly used instead of brooms in Ireland for sweeping or
dusting tables, stairs, etc. The Editor doubted the fact till he saw a labourer
of the old school sweep down a flight of stairs with his wig; he afterwards put
it on his head again with the utmost composure, and said, " Oh, please your
honour, it's never a bit the worse."
It must be acknowledged that these men are not in any danger of catching
cold by taking off their wigs occasionally, because they usually have fine crops
of hair growing under their wigs. The wigs are often yellow, and the hair
which appears from beneath them black; the wigs are usually too small, and
are raised up by the hair beneath, or by the ears of the wearers.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


could be the papers my poor master could have to execute
in such a hurry, he that never thought of such a thing as
doing business afore breakfast in the whole course of his
life, for any man living; but this was for my lady, as I
afterwards found, and the more genteel of him after all her
treatment.
I was just witnessing the paper that he had scrawled
over, and was shaking the ink out of my pen upon the
carpet, when my lady came in to breakfast, and she started
as if it had been a ghost; as well she might, when she saw
Sir Condy writing at this unseasonable hour.
"That will do very well, Thady," says he to me, and
took the paper I had signed to, without knowing what
upon the earth it might be, out of my hands, and walked,
folding it up, to my lady.
"You are concerned in this, my Lady Rackrent," said
he, putting it into her hands; "and I beg you'll keep this
memorandum safe, and show it to your friends the first
thing you do when you get home; but put it in your
pocket now, my dear, and let us eat our breakfast, in God's
name. ''
"What is all this?" said my lady, opening the paper in
great curiosity.
"It's only a bit of a memorandum of what I think becomes me to do whenever I am able," says my master;
"you know my situation, tied hand and foot at the present
time being, but that can't last always, and when I'm dead
and gone the land will be to the good, Thady, you know;
and take notice it's my intention your lady should have a
clear five hundred a year jointure off the estate afore any
of my debts are paid."
"Oh, please your honour," says I, "I can't expect to
live to see that time, being now upwards of fourscore years
of age, and you a young ifian, and likely to continue so,
by the help of God."
I was vexed to see my lady so insensible too, for all she
said was, "This is very genteel of you, Sir Condy. You
need not wait any longer, Thady." So I just picked up
the pen and ink that had tumbled on the floor, and heard
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CASTLE RACKRENT


my master finish with saying, "You behaved very genteel
to me, my dear, when you threw all the little you had in
your power along with yourself into my hands; and as I
don't deny but what you may have had some things to
complain of,"-to be sure he was thinking then of Judy,
or of the whisky-punch, one or t'other, or both,-"and as
I don't deny but you may have had something to complain
of, my dear, it is but fair you should have something in the
form of compensation to look forward to agreeably in
future; besides, it's an act of justice to myself, that none
of your friends, my dear, may ever have it to say against
me, I married for money, and not for love."
"That is the last thing I should ever have thought of
saying of you, Sir Condy," said my lady, looking very
gracious.
"Then, my dear," said Sir Condy, "we shall part as
good friends as we met; so all's right."
I was greatly rejoiced to hear this, and went out of the
parlour to report it all to the kitchen. The next morning
my lady and Mrs. Jane set out for Mount Juliet's Town in
the jaunting-car. Many wondered at my lady's choosing
to go away, considering all things, upon the jaunting-car,
as if it was only a party of pleasure; but they did not know
till I told them that the coach was all broke in the journey
down, and no other vehicle but the car to be had. Besides, my lady's friends were to send their coach to meet
her at the cross-roads; so it was all done very proper.
My poor master was in great trouble after my lady left
us. The execution came down, and everything at Castle
Rackrent was seized by the gripers, and my son Jason, to
his shame be it spoken, amongst them. I wondered, for
the life of me, how he could harden himself to do it; but
then he had been studying the law, and had made himself
Attorney Quirk; so he brought down at once a heap of
accounts upon my master's head. To cash lent, and to
ditto, and to ditto, and to ditto and oats, and bills paid at
the milliner's and linen-draper's, and many dresses for the
fancy balls in Dublin for my lady, and all the bills to the
workmen and tradesmen for the scenery of the theatre,


4


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CASTLE RACKRENT


and the chandler's and grocer's bills, and tailor's, besides
butcher's and baker's, and, worse than all, the old one of
that base wine merchant's, that wanted to arrest my poor
master for the amount on the election day, for which
amount Sir Condy afterwards passed his note of hand,
bearing lawful interest from the date thereof; and the interest and compound interest was now mounted to a terrible
deal on many other notes and bonds for money borrowed,
and there was, besides, hush-money to the sub-sheriffs, and
sheets upon sheets of old and new attorneys' bills, with
heavy balances, " as per former account furnished, " brought
forward with interest thereon; then there was a powerful
deal due to the Crown for sixteen years' arrear of quit-rent
of the town-lands of Carrickashaughlin, with driver's fees,
and a compliment to the receiver every year for letting the
quit-rent run on to oblige Sir Condy, and Sir Kit afore him.
Then there were bills for spirits and ribands at the election
time, and the gentlemen of the committee's accounts unsettled, and their subscription never gathered; and there
were cows to be paid for, with the smith and farrier's bills
to be set against the rent of the demesne, with calf and hay
money; then there was all the servants' wages, since I
don't know when, coming due to them, and sums advanced for them by my son Jason for clothes, and boots,
and whips, and odd moneys for sundries expended by them
in journeys to town and elsewhere, and pocket-money for
the master continually, and messengers and postage before
his being a Parliament man. I can't myself tell you what
besides; but this I know, that when the evening came on
the which Sir Condy had appointed to settle all with my
son Jason, and when he comes into the parlour, and sees
the sight of bills and load of papers all gathered on the
great dining-table for him, he puts his hands before both
his eyes, and cried out, " Merciful Jasus! what is it I see before me? " Then I sets an arm-chair- at the table for him,
and with a deal of difficulty he sits him down, and my son
Jason hands him over the pen and ink to sign to this man's
bill and t'other man's bill, all which he did without making
the least objections. Indeed, to give him his due, I never
so




CASTLE RACKRENT


seen a man more fair and honest, and easy in all his dealings, from first to last, as Sir Condy, or more willing to
pay every man his own as far as he was able, which is as
much as any one can do.
"Well," says he, joking like with Jason, "I wish we
could settle it all with a stroke of my grey goose quill.
What signifies making me wade through all this ocean of
papers here; can't you now, who understand drawing out
an account, debtor and creditor, just sit down here at the
corner of the table and get it done out for me, that I may
have a clear view of the balance, which is all I need be
talking about, you know?"
"Very true, Sir Condy; nobody understands business
better than yourself," says Jason.
"So I've a right to do, being born and bred to the bar,"
says Sir Condy. "Thady, do step out and see are they
bringing in the things for the punch, for we've just done
all we have to do for this evening."
I goes out accordingly, and when I came back Jason was
pointing to the balance, which was a terrible sight to my
poor master.
"Pooh! pooh! pooh!" says he.    "Here's so many
noughts they dazzle my eyes, so they do, and put me in
mind of all I suffered lamrning of my numeration table,
when I was a boy at the day-school along with you, Jason
-units, tens, hundreds, tens of hundreds. Is the punch
ready, Thady?" says he, seeing me.
"Immediately; the boy has the jug in his hand; it's
coming upstairs, please your honour, as'fast as possible,"
says I, for I saw his honour was tired out of his life; but
Jason, very short and cruel, cuts me off with-"Don't be
talking of punch yet awhile; it's no time for punch yet a
bit-units, tens, hundreds," goes he on, counting over
the master's shoulder, units, tens, hundreds, thousands.
"A-a-ah! hold your hand," cries my master. "Where
in this wide world am I to find hundreds, or units itself, let
alone thousands?"
"The balance has been running on too long," says Jason,
sticking to him as I could not have done at the time, if
5'




CASTLE RACKRENT


you'd have given both the Indies and Cork to boot; "the
balance has been running on too long, and I'm distressed
myself on your account, Sir Condy, for money, and the
thing must be settled now on the spot, and the balance
cleared off," says Jason.
"I'll thank you if you'll only show me how," says Sir
Condy.
"There's but one way," says Jason, "and that's ready
enough. When there's no cash, what can a gentleman do
but go to the land?"
" How can you go to the land, and it under custodiam
to yourself already? " says Sir Condy; "and another custodiam hanging over it? And no one at all can touch it,
you know, but the custodees."
"Sure, can't you sell, though at a loss? Sure you can
sell, and I've a purchaser ready for you," says Jason.
"Have you so? " says Sir Condy. "That's a great point
gained. But there's a thing now beyond all, that perhaps
you don't know yet, barring Thady has let you into the
secret."
"Sarrah bit of a secret, or anything at all of the kind,
has he learned from me these fifteen weeks come St. John's
Eve," says I, "for we have scarce been upon speaking
terms of late. But what is it your honour means of a
secret?"
"Why, the secret of the little keepsake I gave my Lady
Rackrent the morning she left us, that she might not go
back empty-handed to her friends."
"My Lady Rackrent, I'm sure, has baubles and keepsakes enough, as those bills on the table will show," says
Jason; "but whatever it is," says he, taking up his pen,
"we must add it to the balance, for to be sure it can't be
paid for."
"No, nor can't till after my decease," says Sir Condy;
"that's one good thing."  Then colouring up a good deal,
he tells Jason of the memorandum of the five hundred
a year jointure he had settled upon my lady; at which
Jason was indeed mad, and said a great deal in very high
words, that it was using a gentleman who had the manage52




CASTLE RACKRENT


ment of his affairs, and was, moreover, his principal creditor,
extremely ill to do such a thing without consulting him,
and against his knowledge and consent. To all which Sir
Condy had nothing to reply, but that, upon his conscience,
it was in a hurry and without a moment's thought on his
part, and he was very sorry for it, but if it was to do over
again he would do the same; and he appealed to me, and
I was ready to give my evidence, if that would do, to the
truth of all he said.
So Jason with much ado was brought to agree to a compromise.
"The purchaser that I have ready," says he, "will be
much displeased, to be sure, at the encumbrance on the
land, but I must see and manage him. Here's a deed ready
drawn up; we have nothing to do but to put in the consideration money and our names to it."
"And how much am I going to sell?-the lands of
O'Shaughlin's Town, and the lands of Gruneaghoolaghan,
and the lands of Crookaghnawaturgh," says he, just reading
to himself. "And-oh, murder, Jason! sure you won't
put this in-the castle, stable, and appurtenances of Castle
Rackrent?"
"Oh, murder! " says I, clapping my hands; "this is too
bad, Jason."
"Why so?" said Jason. "When it's all, and a great deal
more to the back of it, lawfully mine, was I to push for it."
"Look at him," says I, pointing to Sir Condy, who was
just leaning back in his arm-chair, with his arms falling
beside him like one stupefied; "is it you, Jason, that can
stand in his presence, and recollect all he has been to us,
and all we have been to him, and yet use him so at the
last?"
"Who will you find to use him better? I ask you," said
Jason; "if he can get a better purchaser, I'm content; I
only offer to purchase, to make things easy, and oblige
him; though I don't see what compliment I am under, if
you come to that. I have never had, asked, or charged
more than sixpence in the pound, receiver's fees, and
where would he have got an agent for a penny less?"
53




CASTLE RACKRENT


"Oh, Jason! Jason! how will you stand to this in the
face of the county, and all who know you?" says I; "and
what will people think and say when they see you living
here in Castle Rackrent, and the lawful owner turned out
of the seat of his ancestors, without a cabin to put his
head into, or so much as a potato to eat?"
Jason, whilst I was saying this, and a great deal more,
made me signs, and winks, and frowns; but I took no
heed, for I was grieved and sick at heart for my poor master, and couldn't but speak.
"Here's the punch," says Jason, for the door opened;
'"here's the punch! ''
Hearing that, my master starts up in his chair, and recollects himself, and Jason uncorks the whisky.
"Set down the jug here," says he, making room for it
beside the papers opposite to Sir Condy, but still not stirring the deed that was to make over all.
Well, I was in great hopes he had some touch of mercy
about him when I saw him making the punch, and my master took a glass; but Jason put it back as he was going to
fill again, saying: "No, Sir Condy, it shan't be said of me
I got your signature to this deed when you were half-seas
over: you know your name and handwriting in that condition would not, if brought before the courts, benefit me a
straw; wherefore, let us settle all before we go deeper into
the punch-bowl."
"Settle all as you will," said Sir Condy, clapping his
hands to his ears; "but let me hear no more. I'm bothered to death this night."
"You've only to sign," said Jason, putting the pen to
him.
"Take all, and be content," said my master. So he
signed; and the man who brought in the punch witnessed
it, for I was not able, but crying like a child; and besides,
Jason said, which I was glad of, that I was no fit witness,
being so old and doting. It was so bad with me, I could
not taste a drop of the punch itself, though my master
himself, God bless him! in the midst of his trouble, poured
out a glass for me, and brought it up to my lips.
54




CASTLE RACKRENT


"Not a drop; I thank your honour's honour as much as
if I took it, though." And I just set down the glass as it
was, and went out, and when I got to the street door the
neighbours' childer, who were playing at marbles there,
seeing me in great trouble, left their play, and gathered
about me to know what ailed me; and I told them all, for
it was a great relief to me to speak to these poor childer,
that seemed to have some natural feeling left in them; and
when they were made sensible that Sir Condy was going to
leave Castle Rackrent for good and all, they set up a whillaluh that could be heard to the farthest end of the street;
and one-fine boy he was-that my master had given an
apple to that morning, cried the loudest; but they all were
the same sorry, for Sir Condy was greatly beloved amongst
the childer, for letting them go a-nutting in the demesne,
without saying a word to them, though my lady objected
to them. The people in the town, who were the most of
them standing at their doors, hearing the childer cry, would
know the reason of it; and when the report was made
known, the people one and all gathered in great anger
against my son Jason, and terror at the notion of his coming to be landlord over them, and they cried, "No Jason!
no Jason! Sir Condy! Sir Condy! Sir Condy Rackrent
for ever! " And the mob grew so great and so loud, I was
frightened, and made my way back to the house to warn
my son to make his escape, or hide himself for fear of the
consequences. Jason would not believe me till they came
all round the house, and to the windows with great shouts.
Then he grew quite pale, and asked Sir Condy what had
he best do?
"I'll tell you what you had best do," said Sir Condy,
who was laughing to see his fright; "finish your glass first,
then let's go to the window and show ourselves, and I'll
tell 'em-or you shall, if you please-that I'm going to the
Lodge for change of air for my health, and by my own
desire, for the rest of my days."
"Do so," said Jason, who never meant it should have
been so, but could not refuse him the Lodge at this unseasonable time. Accordingly, Sir Condy threw up the
55




CASTLE RACKRENT


sash and explained matters, and thanked all his friends,
and bid them look in at the punch-bowl, and observe that
Jason and he had been sitting over it very good friends;
so the mob was content, and he sent them out some whisky
to drink his health, and that was the last time his honour'31s
health was ever drunk at Castle Rackrent.
The very next day, being too proud, as he said to me,
to stay an hour longer in a house that did not belong to
him, he sets off to the Lodge, and I along with him not
many hours after. And there was great bemoaning through
all O'Shaughlin's Town, which I stayed to witness, and
gave my poor master a full account of when I got to the
Lodge. He was very low, and in his bed, when I got
there, and complained of a great pain about his heart; but
I -guessed it was only trouble and all the business, let alone
vexation, he had gone through of late; and knowing the
nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and whilst
smoking it by the chimney began telling him how he was
beloved and regretted in the county, and it did him a deal
of good to hear it.
"Your honour has a great many friends yet that you
don't know of, rich and poor, in the county, " says I; " for
as I was coming along the road I met two gentlemen in
their own carriages, who asked after you, knowing me, and
wanted to know where you was and all about you, and
even how old I was. Think of that."
Then he wakened out of his doze, and begyan questioning
me who the gentlemen were. And the next morning it
came into my head- to go, unknown to anybody, with my
master's compliments, round to many of the gentlemen's
houses, where he and my lady used to visit, and (People
that I knew were his great friends, and would go t'o Cork
to serve him any day in the year, and I made bold to try
to borrow a trifle of cash from them. They all treated me
very civil for the most part, and asked a great many questions very kind about my lady and Sir Condy and all the
family, and were greatly s 'urprised to learn from me Castle
Rackrent was sold, and my master at the Lodge for health;
and they all pitied him greatly, and he had their good wishes,




CASTLE RACKRENT


if that would do; but money was a thing they unfortunately
had not any of them at this time to spare. I had my journey for my pains, and I, not used to walking, nor supple
as formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satisfaction of
telling my master, when I got to the Lodge, all the civil
things said by high and low.
"Thady," says he, "all you've been telling me brings a
strange thought into my head. I've a notion I shall not
be long for this world anyhow, and I've a great fancy to
see my own funeral afore I die." I was greatly shocked,
at the first speaking, to hear him speak so light about his
funeral, and he to all appearance in good health; but recollecting myself, answered:
"To be sure it would be as fine a sight as one could see,"
I dared to say, "and one I should be proud to witness," and
I did not doubt his honour's would be as great a funeral as
ever Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin's was, and such a one as that
had never been known in the county afore or since. But
I never thought he was in earnest about seeing his own
funeral himself till the next day he returns to it again.
"Thady," says he, "as far as the wake' goes, sure I
might without any great trouble have the satisfaction of
seeing a bit of my own funeral."
"Well, since your honour's honour's so bent upon it,"
says I, not willing to cross him, and he in trouble, "we
must see what we can do."
So he fell into a sort of sham disorder, which was easy
done, as he kept his bed, and no one to see him; and I
got my shister, who was an old woman very handy about
the sick, and very skilful, to come up to the Lodge to nurse
him; and we gave out, she knowing no better, that he was
just at his latter end, and it answered beyond anything;
and there was a great throng of people, men, women, and
childer, and there being only two rooms at the Lodge,
except what was locked up full of Jason's furniture and
things, the house was soon as full and fuller than it could
1 A " wake" in England is a meeting avowedly for merriment; in Ireland
it is a nocturnal meeting avowedly for the purpose of watching and bewailing
the dead, but in reality for gossiping and debauchery. See Glossary.
57




CASTLE RACKRENT


hold, and the heat, and smoke, and noise wonderful great;
and standing amongst them that were near the bed, but
not thinking at all of the dead, I was startled by the sound
of my master's voice from under the greatcoats that had
been thrown all at top, and I went close up, no one
noticing.
"Thady," says he, "I've had enough of this; I'm
smothering, and can't hear a word of all they're saying of
the deceased."
"God bless you, and lie still and quiet," says I, "a bit
longer, for my shister's afraid of ghosts, and would die on
the spot with fright was she to see you come to life all on
a sudden this way without the least preparation."
So he lays him still, though well nigh stifled, and I made
all haste to tell the secret of the joke, whispering to one
and t'other, and there was a great surprise, but not so great
as we had laid out it would. "And aren't we to have the
pipes and tobacco, after coming so far to-night?" said
some; but they were all well enough pleased when his
honour got up to drink with them, and sent for more
spirits from a shebeen-house,' where they very civilly let
him have it upon credit. So the night passed off very
(merrily, but to my mind Sir Condy was rather upon the
sad order in the midst of it all, not finding there had been
such a great talk about himself after his death as he had
always expected to hear.
The next morning, when the house was cleared of them,
and none but my shister and myself left in the kitchen with
Sir Condy, one opens the door and walks in, and who
should it be but Judy M'Quirk herself! I forgot to notice
that she had been married long since, whilst young Captain Moneygawl lived at the Lodge, to the captain's huntsman, who after a whilst 'listed and left her, and was killed
in the wars. Poor Judy fell off greatly in her good looks
after her being married a year or two; and being smokedried in the cabin, and neglecting herself like, it was hard
for Sir Condy himself to know her again till she spoke;
1 " Shebeen-house," a hedge alehouse. Shebeen properly means weak,
small-beer, taplash.
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CASTLE RACKRENT


but when she says, "It's Judy M'Quirk, please your honour; don't you remember her? "
"Oh, Judy, is it you? " says his honour. "Yes, sure, I
remember you very well; but you're greatly altered,
Judy."
"Sure it's time for me," says she. "And I think your
honour, since I seen you last-but that's a great while ago
-is altered too."
"And with reason, Judy," says Sir Condy, fetching a
sort of a sigh. "But how's this, Judy?" he goes on. "I
take it a little amiss of you that you were not at my wake
last night."
"Ah, don't be being jealous of that," says she; "I didn't
hear a sentence of your honour's wake till it was all over,
or it would have gone hard with me but I would have been
at it, sure; but I was forced to go ten miles up the country
three days ago to a wedding of a relation of my own's, and
didn't get home till after the wake was over. But," says
she, "it won't be so, I hope, the next time,1 please your
honour. '
"That we shall see, Judy," says his honour, "and maybe
sooner than you think for, for I've been very unwell this
while past, and don't reckon anyway I'm long for this
world."
At this Judy takes up the corner of her apron, and puts
it first to one eye and then to t'other, being to all appearance in great trouble; and my shister put in her word, and
bid his honour have a good heart, for she was sure it was
only the gout that Sir Patrick used to have flying about
him, and he ought to drink a glass or a bottle extraordinary
to keep it out of his stomach; and he promised to take
her advice, and sent out for more spirits immediately; and
Judy made a sign to me, and I went over to the door to
her, and she said, "I wonder to see Sir Condy so low: has
he heard the news? ''
"What news?" says I.
1 At the coronation of one of our monarchs the King complained of the
confusion which happened in the procession. The great officer who presided
told his Majesty that " it should not be so next time."
59




CASTLE RACKRENT


"Didn't ye hear it, then?" says she; "my Lady Rackrent that was is kilt and lying for dead, and I don't doubt
but it's all over with her by this time."
"Mercy on us all," says I; "how was it?"
"The jaunting-car it was that ran away with her," says
Judy. "I was coming home that same time from Biddy
M'Guggin's marriage, and a great crowd of people too upon
the road, coming from the fair of Crookaghnawaturgh, and
I sees a jaunting-car standing in the middle of the road,
and with the two wheels off and all tattered. 'What's
this?' says I.  'Didn't ye hear of it?' says they that were
looking on; 'it's my Lady Rackrent's car, that was running away from her husband, and the horse took fright at
a carrion that lay across the road, and so ran away with
the jaunting-car, and my Lady Rackrent and her maid
screaming, and the horse- ran with them against a car that
was coming from the fair with the boy asleep on it, and the
lady's petticoat hanging out of the jaunting-car caught,
and she was dragged I can't tell you how far upon the
road, and it all broken up with the stones just going to be
pounded, and one of the road-makers, with his sledgehammer in his hand, stops the horse at the last; but my
Lady Rackrent was all kilt and smashed,2 and they lifted
her into a cabin hard by, and the maid was found after
where she had been thrown in the gripe of a ditch, her cap
and bonnet all full of bog water, and they say my lady
can't live anyway.' Thady, pray now is it true what I'm
told for sartain, that Sir Condy has made over all to your
son Jason?"
"All," says I.
"All entirely? " says she again.
1 See Glossary.
S Kilt and smasked.-Our author is not here guilty of an anti-climax. The
mere English reader, from a similarity of sound between the words "kilt"
and "killed," might be induced to suppose that their meanings are similar,
yet they are not by any means in Ireland synonymous terms. Thus you may
hear a man exclaim, "I'm kilt and murdered!" but he frequently means
only that he has received a black eye or a slight contusion. " I'm kilt all
over" means that he is in a worse state than being simply "kilt." Thus,
"I'm kilt with the cold," is nothing to "I'm kilt all over with the
rheumatism."
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"All entirely," says I.
"Then," says she, "that's a great shame; but don't be
telling Jason what I say."
"And what is it you say? " cries Sir Condy, leaning over
betwixt us, which made Judy start greatly. "I know the
time when Judy M'Quirk would never have stayed so long
talking at the door and I in the house."
"Oh!" says Judy, "for shame, Sir Condy; times are
altered since then, and it's my Lady Rackrent you ought
to be thinking of."
"And why should I be thinking of her, that's not thinking of me now? " says Sir Condy.
"No matter for that," says Judy, very properly; "it's
time you should be thinking of her, if ever you mean
to do it at all, for don't you know she's lying for
death?"
"My Lady Rackrent! " says Sir Condy, in a surprise;
"why it's but two days since we parted, as you very well
know, Thady, in her full health and spirits, and she, and
her maid along with her, going to Mount Juliet's Town on
her jaunting-car."
"She'll never ride no more on her jaunting-car," said
Judy, "for it has been the death of her, sure enough."
"And is she dead then? " says his honour.
"As good as dead, I hear," says Judy; "but there's
Thady here as just learnt the whole truth of the story as I
had it, and it's fitter he or anybody else should be telling
it you than I, Sir Condy: I must be going home to the
childer."
But he stops her, but rather from civility in him, as I
could see very plainly, than anything else, for Judy was,
as his honour remarked at her first coming in, greatly
changed, and little likely, as far as I could see-though she
did not seem to be clear of it herself-little likely to be my
Lady Rackrent now, should there be a second toss-up to
be made. But I told him the whole story out of the face,
just as Judy had told it to me, and he sent off a messenger
with his compliments to Mount Juliet's Town that evening,
to learn the truth of the report, and Judy bid the boy that




CASTLE RACKRENT


was going call in at Tim M'Enerney's shop in O'Shaughlin's Town and buy her a new shawl.
"Do so," said Sir Condy, "and tell Tim to take no
money from you, for I must pay him for the shawl myself." At this my shister throws me over a look, and I
says nothing, but turned the tobacco in my mouth, whilst
Judy began making a many words about it, and saying
how she could not be beholden for shawls to any gentleman. I left her there to consult with my shister, did she
think there was anything in it, and my shister thought I
was blind to be asking her the question, and I thought my
shister must see more into it than I did, and recollecting
all past times and everything, I changed my mind, and
came over to her way of thinking, and we settled it that
Judy was very like to be my Lady Rackrent after all, if a
vacancy should have happened.
The next day, before his honour was up, somebody
comes with a double knock at the door, and I was greatly
surprised to see it was my son Jason.
"Jason, is it you?" said I; "what brings you to the
Lodge?" says I. "Is it my Lady Rackrent? We know
that already since yesterday."
"Maybe so," says he; "but I must see Sir Condy about
it."
"You can't see him yet," says I; "sure he is not awake."
"What then," says he, "can't he be wakened, and I
standing at the door? "
"I'll not be disturbing his honour for you, Jason," says
I; "many's the hour you've waited in your time, and been
proud to do it, till his honour was at leisure to speak to
you. His honour," says I, raising my voice, at which his
honour wakens of his own accord, and calls to me from the
room to know who it was I was speaking to. Jason made
no more ceremony, but follows me into the room.
"How are you, Sir Condy?" says he; "I'm happy to
see you looking so well; I came up to know how you did
to-day, and to see did you want for anything at the Lodge."
"Nothing at all, Mr. Jason, I thank you," says he; for
his honour had his own share of pride, and did not choose,
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CASTLE RACKRENT


after all that had passed, to be beholden, I suppose, to my
son; "but pray take a chair and be seated, Mr. Jason."
Jason sat him down upon the chest, for chair there was
none, and after he had set there some time, and a silence
on all sides,
"What news is there stirring in the country, Mr. Jason
M'Quirk?" says Sir Condy, very easy, yet high like.
"None that's news to you, Sir Condy, I hear," says
Jason. "I am sorry to hear of my Lady Rackrent's accident."
"I'm much obliged to you, and so is her ladyship, I'm
sure," answered Sir Condy, still stiff; and there was another sort of a silence, which seemed to lie the heaviest on
my son Jason.
"Sir Condy," says he at last, seeing Sir Condy disposing
himself to go to sleep again, "Sir Condy, I daresay you
recollect mentioning to me the little memorandum you
gave to Lady Rackrent about the -500 a year jointure."
"Very true," said Sir Condy; "it is all in my recollection."
"But if my Lady Rackrent dies, there's an end of all
jointure," says Jason.
"Of course," says Sir Condy.
"But it's not a matter of certainty that my Lady Rackrent won't recover," says Jason.
"Very true, sir," says my master.
"It's a fair speculation, then, for you to consider what
the chance of the jointure of those lands, when out of
custodiam, will be to you."
"Just five hundred a year, I take it, without any speculation at all," said Sir Condy.
"That's supposing the life dropt, and the custodiam off,
you know; begging your pardon, Sir Condy, who understands business, that is a wrong calculation."
"Very likely so," said Sir Condy; "but, Mr. Jason, if
you have anything to say to me this morning about it, I'd
be obliged to you to say it, for I had an indifferent night's
rest last night, and wouldn't be sorry to sleep a little this
morning."
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CASTLE RACKRENT


"I have only three words to say, and those more of consequence to you, Sir Condy, than me. You are a little
cool, I observe; but I hope you will not be offended at
what I have brought here in my pocket," and he pulls out
two long rolls, and showers down golden guineas upon the
bed.
"What's this," said Sir Condy; "it's long since-" but
his pride stops him.
"All these are your lawful property this minute, Sir
Condy, if you please," said Jason.
"Not for nothing, I'm sure," said Sir Condy, and laughs
a little. "Nothing for nothing, or I'm under a mistake
with you, Jason."
"Oh, Sir Condy, we'll not be indulging ourselves in any
unpleasant retrospects," says Jason; "it's my present intention to behave, as I'm sure you will, like a gentleman
in this affair. Here's two hundred guineas, and a third I
mean to add if you should think proper to make over to me
all your right and title to those lands that you know of."
"I'll consider of it," said my master; and a great deal
more, that I was tired listening to, was said by Jason, and
all that, and the sight of the ready cash upon the bed,
worked with his honour; and the short and the long of it
was, Sir Condy gathered up the golden guineas, and tied
them up in a handkerchief, and signed some paper Jason
brought with him as usual, and there was an end of the
business: Jason took himself away, and my master turned
himself round and fell asleep again.
I soon found what had put Jason in such a hurry to conclude this business. The little gossoon we had sent off the
day before with my master's compliments to Mount Juliet's
Town, and to know how my lady did after her accident,
was stopped early this morning, coming back with his answer through O'Shaughlin's Town, at Castle Rackrent, by
my son Jason, and questioned of all he knew of my lady
from the servant at Mount Juliet's Town; and the gossoon
told him my Lady Rackrent was not expected to live over
night; so Jason thought it high time to be moving to the
Lodge, to make his bargain with my master about the join64




CASTLE RACKRENT


ure afore it should be too late, and afore the little gossoon
hould reach us with the news. My master was greatly
vexed-that is, I may say, as much as ever I seen himwhen he found how he had been taken in; but it was some
comfort to have the ready cash for immediate consumption
in the house, anyway.
And when Judy came up that evening, and brought the
hilder to see his honour, he unties the handkerchief, and
God bless him! whether it was little or much he had,
twas all the same with him-he gives 'em all round guineas
apiece.
S"Hold up your head," says my shister to Judy, as Sir
Condy was busy filling out a glass of punch for her eldest
boy-" Hold up your head, Judy; for who knows but we
may live to see you yet at the head of the Castle Rackrent
estate?"
"Maybe so," says she, "but not the way you are thinking of."
I did not rightly understand which way Judy was looking
when she made this speech till a while after.
"Why, Thady, you were telling me yesterday that Sir
Condy had sold all entirely to Jason, and where then does
all them guineas in the handkerchief come from? "
"They are the purchase-money of my lady's jointure,"
says I.
Judy looks a little bit puzzled at this. "A penny for
your thoughts, Judy," says my shister; "hark, sure Sir
Condy is drinking her health."
He was at the table in the room,' drinking with the
exciseman and the gauger, who came up to see his honour,
and we were standing over the fire in the kitchen.
"I don't much care is he drinking my health or not,"
says Judy; "and it is not Sir Condy I'm thinking of, with
all your jokes, whatever he is of me."
"Sure you wouldn't refuse to be my Lady Rackrent,
Judy, if you had the offer?" says I.
"But if I could do better! " says she.
"How better?" says I and my shister both at once.
1 The room-the principal room in the house.
s                   65




I


t'" A 0 rPT T.' T) A /-T7T-)o 7-%XT-r


t.JL-  H I L -l  K  /i'-KtlIN I
"How better? " says she. "Why, what signifies it to be
my Lady Rackrent and no castle? Sure what good is the
car, and no horse to draw it?"
"And where will ye get the horse, Judy?" says I.
"Never mind that," says she; "maybe it is your own
son Jason might find that."
" Jason! '' says I; "don't be trusting to him, Judy. Si
Condy, as I have good reason to know, spoke well of you
when Jason spoke very indifferently of you, Judy."
"No matter," says Judy; "it's often men speak th
contrary just to what they think of us."
"And you the same way of them, no doubt," answered
I. "Nay, don't be denying it, Judy, for I think the better
of ye for it, and shouldn't be proud to call ye the daughter
of a shister's son of mine, if I was to hear ye talk ungrateful, and anyway disrespectful of his honour."
"What disrespect," says she, "to say I'd rather, if it
was my luck, be the wife of another man? "
"You'll have no luck, mind my words, Judy," says I;
and all I remembered about my poor master's goodness in
tossing up for her afore he married at all came across me,
and I had a choking in my throat that hindered me to say
more.
"Better luck, anyhow, Thady," says she, "than to be
like some folk, following the fortunes of them that have
none left."
"Oh! King of Glory!" says I, "hear the pride and ungratitude of her, and he giving his last guineas but a
minute ago to her childer, and she with the fine shawl on
her he made her a present of but yesterday! "
"Oh, troth, Judy, you're wrong now," says my shister,
looking at the shawl.
"And was not he wrong yesterday, then," says she, "to
be telling me I was greatly altered, to affront me? "
" But, Judy," says I, "what is it brings you here then at
all in the mind you are in; is it to make Jason think the
better of you?"
"I'll tell you no more of my secrets, Thady," says she,
"nor would have told you this much, had I taken you for
66






CASTLE RACKRENT


such an unnatural fader as I find you are, not to wish your
own son prefarred to another."
"Oh, troth, you are wrong now, Thady," says my
shister.
Well, I was never so put to it in my life: between these
womens, and my son and my master, and all I felt and
thought just now, I could not, upon my conscience, tell
which was the wrong from the right. So I said not a word
more, but was only glad his honour had not the luck to
hear all Judy had been saying of him, for I reckoned it
would have gone nigh to break his heart; not that I was
of opinion he cared for her as much as she and my shister
fancied, but the ungratitude of the whole from Judy might
not plase him; and he could never stand the notion of
not being well spoken of or beloved like behind his back.
Fortunately for all parties concerned, he was so much
elevated at this time, there was no danger of his understanding anything, even if it had reached his ears. There
was a great horn at the Lodge, ever since my master and
Captain Moneygawl was in together, that used to belong
originally to the celebrated Sir Patrick, his ancestor; and
his honour was fond often of telling the story that he
learned from me when a child, how Sir Patrick drank the
full of this horn without stopping, and this was what no
other man afore or since could without drawing breath.
Now Sir Condy challenged the gauger, who seemed to
think little of the horn, to swallow the contents, and had
it filled to the brim with punch; and the gauger said it was
what he could not do for nothing, but he'd hold Sir Condy
a hundred guineas he'd do it.
"Done," says my master; "I'll lay you a hundred
golden guineas to a tester1 you don't."
"Done," says the gauger; and done and done's enough
between two gentlemen. The gauger was cast, and my
master won the bet, and thought he'd won a hundred
1 Tester: sixpence; from the French word tete, a head-a piece of silver
stamped with a head, which in old French was called un testion, and which
was about the value of an old English sixpence. "Tester" is used in
Shakspeare,
67




CASTLE RACKRENT


guineas, but by the wording it was adjudged to be only a
tester that was his due by the exciseman. It was all one
to him; he was as well pleased, and I was glad to see him
in such spirits again.
The gauger-bad luck to him!-was the man that next
proposed to my master to try himself, could he take at a
draught the contents of the great horn.
"Sir Patrick's horn!" said his honour; "hand it to me:
I'll hold you your own bet over again I'll swallow it."
"Done," says the gauger; "I'll lay ye anything at all
you do no such thing."
"A hundred guineas to sixpence I do," says he; "bring
me the handkerchief." I was loth, knowing he meant the
handkerchief with the gold in it, to bring it out in such
company, and his honour not very able to reckon it.
"Bring me the handkerchief, then, Thady," says he, and
stamps with his foot; so with that I pulls it out of my
greatcoat pocket, where I had put it for safety. Oh, how
it grieved me to see the guineas counting upon the table,
and they the last my master had! Says Sir Condy to me,
"Your hand is steadier than mine to-night, old Thady, and
that's a wonder; fill you the horn for me." And so, wishing his honour success, I did; but I filled it, little thinking
of what would befall him. He swallows it down, and drops
like one shot. We lifts him up, and he was speechless, and
quite black in the face. We put him to bed, and in a short
time he wakened, raving with a fever on his brain. He
was shocking either to see or hear.
"Judy! Judy! have you no touch of feeling? Won't
you stay to help us nurse him?" says I to her, and she
putting on her shawl to go out of the house.
"I'm frightened to see him," says she, "and wouldn't
nor couldn't stay in it; and what use? He can't last till
the morning."  With that she ran off. There was none
but my shister and myself left near him of all the many
friends he had.
The fever came and went, and came and went, and lasted
five days, and the sixth he was sensible for a few minutes,
and said to me, knowing me very well, "I'm in a burning
68




CASTLE RACKRENT


pain all xvithinside of me, Thady. " I could not speak,
but my shister asked him would he have this thing or
t'other to do him good? "No," says he, "nothing will do
me good no more, " and he gave a terrible screech with the
torture he was in; then again a minute's ease- 'brought
to this by drink," says he. "Where are all the friends?where's Judy? Gone, hey? Ay, Sir Condy has been a
fool all his days," said he; and there was the last word he
spoke, and died. He had but a very poor funeral after all.
If you want to know any. more, I'm not very well able
to tell you; but my Lady Rackrent did not die, as was
expected of her,. but was only disfigured in the face ever
after by the fall and bruises she got; and she and Jason,
immediately after my poor master's death, set about going
to law about that jointure; the memorandum not being on
stamped paper, some say it is worth nothing, others again
it may do; others say Jason won't have the lands at any
rate; many wishes it so. For my part, I'm tired wishing
for anything in this world, after all I've seen in it; but I'll
say nothing-it would be a folly to be getting myself ill-will
in my old age. Jason did not marry, nor think of marrying Judy, as I prophesied, and I am not sorry for it: who
is? As for all I have here set down from memory and hearsay of the family, there's nothing but truth in it from beginning to end. That you may depend upon, for where's
the use of telling lies about the things which everybody
knows as well as I do?
The Editor could have readily made the catastrophe of
Sir Condy's history more dramatic and more pathetic, if
he thought it allowable to varnish the plain round tale of
faithful Thady. He lays it before the English reader as a
specimen of manners and characters which are perhaps unknown in England.   Indeed, the domestic habits of no
nation in Europe were less known to the English than
those of their sister country, till within these few years.
Mr. Young's picture of Ireland, in his tour through that
country, was the first faithful portrait of its inhabitants.
All the features in the foregoing sketch were taken from
69




GLOSSARY


the life, and they are characteristic of that mixture of
quickness, simplicity, cunning, carelessness, dissipation,
disinterestedness, shrewdness, and blunder, which, in different forms and with various success, has been brought
upon the stage or delineated in novels.
It is a problem of difficult solution to determine whether
a union will hasten or retard the amelioration of this country. The few gentlemen of education who now reside in
this country will resort to England. They are few, but
they are in nothing inferior to men of the same rank in
Great Britain. The best that can happen will be the introduction of British manufacturers in their places.
Did the Warwickshire militia, who were chiefly artisans,
teach the Irish to drink beer? or did they learn from the
Irish to drink whisky?
GLOSSARY.
Some friends, who have seen Thady's history since it has been
printed, have suggested to the Editor, that many of the terms
and idiomatic phrases, with which it abounds, could not be intelligible to the Enilish reader without further explanation.
The Editor has therefore furnished the following Glossary.
Page i. Monday morning.-Thady begins his memoirs of the
Rackrent Family by dating Monday morning, because no great
undertaking can be auspiciously commenced in Ireland on any
morning but Monday morning. " Oh, please God we live till
Monday morning, we'll set the slater to mend the roof of the
house. On Monday morning we'll fall to, and cut the turf.
On Monday morning we'll see and begin mowing. On Monday
morning, please your honour, we'll begin and dig the potatoes,"
etc.
All the intermediate days, between the making of such
speeches and the ensuing Monday, are wasted: and when Monday morning comes, it is ten to one that the business is deferred
to the next Monday morning. The Editor knew a gentleman,
who, to counteract this prejudice, made his workmen and
labourers begin all new pieces of work upon a Saturday.
70




CASTLE RACKRENT


Page 3. Let alone te t three kingdoms itself.-Let alone, in this
sentence, means put out of consideration. The phrase, let alone,
which is now used as the imperative of a verb, may in time become a conjunction, and may exercise the ingenuity of some
future etymologist. The celebrated Horne Tooke has proved
most satisfactorily, that the conjunction but comes from the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb (beoutan) to be out; also, that
if comes from gif, the imperative of the Anglo-Saxon verb
which signifies to give, etc.
Page 4. Whillaluh.-Ullaloo, Gol, or lamentation over the
deadMagnoque ululante tumultu.-VIRGIL.
Ululatibus omne
Implevere nemus.-OvID.
A full account of the Irish Gol, or Ullaloo, and of the Caoinan or Irish funeral song, with its first semichorus, second
semichorus, full chorus of sighs and groans, together with the
Irish words and music, may be found in the fourth volume of
the Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy. For the advantage of lazy readers, who would rather read a page than walk a
yard, and from compassion, not to say sympathy, with their
infirmity, the Editor transcribes the following passages:
" The Irish have been always remarkable for their funeral
lamentations; and this peculiarity has been noticed by almost
every traveller who visited them; and it seems derived from
their Celtic ancestors, the primaeval inhabitants of this
isle..
" It has been affirmed of the Irish, that to cry was more natural to them than to any other nation, and at length the Irish
cry became proverbial.
" Cambrensis in the twelfth century says, the Irish then
musically expressed their griefs; that is, they applied the
musical art, in which they excelled all others, to the orderly
celebration of funeral obsequies, by dividing the mourners
into two bodies, each alternately singing their part, and the
whole at times joining in full chorus.... The body of
the deceased, dressed in grave clothes, and ornamented with
flowers, was placed on a bier, or some elevated spot. The
relations and keeners (singing mourners) ranged themselves
71




GLOSSARY


in two divisions, one at the head, and the other at the feet
of the corpse. The bards and croteries had before prepared
the funeral Caoinan. The chief bard of the head chorus
began by singing the first stanza, in a low, doleful tone,
which was softly accompanied by the harp: at the conclusion,
the foot semichorus began the lamentation, or Ullaloo, from the
final note of the preceding stanza, in which they were answered
by the head semichorus; then both united in one general
chorus. The chorus of the first stanza being ended, the chief
bard of the foot semichorus began the second Gol or lamentation, in which he was answered by that of the head; and then,
as before, both united in the general full chorus.  Thus alternately were the song and choruses performed during the night.
The genealogy, rank, possessions, the virtues and vices of the
dead were rehearsed, and a number of interrogations were addressed to the deceased; as, Why did he die? If married,
whether his wife was faithful to him, his sons dutiful, or good
hunters or warriors? If a woman, whether her daughters were
fair or chaste? If a young man, whether he had been crossed
in love; or if the blue-eyed maids of Erin treated him with
scorn? "
We are told, that formerly the feet (the metrical feet) of the
Caoinan were much attended to; but on the decline of the Irish
bards these feet were gradually neglected, and the Caoinan fell
into a sort of slipshod metre amongst women. Each province
had different Caoinans, or at least different imitations of the
original. There was the Munster cry, the Ulster cry, etc. It
became an extempore performance, and every set of keeners
varied the melody according to their own fancy.
It is curious to observe how customs and ceremonies degenerate. The present Irish cry, or howl, cannot boast of such
melody, nor is the funeral procession conducted with much
dignity. The crowd of people who assemble at these funerals
sometimes amounts to a thousand, often to four or five hundred.
They gather as the bearers of the hearse proceed on their way,
and when they pass through any village, or when they come
near any houses, they begin to cry -Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!
Agh! Agh! raising their notes from the first Oh! to the last
Agh/ in a kind of mournful howl. This gives notice to the inhabitants of the village that a funeral is passing, and immediately they flock out to follow it. In the province of Munster it
72




CASTLE RACKRENT


is a common thing for the women to follow a funeral, to join in
the universal cry with all their might and main for some time,
and then to turn and ask-" Arrah! who is it that's dead?-who
is it we're crying for?" Even the poorest people have their
own burying-places-that is, spots of ground in the churchyards
where they say that their ancestors have been buried ever since
the wars of Ireland; and if these burial-places are ten miles from
the place where a man dies, his friends and neighbours take
care to carry his corpse thither. Always one priest, often five
or six priests, attend these funerals; each priest repeats a mass,
for which he is paid, sometimes a shilling, sometimes half a
crown, sometimes half a guinea, or a guinea, according to their
circumstances, or, as they say, according to the ability of the
deceased. After the burial of any very poor man, who has left
a widow or children, the priest makes what is called a collection
for the widow; he goes round to every person present, and each
contributes sixpence or a shilling, or what they please. The
reader will find in the note upon the word Wake, more particulars respecting the conclusion of the Irish funerals.
Certain old women, who cry particularly loud and well, are in
great request, and, as a man said to the Editor, " Every one
would wish and be proud to have such at his funeral, or at that
of his friends." The lower Irish are wonderfully eager to attend the funerals of their friends and relations, and they make
their relationships branch out to a great extent. The proof that
a poor man has been well beloved during his life is his having a
crowded funeral. To attend a neighbour's funeral is a cheap
proof of humanity, but it does not, as some imagine, cost
nothing. The time spent in attending funerals may be safely
valued at half a million to the Irish nation; the Editor thinks
that double that sum would not be too high an estimate. The
habits of profligacy and drunkenness which are acquired at
wakes are here put out of the question. When a labourer, a
carpenter, or a smith, is not at his work, which frequently happens, ask where he is gone, and ten to one the answer is-" Oh,
faith, please your honour, he couldn't do a stroke to-day, for
he's gone to the funeral."
Even beggars, when they grow old, go about begging for their
own funerals; that is, begging for money to buy a coffin, candles, pipes, and tobacco. For the use of the candles, pipes,
and tobacco, see Wake.
73




GLOSSARY


Those who value customs in proportion to their antiquity, and
nations in proportion to their adherence to ancient customs,
will doubtless admire the Irish Ui1laoo, and the Irish nation, for
persevering in~ this usage from time immemorial. The Editor,
however, has observed some alarming symptoms, which seem to
prognosticate the declining taste for the Ullaloo in Ireland. In
a comic theatrical entertainment, represented not long since on
the Dublin stage, a chorus of old women was introduced, who
set up the Irish howl round the relics of a physician, who is
supposed to have fallen under the wooden sword of Harlequin.
After the old women have continued their Ullaloo for a decent
time, with all the necessary accompaniments of wringing their
hands, wiping or rubbing their eyes with the corners of their
gowns or aprons, etc., one of the mourners suddenly suspends
her lamentable cries, and, turning to her neighbour, asks,
"Arrah now, honey, who is it we're crying for? "
Page 5. The tenants weere sent awtay without their whisky.- It
is usual with some landlords to give their inferior tenants a glass
of whisky when they pay their rents. Thady calls it their
whisky; not that the whisky is actually the property of the tenants, but that it becomes their rig~ht after it has been often given
to them. In this general mode of reasoning respecting ri~ghts
the lower Irish are not singular, but they are peculiarly quick
and tenacious in claiming these rights. " Last year your honour
gave me some straw for the roof of my house and I expect your
honour will be after doing the same this year. " In this manner
gifts are frequently turned into tributes. The high and low are
not always dissifnilar in their habits. It is said, that the Sublime Ottoman Porte is very apt to claim gifts as tributes: thus it
is dangerous to send the Grand Seignor a fine horse on his
birthday one year, lest on his next birthday he should expect a
similar present, and should proceed to demonstrate the reas6nD.ableness, of his expectations.
*Page 5. He demeaned himself greatly-means, he lowered or
disgraced himself much.
Page 6. Duty fowls, duty turkeys, and duty geese. -In many
leases in Ireland, tenants were formerly bound to supply an
inordinate quantity of poultry to their landlords. The Editor
74




CASTLE RACKRENT


knew of thirty turkeys being reserved in one lease of a small
farm.
Page 6. English tenants.- An English tenant does not mean
a tenant who is an Englishman, but a tenant who pays his rent
the day that it is due. It is a common prejudice in Ireland,
amongst the poorer classes of people, to believe that all tenants
in England pay their rents on the very day when they become
due. An Irishman, when he goes to take a farm, if he wants to
prove to his landlord that he is a substantial man, offers to become an English tenant. If a tenant disobliges his landlord by
voting against him, or against his opinion, at an election, the
tenant is immediately informed by the agent that he must become an English tenant. This threat does not imply that he is
to change his language or his country, but that he must pay all
the arrear of rent which he owes, and that he must thenceforward pay his rent on that day when it becomes due.
Page 6. Canting-does not mean talking or writing hypocritical nonsense, but selling substantially by auction.
Page 6. Diuty work.--It was formerly common in Ireland to
insert clauses in leases, binding tenants to furnish their landlords
with labourers and horses for several days in the year. Much
petty tyranny and oppression have resulted from this feudal
custom. Whenever a poor man disobliged his landlord the
agent sent to him for his duty work; and Thady does not exaggerate when he says, that the tenants were often called from
their own work to do that of their landlord. Thus the very
means of earning their rent were taken from them: whilst they
were getting home their landlord's harvest, their own was often
ruined, and yet their rents were expected to be paid as punctually as if their time had been at their own disposal. This
appears the height of absurd injustice.
In Esthonia, amongst the poor Sclavonian race of peasant
slaves, they pay tributes to their lords, not under the name of
duty work, duty geese, duty turkeys, etc., but under the name
of righteousnesses. The following ballad is a curious specimen
of Esthonian poetry:This is the cause that the country is ruined,
And the straw of the thatch is eaten away,
75




GLOSSARY


The gentry are come to live in the landChimneys between the village,
And the proprietor upon the white floor
The sheep brings forth a lamb with a white forehead,
This is paid to the lord for a righteousness sheep.
The sow farrows pigs,
They go to the spit of the lord.
The hen lays eggs,
They go into the lord's frying-pan.
The cow drops a male calf,
That goes into the lord's herd as a bull.
The mare foals a horse foal,
That must be for my lord's nag.
The boor's wife has sons,
They must go to look after my lord's poultry.
Page 7. Out of forty-nine suits which he had, he never lost one
but seventeen.-Thady's language in this instance is a specimen of
a mode of rhetoric common in Ireland. An astonishing assertion
is made in the beginning of a sentence, which ceases to be in
the least surprising, when you hear the qualifying explanation
that follows.  Thus a man who is in the last stage of staggering
drunkenness will, if he can articulate, swear to you-" Upon
his conscience now, and may he never stir from the spot alive
if he is telling a lie, upon his conscience he has not tasted a
drop of anything, good or bad, since morning at-all-at-all, but
half a pint of whisky, please your honour."
Page 8. Fairy-mounts - Barrows. It is said that these high
mounts were of great service to the natives of Ireland when Ireland was invaded by the Danes. Watch was always kept on
them, and upon the approach of an enemy a fire was lighted to
give notice to the next watch, and thus the intelligence was
quickly communicated through the country. Some years ago,
the common people believed that these barrows were inhabited
by fairies, or, as they called them, by the goodpeople.  " Oh,
troth, to the best of my belief, and to the best of my judgment
and opinion," said an elderly man to the Editor, " it was only
the old people that had nothing to do, and got together, and
were telling stories about them fairies, but to the best of my
judgment there's nothing in it. Only this I heard myself not
very many years back from a decent kind of a man, a grazier,
that, as he was coming justfair and easy (quietly) from the fair,
with some cattle and sheep, that he had not sold, just at the
76




CASTLE RACKRENT


church of -, at an angle of the road like, he was met by a
good-looking man, who asked him where he was going? And
he answered, Oh, far enough, I must be going all night.' 'No,
that you mustn't nor won'It (says the man), you'll sleep with me
the night, and you'll want for nothing, nor your cattle nor sheep
neither, nor your beast (horse); so come along with me.' With
that the grazier lit (ali~ghted) from his horse, and it was dark
night; but presently he finds himself, he does not know in the
wide world how, in a fine house, and plenty of everything to eat
and drink; nothing at all wanting that he could wish for or
think of. And he does not mind (recollect or know) how at last
he falls asleep; and in the morning he finds himself lying, not
in ever a bed or a house at all, but just in the angle of the road
where first he met the strange man: there he finds himself lying
on his back on the grass, and all his sheep feeding as quiet as
ever all round about him, and his horse the same wa y, and the
bridle of the beast over his wrist. And I asked him what he
thought of it; and from first to last he could think of nothing,
but for certain sure it must have been the fairies that entertained
him so well.  For there was no house to see anywhere nigh
hand, or any building, or barn, or place at all, but only the
church and the mote (barrow).   There's another odd thing
enough that they tell about this same church, that if any person's corpse, that had not a right to be buried in that churchyard, went to be burying there in it, no, not all the men,
women, or childer in all Ireland could get the corpse anyway
into the churchyard; 'but as they would be trying to go into the
churchyard, their feet would seem to be going. backwards instead of forwards; ay, continually backwards the whole funeral
would seem to go; and they would never set foot with the corpse
in the churchyard. Now they say that it is the fairies do all
this; but it is my opinion it is all idle talk, and people are after
being wiser now."
The country people in Ireland certainly had great admiration
mixed with reverence, if not dread, of fairies. They believed
that beneath these fairy-mounts were spacious subterraneous
palaces, inhabited by the good people, who must not on any account be disturbed. When the wind raises a little eddy of dust
upon the road, the poor people believe that it is raised by the
fairies, that it is a sign that they are journeying from one of the
fairies' mounts to another, and they say to the fairies, or to
77




GLOSSARY


the dust as it passes, "God speed ye, gentlemen; God speed ye."
This averts any evil that the goodpeople might be inclined to do
them. There are innumerable stories told of the friendly and
unfriendly feats of these busy fairies; some of these tales are
ludicrous, and some romantic enough for poetry. It is a pity
that poets should lose such convenient, though diminutive machinery. By the bye, Parnell, who showed himself so deeply
" skilled in faerie lore," was an Irishman; and though he has
presented his fairies to the world in the ancient English dress
of " Britain's isle, and Arthur's days," it is probable that his
first acquaintance with them began in his native country.
Some remote origin for the most superstitious or romantic
popular illusions or vulgar errors may often be discovered. In
Ireland, the old churches and churchyards have been usually
fixed upon as the scenes of wonders. Now antiquaries tell us,
that near the ancient churches in that kingdom caves of various
constructions have from time to time been discovered, which
were formerly used as granaries or magazines by the ancient inhabitants, and as places to which they retreated in time of
danger. There is (p. 84 of the R. I. A. Transactions for 1789)
a particular account of a number of these artificial caves at the
west end of the church of Killossy, in the county of Kildare.
Under a rising ground, in a dry sandy soil, these subterraneous
dwellings were found: they have pediment roofs, and they communicate with each other by small apertures. In the Brehon
laws these are mentioned, and there are fines inflicted by those
laws upon persons who steal from the subterraneous granaries.
All these things show that there was a real foundation for the
stories which were told of the appearance of lights, and of the
sounds of voices, near these places. The persons who had
property concealed there, very willingly countenanced every
wonderful relation that tended to make these places objects of
sacred awe or superstitious terror.
Page 8. Weed ashes.- By ancient usage in Ireland, all the
weeds on a farm belonged to the farmer's wife, or to the wife of
the squire who holds the ground in his own hands. The great
demand for alkaline salts in bleaching rendered these ashes no
inconsiderable perquisite.
Page 8. Sealing money.-Formerly it was the custom in Ireland
for tenants to give the squire's lady from two to fifty guineas as




CASTLE RACKRENT


a perquisite upon the sealing of their leases. The Editor not
very long since knew of a baronet's lady accepting fifty guineas
as sealing money, upon closing a bargain for a considerable
farm.
Page 9. Sir Afurtagh grew mad-Sir Murtagh grew angry.
Page 9. The whole kitchen was out on the stairs-means that all
the inhabitants of the kitchen came out of the kitchen, and
stood upon the stairs. These, and similar expressions, show
how much the Irish are disposed to metaphor and amplification.
Page ii. Fining down the year's rent.-When an Irish gentleman, like Sir Kit Rackrent, has lived beyond his income, and
finds himself distressed for ready money, tenants obligingly offer
to take his land at a rent far below the value, and to pay him a
small sum of money in hand, which they call fining down the
yearly rent. The temptation of this ready cash often blinds the
landlord to his future interest.
Page i i. Driver.- A man who is employed to drive tenants
for rent; that is, to drive the cattle belonging to tenants to
pound. The office of driver is by no means a sinecure.
Page 12. I thought to make him a priest.- It was customary
amongst those of Thady's rank in Ireland, whenever they could
get a little money, to send their sons abroad to St. Omer's, or
to Spain, to be educated as priests. Now they are educated at
Maynooth. The Editor has lately known a young lad, who began by being a post-boy, afterwards turn into a carpenter, then
quit his plane and work-bench to study his Humanities, as he
said, at the college of Maynooth; but after he had gone through
his course of Humanities, he determined to be a soldier instead
of a priest.
Page 14. Flam.-Short for flambeau.
Page 15. Barrack-room.- Formerly it was customary, in
gentlemen's houses in Ireland, to fit up one large bedchamber
with a number of beds for the reception of occasional visitors.
These rooms were called Barrack-rooms.
Page i6. An innocent-in Ireland, means a simpleton, an idiot.
Page 21. The Curragh-is the Newmarket of Ireland.
79




GLOSSARY


Page 2 2. The cant. -The auction.
Page 26. And so should cut him off for ever by levying a fine,
and suffering a recovery to dock the entail.-The English reader
may perhaps be surprised at the extent of Thady's legal knowledge, and at the fluency with which he pours forth law-terms;
but almost every poor man in Ireland, be he farmer, weaver,
shopkeeper, or steward, is, besides his other occupations, occasionally a lawyer. The nature of processes, ejectments, custodiams, injunctions, replevins, etc., is perfectly known to them,
and the terms as familiar to them as to any attorney. They all
love law. It ig a kind of lottery, in which every man, staking
his own wit or cunning against his neighbour's property, feels
that he has little to lose, and much to gain.
" I'll have the law of you, so I will! " is the saying of an
Englishman who expects justice.  " I'll have you before his
honour," is the threat of an Irishman who hopes for partiality.
Miserable is the life of a justice of the peace in Ireland the day
aft~er a fair, especially if he resides near a small town. The
multitude of the kilt (kilt does not mean killed, but hurt) and
wounded who come before his honour with black eyes or bloody
heads is astonishing: but more astonishing is the number of
those who, though they are scarcely able by daily labour to procure daily food, will nevertheless, without the least reluctance,
waste six or seven hours of the day lounging in the yard or court
of a justice' of the peace, waiting to make some complaint about
-nothing. -It is impossible to convince them that time is money.
They do not set any value upon their own time, and they think
that others estimate theirs at less than nothing. Hence they
make no scruple of telling a justice of the peace a story of an
hour long about a tester (sixpence); and if he grows impatient,
they attribute it to some secret prejudice which he entertains
against them.
Their method is to get a story completely by heart, and to tell
it, as they call it, out of the face, that is, from the beginning to
the end, without interruption.
"Well, my good friend, I have seen you lounging about these
three hours in the yard; what is your business?'
"G'Please your honour, it is what I want to speak one word to
your honour. "
"Speak then, but be quick. What is the matter?"
80




CASTLE RACKRENT


"The matter, please your honour, is nothing at-all-at-all,
only just about the grazing of a horse, please your honour, that
this man here sold me at the fair of Gurtishannon last Shrove
fair, which lay down three times with myself, please your
honour, and kilt me; not to be telling your honour of how, no
later back than yesterday night, he lay down in the house there
within, and all the childer standing round, and it was God's
mercy he did not fall a-top of them, or into the fire to burn
himself. So please your honour, to-day I took him back to this
man, which owned him, and after a great deal to do, I got the
mare again I swopped (exchanged) him for; but he won't pay the
grazing of the horse for the time I had him, though he promised
to pay the grazing in case the horse didn't answer; and he
never did a day's work, good or bad, please your honour, all
the time he was with me, and I had the doctor to him five times
anyhow. And so, please your honour, it is what I expect your
honour will stand my friend, for I'd sooner come to your honour
for justice than to any other in all Ireland. And so I brought
him here before your honour, and expect your honour will make
him pay me the grazing, or tell me, can I process him for it
at the next assizes, please your honour? "
The defendant now turning a quid of tobacco with his tongue
into some secret cavern in his mouth, begins his defence with"Please your honour, under favour, and saving your honour's
presence, there's not a word of truth in all this man has been
saying from beginning to end, upon my conscience, and I
wouldn't for the value of the horse itself, grazing and all, be
after telling your honour a lie. For, please your honour, I
have a dependence upon your honour that you'll do me justice,
and not be listening to him or the like of him. Please your
honour, it's what he has brought me before your honour, because he had a spite against me about some oats I sold your
honour, which he was jealous of, and a shawl his wife got at my
shister's shop there without, and never paid for; so I offered to
set the shawl against the grazing, and give him a receipt in full
of all demands, but he wouldn't out of spite, please your
honour; so he brought me before your honour, expecting your
honour was mad with me for cutting down the tree in the horse
park, which was none of my doing, please your honour-ill-luck
to them that went and belied me to your honour behind my
back! So if your honour is pleasing, I'll tell you the whole
6                    81




GLOSSARY


truth about the horse that he swopped against my mare out of
the face. Last Shrove fair I met this man, Jemmy Duffy, please
your honour, just at the corner of the road, where the bridge is
broken down, that your honour is to have the presentment for
this year-long life to you for it! And he was at that time coming from the fair of Gurtishannon, and I the same way. 'How
are you, Jemmy?' says I. 'Very well, I thank ye kindly,
Bryan,' says he; 'shall we turn back to Paddy Salmon's and
take a naggin of whisky to our better acquaintance?' 'I don't
care if I did, Jemmy,' says I; 'only it is what I can't take the
whisky, because I'm under an oath against it for a month.'
Ever since, please your honour, the day your honour met me
on the road, and observed to me I could hardly stand, I had
taken so much; though upon my conscience your honour
wronged me greatly that same time-ill-luck to them that belied
me behind my back to your honour! Well, please your honour,
as I was telling you, as he was taking the whisky, and we talking of one thing or t'other, he makes me an offer to swop his
mare that he couldn't sell at the fair of Gurtishannon, because
nobody would be troubled with the beast, please your honour,
against my horse, and to oblige him I took the mare-sorrow
take her! and him along with her! She kicked me a new car,
that was worth three pounds ten, to tatters the first time I ever
put her into it, and I expect your honour will make him pay me
the price of the car, anyhow, before I pay the grazing, which
I've no right to pay at-all-at-all, only to oblige him. But I
leave it all to your honour; and the whole grazing he ought to
be charging for the beast is but two and eightpence halfpenny,
anyhow, please your honour. So I'll abide by what your
honour says, good or bad. I'll leave it all to your honour."
I'll leave it all to your honour-literally means, I'll leave all
the trouble to your honour.
The Editor knew a justice of the peace in Ireland who had
such a dread of having it all left to his honour, that he frequently
gave the complainants the sum about which they were disputing,
to make peace between them, and to get rid of the trouble of
hearing their stories out of the face. But he was soon cured of
this method of buying off disputes, by the increasing multitude
of those who, out of pure regard to his honour, came " to get
justice from him, because they would sooner come before him
than before any man in all Ireland."
82




CASTLE RACKRENT


Page 36. A rakingpot of tea.-We should observe, this custom has long since been banished from the higher orders of Irish
gentry. The mysteries of a raking pot of tea, like those of the
Bona Dea, are supposed to be sacred to females; but now and
then it has happened that some of the male species, who were
either more audacious, or more highly favoured than the rest of
their sex, have been admitted by stealth to these orgies. The
time when the festive ceremony begins varies according to circumstances, but it is never earlier than twelve o'clock at night;
the joys of a raking pot of tea depending on its being made in
secret, and at an unseasonable hour. After a ball, when the
more discreet part of the company has departed to rest, a few
chosen female spirits, who have footed it till they can foot it no
longer, and till the sleepy notes expire under the slurring hand
of the musician, retire to a bedchamber, call the favourite maid,
who alone is admitted, bid herput down the kettle, lock the door,
and amidst as much giggling and scrambling as possible, they get
round a tea-table, on which all manner of things are huddled
together. Then begin mutual railleries and mutual confidences
amongst the young ladies, and the faint scream and the loud
laugh is heard, and the romping for letters and pocket-books
begins, and gentlemen are called by their surnames, or by the
general name of fellows! pleasant fellows! charming fellows!
odious fellows! abominable fellows! and then all prudish decorums are forgotten, and then we might be convinced how
much the satirical poet was mistaken when he saidThere is no woman where there's no reserve.
The merit of the original idea of a raking pot of tea evidently
belongs to the washerwoman and the laundry-maid. But why
should not we have Low life above stairs as well as Hzigh life
below stairs?
Page 38. We gained the day by this piece of honesty.-In a dispute which occurred some years ago in Ireland, between Mr. E.
and Mr. M., about the boundaries of a farm, an old tenant of
Mr. M.'s cut a sod from Mr. M.'s land, and inserted it in a spot
prepared for its reception in Mr. E.'s land; so nicely was it inserted, that no eye could detect the junction of the grass. The
old man, who was to give his evidence as to the property, stood
83




GLOSSARY


upon the inserted sod when the viewers came, and swore that
the ground he then stood upon belonged to his landlord, Mr. M.
The Editor had flattered himself that the ingenious contrivance which Thady records, and the similar subterfuge of this
old Irishman, in the dispute concerning boundaries, were instances of 'cuteness unparalleled in all but Irish story: an English friend, however, has just mortified the Editor's national
vanity by an account of the following custom, which prevails in
part of Shropshire. It is discreditable for women to appear
abroad after the birth of their children till they have been
churched. To avoid this reproach, and at the same time to enjoy the pleasure of gadding, whenever a woman goes abroad before she has been to church, she takes a tile from the roof of her
house, and puts it upon her head: wearing this panoply all the
time she pays her visits, her conscience is perfectly at ease; for
she can afterwards safely declare to the clergyman, that she
" has never been from under her own roof till she came to be
churched."
Page 40. Carton, and half-carton.-Thady means cartron, and
half-cartron. " According to the old record in the black book
of Dublin, a cantred is said to contain 30 villatas terras, which
are also called quarters of land (quarterons, cartrons); every
one of which quarters must contain so much ground as will pasture 400 cows, and 17 plough-lands. A knight's fee was composed of 8 hydes, which amount to I6o acres, and that is
generally deemed about a plough-land."
The Editor was favoured by a learned friend with the above
extract, from a MS. of Lord Totness's in the Lambeth library.
Page 57. Wake.-A wake in England means a festival held
upon the anniversary of the saint of the parish. At these
wakes, rustic games, rustic conviviality, and rustic courtship,
are pursued with all the ardour and all the appetite which accompany such pleasures as occur but seldom.  In Ireland a
wake is a midnight meeting, held professedly for the indulgence
of holy sorrow, but usually it is converted into orgies of unholy
joy. When an Irish man or woman of the lower order dies, the
straw which composed the bed, whether it has been contained
in a bag to form a mattress, or simply spread upon the earthen
floor, is immediately taken out of the house, and burned before
the cabin door, the family at the same time setting up the death
84




CASTLE RACKRENT


howl. The ears and eyes of the neighbours being thus alarmed,
they flock to the house of the deceased, and by their vociferous
sympathy excite and at the same time soothe the sorrows of the
family.
It is curious to observe how good and bad are mingled in
human institutions. In countries which were thinly inhabited,
this custom prevented private attempts against the lives of individuals, and formed a kind of coroner's inquest upon the body
which had recently expired, and burning the straw upon which
the sick man lay became a simple preservative against infection.
At night the dead body is waked, that is to say, all the friends and
neighbours of the deceased collect in a barn or stable, where the
corpse is laid upon some boards, or an unhinged door, supported upon stools, the face exposed, the rest of the body covered with a white sheet. Round the body are stuck in brass
candlesticks, which have been borrowed perhaps at five miles'
distance, as many candles as the poor person can beg or borrow, observing always to have an odd number. Pipes and tobacco are first distributed, and then, according to the ability of
the deceased, cakes and ale, and sometimes whisky, are dealt to
the companyDeal on, deal on, my merry men all,
Deal on your cakes and your wine,
For whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day
Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine.
After a fit of universal sorrow, and the comfort of a universal
dram, the scandal of the neighbourhood, as in higher circles,
occupies the company. The young lads and lasses romp with
one ano ther, and when the fathers and mothers are at last overcome with sleep and whisky (vino et somno), the youth become
more enterprising, and are frequently successful.  It is said
that more matches are made at wakes than at weddings.
Page 6o. Kilt.-This word frequently occurs in the preceding pages, where it means not killed, but much hurt. In Ireland, not only cowards, but the brave " die many times before
their death. "-There killing is no murder.


85








Z5be ]Elenotto
Cormtte lbumatne
THE ABSENTEE
BY
MARIA EDGEWORTH












7>


'"See the reward of all your services, indeed! What
an unreasonable, ungrateful man!






Ube Znolizb ComeMe 'Lumatne


THE ABSENTEE
BY
MARIA EDGEWORTH


NEW YORK
Zbe Centuri Co.
1903






Copyright, 1903, by
THE CENTURY CO,
Publshed, October, 1903




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
From drawings by Chris Hammond
"'SEE THE REWARD OF ALL YOUR SERVICES, INDEED!
WHAT AN UNREASONABLE, UNGRATEFUL MAN!'" Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
"'MORDICAI'S!' EXCLAIMED LORD CLONBRONY, WITH A
SUDDEN BLUSH, WHICH HE ENDEAVOURED TO HIDE BY
TAKING SNUFF..............                    24
"FIRST CAME IN, HOBBLING, RANK AND GOUT; NEXT,
RANK AND GAMING"...                   206
"As IT FLASHED ACROSS HER MIND, SHE STARTED BACK;
HER FACE GREW CRIMSON, AND, IN THE SAME INSTANT,
PALE AS DEATH.......................         230
"'BUT NOW, MY CHARMING GRACE,' SAID LORD COLAMBRE, KNEELING BESIDE HER"...................276








THE ABSENTEE




qp




THE ABSENTEE
CHAPTER I.
A   RE you to be at Lady Clonbrony's gala next
week?" said Lady Langdale to Mrs. Dareville,
whilst they were waiting for their carriages in the
crush-room of the opera house.
"Oh yes! everybody's to be there, I hear," replied
Mrs. Dareville. "Your ladyship, of course?"
"Why, I don't know-if I possibly can. Lady Clonbrony makes it such a point with me, that I believe I must
look in upon her for a few minutes. They are going to a
prodigious expense on this occasion. Soho tells me the
reception rooms are all to be new furnished, and in the
most magnificent style."
"At what a famous rate those Clonbronies are dashing
on," said Colonel Heathcock. "Up to anything."
"Who are they?-these Clonbronies, that one hears of
so much of late?" said her Grace of Torcaster. "Irish
absentees, I know. But how do they support all this
enormous expense?"
"The son will have a prodigiously fine estate when some
Mr. Quin dies," said Mrs. Dareville.
"Yes, everybody who comes from Ireland will have a
fine estate when somebody dies," said her grace. "But
what have they at present?"
"Twenty thousand a year, they say," replied Mrs.
Dareville.
"Ten thousand, I believe," cried Lady Langdale.
"Make it a rule, you know, to believe only half the world
says.
"Ten thousand, have they?-possibly," said her grace.
"I know nothing about them - have no acquaintance
3




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among the Irish. Torcaster knows something of Lady
Clonbrony; she has fastened herself, by some means, upon
him: but I charge him not to commit me. Positively, I
could not for anybody-and much less for that sort of person-extend the circle of my acquaintance."
"Now that is so cruel of your grace," said Mrs. Dareville, laughing, "when poor Lady Clonbrony works so
hard, and pays so high, to get into certain circles."
"If you knew all she endures, to look, speak, move,
breathe like an Englishwoman, you would pity her," said
Lady Langdale.
"Yes, and you cawnt conceive thepeens she teekes to talk
of the teebles and cheers, and to thank Q, and, with so much
teeste, to speak pure English," said Mrs. Dareville.
"Pure cockney, you mean," said Lady Langdale.
"But why does Lady Clonbrony want to pass for English?" said the duchess.
"Oh! because she is not quite Irish bred and born-only
bred, not born," said Mrs. Dareville. "And she could not
be five minutes in your grace's company before she would
tell you, that she was Henglish, born in Hoxfordshire."
"She must be a vastly amusing personage. I should
like to meet her, if one could see and hear her incog.," said
the duchess. "And Lord Clonbrony, what is he?"
"Nothing, nobody," said Mrs. Dareville; "one never
even hears of him."
"A tribe of daughters, too, I suppose? "
"No, no," said Lady Langdale, "daughters would be
past all endurance."
"There's a cousin, though, a Grace Nugent," said Mrs.
Dareville, "that Lady Clonbrony has with her."
"Best part of her, too," said Colonel Heathcock; "d-d
fine girl!-never saw her look better than at the opera tonight! "
"Fine complexion! as Lady Clonbrony says, when she
means a high colour," said Lady Langdale.
"Grace Nugent is not a lady's beauty," said Mrs. Dareville. "Has she any fortune, colonel?"
"'Pon honour, don't know," said the colonel.
4




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"There's a son, somewhere, is not there?" said Lady
Langdale.
"Don't know, 'pon honour,'" replied the colonel.
"Yes-at Cambridge-not of age yet," said Mrs. Dareville. "Bless me! here is Lady Clonbrony come back. I
thought she was gone half an hour ago! "
"Mamma," whispered one of Lady Langdale's daughters, leaning between her mother and Mrs. Dareville, "who
is that gentleman that passed us just now? "
"Which way? "
"Towards the door. There now, mamma, you can see
him. He is speaking to Lady Clonbrony-to Miss Nugent.
Now Lady Clonbrony is introducing him to Miss Broadhurst."
"I see him now," said Lady Langdale, examining him
through her glass; "a very gentlemanlike-looking young
man, indeed."
"Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner," said her
grace.
"Heathcock!" said Lady Langdale, "who is Miss
Broadhurst talking to? "
"Eh! now really--'pon honour-don't know," replied
Heathcock.
"And yet he certainly looks like somebody one certainly
should know," pursued Lady Langdale, "though I don't
recollect seeing him anywhere before."
"Really now!" was all the satisfaction she could gain
from the insensible, immovable colonel. However, her
ladyship, after sending a whisper along the line, gained
the desired information, that the young gentleman was
Lord Colambre, son, only son, of Lord and Lady Clonbrony-that he was just come from Cambridge-that he
was not yet of age-that he would be of age within a year
-that he would then, after the death of somebody, come
into possession of a fine estate, by the mother's side-"and
therefore, Cat'rine, my dear," said she, turning round to
the daughter, who had first pointed him out, "you understand, we should never talk about other people's affairs."
"No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma,
5




THE ABSENTEE


Lord Colambre did not hear what you and Mrs. Dareville
were saying! "
"How could he, child? He was quite at the other end
of the world."
"I beg your pardon, ma'am, he was at my elbow, close
behind us; but I never thought about him till I heard
somebody say, 'My lord- ' "
"Good heavens! I hope he didn't hear."
"But, for my part, I said nothing," cried Lady Langdale.
"And for my part, I said nothing but what everybody
knows! " cried Mrs. Dareville.
"And for my part, I am guilty only of hearing," said
the duchess. "Do, pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the
goodness to see what my people are about, and what chance
we have of getting away to-night."
"The Duchess of Torcaster's carriage stops the way!"
-a joyful sound to Colonel Heathcock and to her grace,
and not less agreeable, at this instant, to Lady Langdale,
who, the moment she was disembarrassed of the duchess,
pressed through the crowd to Lady Clonbrony, and, addressing her with smiles and complacency, was "charmed
to have a little moment to speak to her-could not sooner
get through the crowd -would certainly do herself the
honour to be at her ladyship's gala on Wednesday."
While Lady Langdale spoke, she never seemed to see or
think of anybody but Lady Clonbrony, though, all the
time, she was intent upon every motion of Lord Colambre,
and, whilst she was obliged to listen with a face of sympathy to a long complaint of Lady Clonbrony's, about Mr.
Soho's want of taste in ottomans, she was vexed to perceive that his lordship showed no desire to be introduced
to her, or to her daughters; but, on the contrary, was
standing talking to Miss Nugent. His mother, at the end
of her speech, looked round for Colambre-called him twice
before he heard-introduced him to Lady Langdale, and
to Lady Cat'rine, and Lady Anne -, and to Mrs. Dareville; to all of whom he bowed with an air of proud coldness, which gave them reason to regret that their remarks
6




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upon his mother and his family had not been made sotto
'1'oce.
"Lady Langdale's carriage stops the way!" Lord Golambre made no offer of his services, notwithstanding a
look from his mother. Incapable of the meanness of
voluntarily listening to a conversation not intended for
him to hear, he had, however, been compelled, by the
pressure of the crowd, to remain a few minutes stationary,
where he could not avoid hearing the remarks of the fashionable friends.  Disdaining dissimulation, he made no
attempt to conceal his displeasure. Perhaps his vexation
was increased by his consciousness that there was some
mixture of truth in their sarcasms. He was sensible that
his mother, in some points-her manners, for instancewas obvious to ridicule and satire. In Lady Clonbrony's
address there was a mixture of constraint, affectation, and
indecision, unusual in a person of her birth, rank, and
knowledge of the world. A natural and unnatural manner
seemed struggling in all her gestures, and in every syllable
that she articulated - a naturally free, familiar, goodnatured, precipitate, Irish manner, had been schooled, and
schooled late in life, into a sober, cold, still, stiff deportment, which she mistook for English. A strong, Hibernian
accent, she had, with infinite difficulty, changed into an
English tone. Mistaking reverse of wrong for right, she
caricatured the English pronunciation; and the extraordinary precision of her London phraseology betrayed her not
to be a Londoner, as the man, who strove to pass for an
Athenian., was detected by his Attic dialect. Not aware
of her real danger, Lady Glonbrony was, on the opposite
side, in continual apprehension, every time she opened her
lips, lest some treacherous a or e, some strong r, some
puzzling aspirate, or non-aspirate, some unguarded note,
interrogative or expostulatory, should betray her to be an
Irishwoman. Mrs. Dareville had, in her mimicry, perhaps a little exaggerated as to the teebles and cheers, but
still the general likeness of the representation of Lady
Clonbrony was strong enough to strike and vex her son.
He had now, for the first time, an opportunity of judging
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of the estimation in which his mother and his family were
held by certain leaders of the ton, of whom, in her letters,
she had spoken so much, and into whose society, or rather
into whose parties, she had been admitted. He saw that
the renegado cowardice, with which she denied, abjured,
and reviled her own country, gained nothing but ridicule
and contempt. He loved his mother; and, whilst he endeavoured to conceal her faults and foibles as much as
possible from his own heart, he could not endure those
who dragged them to light and ridicule. The next morning the first thing that occurred to Lord Colambre's
remembrance when he awoke was the sound of the contemptuous emphasis which had been laid on the words
IRISH ABSENTEES! This led to recollections of his native
country, to comparisons of past and present scenes, to
future plans of life. Young and careless as he seemed,
Lord Colambre was capable of serious reflection.  Of
naturally quick and strong capacity, ardent affections, impetuous temper, the early years of his childhood passed at
his father's castle in Ireland, where, from the lowest servant to the well-dressed dependant of the family, everybody
had conspired to wait upon, to fondle, to flatter, to worship, this darling of their lord. Yet he was not spbilednot rendered selfish. For, in the midst of this flattery and
servility, some strokes of genuine generous affection had
gone home to his little heart; and, though unqualified
submission had increased the natural impetuosity of his
temper, and though visions of his future grandeur had
touched his infant thought, yet, fortunately, before he
acquired any fixed habits of insolence or tyranny, he was
carried far away from all that were bound or willing to
submit to his commands, far away from all signs of hereditary grandeur-plunged into one of our great public schools
-into a new world. Forced to struggle, mind and body,
with his equals, his rivals, the little lord became a spirited
schoolboy, and, in time, a man.  Fortunately for him,
science and literature happened to be the fashion among a
set of clever young men with whom he was at Cambridge.
His ambition for intellectual superiority was raised, his
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views were enlarged, his tastes and his manners formed.
The sobriety of English good sense mixed most advantageously with Irish vivacity; English prudence governed, but
did not extinguish his Irish enthusiasm. But, in fact, 7/English and Irish had not been invidiously contrasted in
his mind: he had been so long resident in England, and so
intimately connected with Englishmen, that he was not
obvious to any of the commonplace ridicule thrown upon
Hibernians; and he had lived with men who were too well
informed and liberal to misjudge or depreciate a sister
country. He had found, from experience, that, however
reserved the English may be in manner, they are warm at
heart; that, however averse they may be from forming new
acquaintance, their esteem and confidence once gained,
they make the most solid friends. He had formed, friendships in England; he was fully sensible of the superior
comforts, refinement, and information, of English society;
but his own country was endeared to him by early association, and a sense of duty and patriotism attached him to
Ireland. And shall I too be an absentee? was a question
which resulted from these reflections-a question which he
was not yet prepared to answer decidedly. In the meantime, the first business of the morning was to execute a
commission for a Cambridge friend.   Mr. Berryl had
bought from Mr. Mordicai, a famous London coachmaker,
a curricle, warranted sound, for which he had paid a sound
price, upon express condition that Mr. Mordicai, barring
accidents, should be answerable for all repairs of the curricle
for six months. In three, both the carriage and body were
found to be good for nothing-the curricle had been returned to Mr. Mordicai-nothing had since been heard of
it, or from him-and Lord Colambre had undertaken to
pay him and it a visit, and to make all proper inquiries.
Accordingly, he went to the coachmaker's, and, obtaining
no satisfaction from the underlings, desired to see the head
of the house. He was answered, that Mr. Mordicai was
not at home. His lordship had never seen Mr. Mordicai;
but, just then, he saw, walking across the yard, a man,
who looked something like a Bond Street coxcomb, but
9




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not the least like a gentleman, who called, in the tone of a
master, for' " Mr. Mordicai's barouche! " It appeared; and
he was stepping into it when Lord Colambre took the
liberty of stopping him; and, pointing to the wreck of Mr.
Berryl's curricle, now standing in the yard, began a statement of his friend's grievances, and an appeal to common
justice and conscience, which he, unknowing the nature of
the man with whom he had to deal, imagined must be.irresistible. Mr. Mordicai stood without moving a muscle of
his dark wooden face. Indeed, in his face there appeared
to be no muscles, or none which could move; so that,
though he had what are generally called handsome features, there was, all together, something unnatural and
shocking in his countenance. When, at last, his eyes
turned, and his lips opened, this seemed to be done by
machinery, and not by the will of a living creature, or from
the impulse of a rational soul. Lord Colambre was so
much struck with this strange physiognomy, that he
actually forgot much he had to say of springs and wheels.
But it was no matter. Whatever he had said, it would
have come to the same thing; and Mordicai would have
answered as he now did
"Sir, it was my partner made that bargain, not myself;
and I don't hold myself bound by it, for he is the sleeping
partner only, and not empowered to act in the way of business. Had Mr. Berryl bargained with me, I should have
told him that he should have looked to these things before
his carriage went out of our yard."
The indignation of Lord Colambre kindled at these
words-but in vain. To all that indignation could by
word or look urge against Mordicai, he replied''"Maybe so, sir; the law is open to your friend-the law
is open to all men who can pay for it."
Lord Colambre turned in despair from the callous coachmaker, and listened to one of his more compassionatelooking workmen, who was reviewing the disabled curricle;
and, whilst he was waiting to know the sum of his friend's
misfortune, a fat, jolly, Falstaff looking personage came
into the yard, accosted Mordicai with a degree of familiar10




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ity, which, from a gentleman, appeared to Lord Colambre
to be almost impossible.
"How are you, Mordicai, my good fellow?" cried he,
speaking with a strong Irish accent.
"Who is this?" whispered Lord Colambre to the foreman, who was examining the curricle.
"Sir Terence O'Fay, sir. There must be entire new
wheels."
"Now tell me, my tight fellow," continued Sir Terence,
holding Mordicai fast, "when, in the name of all the saints,
good or bad, in the calendar, do you reckon to let us sport
the suicide? "
Mordicai forcibly drew his mouth into what he meant
for a smile, and answered, "As soon as possible, Sir Terence.
Sir Terence, in a tone of jocose, wheedling expostulation, entreated him to have the carriage finished out of
kand. "Ah, now! Mordy, my precious! let us have it by
the birthday, and come and dine with us o' Monday, at
the Hibernian Hotel-there's a rare one-will you?"
Mordicai accepted the invitation, and promised faithfully
that the suicide should be finished by the birthday. Sir
Terence shook hands upon this promise, and, after telling
a good story, which made one of the workmen in the yard
-an Irishman-grin with delight, walked off. Mordicai,
first waiting till the knight was out of hearing, called
aloud"You grinning rascal! mind, at your peril, and don't let
that there carriage be touched, d'ye see, till further orders."
One of Mr. Mordicai's clerks, with a huge long-feathered
pen behind his ear, observed that Mr. Mordicai was right in
that caution, for that, to the best of his comprehension,
Sir Terence O'Fay and his principal, too, were over head
and ears in debt.
Mordicai coolly answered that he was well aware of that;
but that the estate could afford to dip further; that, for
his part, he was under no apprehension; he knew how to
look sharp, and to bite before he was bit. That he knew
Sir Terence and his principal were leagued together to give
II




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the creditors the go by, but that, clever as they both were
at that work, he trusted he was their match.
"Will you be so good, sir, to finish making out this estimate for me? " interrupted Lord Colambre.
"Immediately, sir.  Sixty-nine pound four, and the
perch. Let us see--  Mr. Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy,
about Sir Terence," said the foreman, pointing back over
his shoulder to the Irish workman, who was at this moment
pretending to be wondrous hard at work. However, when
Mr. Mordicai defied him to tell him anything he did not
know, Paddy, parting with an untasted bit of tobacco,
began, and recounted some of Sir Terence O'Fay's exploits
in evading duns, replevying cattle, fighting sheriffs, bribing
subs, managing cants, tricking custodees, in language so
strange, and with a countenance and gestures so full of enjoyment of the jest, that, whilst Mordicai stood for a moment aghast with astonishment, Lord Colambre could not
help laughing, partly at, and partly with, his countryman.
All the yard were in a roar of laughter, though they did
not understand half of what they heard; but their risible
muscles were acted upon mechanically, or maliciously,
merely by the sound of the Irish brogue.
Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed
that "the law is executed in another guess sort of way in
England from what it is in Ireland"; therefore, for his part,
he desired nothing better than to set his wits fairly against
such sharks. That there was a pleasure in doing up a
debtor which none but a creditor could know.
"In a moment, sir; if you'll have a moment's patience,
sir, if you please," said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre; "I must go down the pounds once more, and then I'll
let you have it."
"I'll tell you what, Smithfield," continued Mr. Mordicai,
coming close beside his foreman, and speaking very low,
but with a voice trembling with anger, for he was piqued
by his foreman's doubts of his capacity to cope with Sir
Terence O'Fay; "I'll tell you what, Smithfield, I'll be
cursed, if I don't get every inch of them into my power.
You know how?"
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"You are the best judge, sir," replied the foreman; "but
1 would not undertake Sir Terence; and the question is,
whether the estate will answer the lot of the debts, and
whether you know them all for certain? "
"I do, sir, I tell you. There's Green-there's Blancham
-there's Gray-there's Soho-naming several more-and,
to my knowledge, Lord Clonbrony-   "
"Stop, sir," cried Lord Colambre in a voice which made
Mordicai, and everybody present, start-"I am his son- "
"The devil! " said Mordicai.
"God bless every bone in his body, then!-he's an Irishman," cried Paddy; "and there was the rason my heart
warmed to him from the first minute he come into the
yard, though I did not know it till now."
"What, sir! are you my Lord Colambre?" said Mr.
Mordicai, recovering, but not clearly recovering, his intellects. "I beg pardon, but I did not know you was Lord
Colambre. I thought you told me you was the friend of
Mr. Berryl."
"I do not see the incompatibility of the assertion, sir,"
replied Lord Colambre, taking from the bewildered foreman's unresisting hand the account, which he had been so
long furnishing.
"Give me leave, my lord," said Mordicai. "I beg your
pardon, my lord, perhaps we can compromise that business
for your friend Mr. Berryl; since he is your lordship's
friend, perhaps we can contrive to compromise and split the
difference."
To compromise and split the difference, Mordicai thought
were favourite phrases, and approved Hibernian modes of
doing business, which would conciliate this young Irish
nobleman, and dissipate the proud tempest which had
gathered and now swelled in his breast.
"No, sir, no! " cried Lord Colambre, holding firm the
paper. "I want no favour from you. I will accept of
none for my friend or for myself."
"Favour! No, my lord, I should not presume to
offer-    But I should wish, if you'll allow me, to do
your friend justice."
13




THE ABSENTEE


Lord Colambre recollecting that he had no right, in his
pride, to fling away his friend's money, let Mr. Mordicai
look at the account; and, his impetuous temper in a few
moments recovered by good sense, he considered that, as
his person was utterly unknown to Mr. Mordicai, no offence
could have been intended to him, and that, perhaps, in
what had been said of his father's debts and distress, there
might be more truth than he was aware of. Prudently,
therefore, controlling his feelings, and commanding himself,
he suffered Mr. Mordicai to show him into a parlour, to
_ettk his friend's business. In a few minutes the account
was reduced to a reasonable form, and, in consideration of
the partner's having made the bargain, by which Mr. Mordicai felt himself influenced in honour, though not bound
in law, he undertook to have the curricle made better than
new again, for Mr. Berryl, for twenty guineas. Then came
awkward apologies to Lord Colambre, which he ill endured.
"Between ourselves, my lord," continued Mordicai--
But the familiarity of the phrase, "Between ourselves"this implication of equality - Lord Colambre could not
admit; he moved hastily towards the door and departed.
CHAPTER II.
FULL of what he had heard, and impatient to obtain
further information respecting the state of his father's
affairs, Lord Colambre hastened home; but his father
was out, and his mother was engaged with Mr. Soho, directing, or rather being directed, how her apartments should
be fitted up for her gala. As Lord Colambre entered the
room, he saw his mother, Miss Nugent, and Mr. Soho,
standing at a large table, which was covered with rolls of
paper, patterns, and drawings of furniture: Mr. Soho was
speaking in a conceited dictatorial tone, asserting that
there was no "colour in nature for that room equal to the
belly-o'-the fawn"; which belly-o'-the fawn he so pronounced that Lady Clonbrony understood it to be la belle
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uniforme, and, under this mistake, repeated and assented
to the assertion till it was set to rights, with condescending
superiority, by the upholsterer.  This first architectural
upholsterer of the age, as he styled himself, and was universally admitted to be by all the world of fashion, then, with
full powers given to him, spoke en maitre. The whole face
of things must be changed - there must be new hangings,
new draperies, new cornices, new candelabras, new everything!
The upholsterer's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Glances from ceiling to floor, from floor to ceiling;
And, as imagination bodies forth
The form of things unknown, th' upholsterer's pencil
Turns to shape and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a NAME.
Of the value of a NAME no one could be more sensible
than Mr. Soho.
"Your la'ship sees-this is merely a scratch of my pencil
-your la'ship's sensible-just to give you an idea of the
shape, the form of the thing. You fill up your angles here
with encoinieres-round your walls with the Turkish tent
drapery-a fancy of my own-in apricot cloth, or crimson
velvet, suppose, or en flute, in crimson satin draperies,
fanned and riched with gold fringes, en suite-intermediate
spaces, Apollo's heads with gold rays-and here, ma'am,
you place four chancelieres, with chimeras at the corners,
covered with blue silk and silver fringe, elegantly fanciful
-with my STATIRA CANOPY here-light blue silk draperies
-aerial tint, with silver balls--and for seats here, the
SERAGLIO OTTOMANS, superfine scarlet-your paws-griffin
-golden-and golden tripods, here, with antique cranesand oriental alabaster tables here and there-quite appropriate, your la'ship feels.
"And-let me reflect. For the next apartment, it strikes
me-as your la'ship don't value expense-the Alhambra
hangings-my own thought entirely. Now, before I unroll
them, Lady Clonbrony, I must beg you'll not mention
I've shown them. I give you my sacred honour, not a
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soul has set eye upon the Alhambra hangings, except Mrs.
Dareville, who stole a peep; I refused, absolutely refused,
the Duchess of Torcaster-but I can't refuse your la'ship.
So see, ma'am-(unrolling them)-scagliola porphyry columns supporting the grand dome-entablature, silvered
and decorated with imitative bronze ornaments; under the
entablature, a valance in pelmets, of puffed scarlet silk,
would have an unparalleled grand effect, seen through the
arches - with the TREBISOND TRELLICE PAPER, would
make a tout ensemble, novel beyond example. On that
Trebisond trellice paper, I confess, ladies, I do pique
myself.
"Then, for the little room, I recommend turning it
temporarily into a Chinese pagoda, with this Chinese pagoda
paper, with the porcelain border, and josses, and jars, and
beakers to match; and I can venture to promise one vase
of pre-eminent size and beauty. Oh, indubitably! if your
la'ship prefers it, you can have the Egyptian hieroglyphic
paper, with the ibis border to match! The only objection
is, one sees it everywhere-quite antediluvian-gone to the
hotels even; but, to be sure, if your la'ship has a fancy--
At all events, I humbly recommend, what her Grace of
Torcaster longs to patronise, my MOON CURTAINS, with
candlelight draperies. A demisaison elegance this-I hit
off yesterday-and-true, your la'ship's quite correct-out
of the common, completely. And, of course, you'd have
the sphynx candelabras, and the Phcenix argands. Oh!
nothing else lights now, ma'am! Expense! Expense of
the whole! Impossible to calculate here on the spot!-but
nothing at all worth your ladyship's consideration! "
At another moment, Lord Colambre might have been
amused with all this rhodomontade, and with the airs and
voluble conceit of the orator; but, after what he had heard
at Mr. Mordicai's, this whole scene struck him more with
melancholy than with mirth. He was alarmed by the prospect of new and unbounded expense; provoked, almost
past enduring, by the jargon and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and vexed to the heart to see his
mother the dupe, the sport of such a coxcomb.




THE ABSENTEE


"Prince of puppies!-Insufferable!-My own mother "!
Lord Colambre repeated to himself, as he walked hastily
up and down the room.
"Colambre, won't you let us have your judgment-your
teeste? " said his mother.
"Excuse me, ma'am. I have no taste, no judgment, in
these things."
He sometimes paused, and looked at Mr. Soho with a
strong inclination to-- But knowing that he should say
too much, if he said anything, he was silent-never dared
to approach the council table-but continued walking up
and down the room, till he heard a voice, which at once
arrested his attention, and soothed his ire. He approached
the table instantly, and listened, whilst Grace Nugent said
everything he wished to have said, and with all the propriety and delicacy with which he thought he could not
have spoken. He leaned on the table, and fixed his eyes
upon her-years ago, he had seen his cousin-last night,
he had thought her handsome, pleasing, graceful-but
now, he saw a new person, or he saw her in a new light.
He marked the superior intelligence, the animation, the
eloquence of her countenance, its variety, whilst alternately, with arch raillery or grave humour, she played off
Mr. Soho, and made him magnify the ridicule, till it was
apparent even to Lady Clonbrony. He observed the
anxiety, lest his mother should expose her own foibleshe was touched by the respectful, earnest kindness-the  V\
soft tones of persuasion, with which she addressed his
mother-the care not to presume upon her own influence
-the good sense, the taste she showed, yet not displaying
her superiority-the address, temper, and patience, with
which she at last accomplished her purpose, and prevented
Lady Clonbrony from doing anything preposterously absurd, or exorbitantly extravagant.
Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was
ended-when Mr. Soho departed-for Grace Nugent was
then silent; and it was necessary to remove his eyes from
that countenance, on which he had gazed unobserved.
Beautiful and graceful, yet so unconscious was she of her
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charms, that the eye of admiration could rest upon her
without her perceiving it--she seemed so intent upon
others as totally to forget herself. The whole train of
Lord Colambre's thoughts was so completely deranged
that, although he was sensible there was something of importance he had to say to his mother, yet, when Mr. Soho's
departure left him opportunity to speak, he stood silent,
unable to recollect anything but-Grace Nugent.
When Grace Nugent left the room, after some minutes'
silence, and some effort, Lord Colambre said to his mother,
"Pray, madam, do you know anything of Sir Terence
O'Fay?"
"I!" said Lady Clonbrony, drawing up her head proudly;
"I know he is a person I cannot endure. He is no friend
of mine, I can assure you-nor any such sort of person."
"I thought it was impossible!" cried Colambre, with
exultation.
"I only wish your father, Colambre, could say as much,"
added Lady Clonbrony.
Lord Colambre's countenance fell again; and again he
was silent for some time.
"Does my father dine at home, ma'am?"
"I suppose not; he seldom dines at home."
"Perhaps, ma'am, my father may have some cause to be
uneasy about     "
"About?" said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone, and with a
look of curiosity which convinced her son that she knew
nothing of his debts or distresses, if he had any. "About
what? " repeated her ladyship.
Here was no receding, and Lord Colambre never had
recourse to artifice.
"About his affairs, I was going to say, madam. But,
since you know nothing of any difficulties or embarrassments, I am persuaded that none exist."
"Nay, I cawnt tell you that, Colambre. There are difficulties for ready money, I confess, when I ask for it, which
surprise me often. I know nothing of affairs-ladies of a
certain rank seldom do, you know. But, considering your
father's estate, and the fortune I brought him," added her




THE ABSENTEE


ladyship, proudly, "I cawnt conceive it at all.  Grace
Nugent, indeed, often talks to me of embarrassments and
economy; but that, poor thing, is very natural for her,
because her fortune is not particularly large, and she has
left it all, or almost all, in her uncle and guardian's hands.
I know she's often distressed for odd money to lend me,
and that makes her anxious."
"Is not Miss Nugent very much admired, ma'am, in
London?"
"Of course-in the company she is in, you know, she
has every advantage. And she has a natural family air of
fashion-not but what she would have got on much better,
if, when she first appeared in Lon'on, she had taken my
advice, and wrote herself on her cards Miss de Nogent,
which would have taken off the prejudice against the Iricism of Nugent, you know; and there is a Count de
Nogent."
"I did not know there was any such prejudice, ma'am.
There may be among a certain set; but, I should think,
not among well-informed, well-bred people."
"I big your fawdon, Colambre; surely I, that was born
in England, an Henglish-woman bawn! must be well infawmed on this pint, anyway."
Lord Colambre was respectfully silent.
"Mother," resumed he, "I wonder that Miss Nugent is
not married! "
"That is her own fau't, entirely; she has refused very
good offers-establishments that, I own, I think, as Lady
Langdale says, I was to blame to allow her to let pass;
but young ledies, till they are twenty, always think they
can do better. Mr. Martingale, of Martingale, proposed
for her, but she objected to him on account of he's being
on the turf; and Mr. St. Albans' ~7000 a year-becauseI reelly forget what-I believe only because she did not like
him-and something about principles. Now there is Colonel Heathcock, one of the most fashionable young men
you see, always with the Duchess of Torcaster and that
set-Heathcock takes a vast deal of notice of her, for
him; and yet, I'm persuaded, she would not have him
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to-morrow, if he came to the pint, and for no reason, reelly
now, that she can give me, but because she says he's a coxcomb. Grace has a tincture of Irish pride. But, for my
part, I rejoice that she is so difficult, for I don't know what
I should do without her."
"Miss Nugent is indeed-very much attached to you,
mother, I am convinced," said Lord Colambre, beginning
his sentence with great enthusiasm, and ending it with
great sobriety.
" Indeed then, she's a sweet girl, and I am very partial to
her, there's the truth," cried Lady Clonbrony, in an undisguised Irish accent, and with her natural warm manner.
But a moment afterwards her features and whole form resumed their constrained stillness and stiffness, and, in her
English accent, she continued"Before you put my idees out of my head, Colambre, I
had something to say to you-Oh! I know what it waswe were talking of embarrassments-and I wished to do
your father the justice to mention to you that he has been
uncommon liberalto me about this gala, and has reelly given
me carte-blanche; and I've a notion-indeed I know-that
it is you, Colambre, I am to thank for this."
" Me!-ma'am! "
"Yes! Did not your father give you any hint?"
"No, ma'am; I have seen my father but for half an hour
since I came to town, and in that time he said nothing to
me-of his affairs."
"But what I allude to is more your affair."
"He did not speak to me of any affairs, ma'am-he
spoke only of my horses."
"Then I suppose my lord leaves it to me to open the
matter to you. I have the pleasure to tell you, that we
have in view for you-and I think I may say with more
than the approbation of all her family-an alliance-- "
"Oh! my dear mother! you cannot be serious," cried
Lord Colambre; "you know I am not of years of discretion yet-I shall not think of marrying these ten years, at
least."
"Why not? Nay, my dear Colambre, don't go, I beg--
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I am serious, I assure you-and, to convince you of it, I
shall tell you candidly, at once, all your father told me:
that now you've done with Cambridge, and are come to
Lon'on, he agrees with me in wishing that you should
make the figure you ought to make, Colambre, as sole heirapparent to the Clonbrony estate, and all that sort of thing.
But, on the other hand, living in Lon'on, and making you
the handsome allowance you ought to have, are, both together, more than your father can afford, without inconvenience, he tells me."
"I assure you, mother, I shall be content--"
"No, no; you must not be content, child, and you must
hear me. You must live in a becoming style, and make a
proper appearance. I could not present you to my friends
here, hor be happy, if you did not, Colambre. Now the
way is clear before you: you have birth and title, here is
fortune ready made; you will have a noble estate of your
own when old Quin dies, and you will not be any encumbrance or inconvenience to your father or anybody.
Marrying an heiress accomplishes all this at once; and the
young lady is everything we could wish, besides-you will
meet again at the gala. Indeed, between ourselves, she is
the grand object of the gala; all her friends will come en
iasse, and one should wish that they should see things in
proper style. You have seen the young lady in question,
Colambre - Miss Broadhurst. Don't you recollect the
young lady I introduced you to last night after the opera?"
"The little, plain girl, covered with diamonds, who was
standing beside Miss Nugent?"
"In di'monds, yes. But you won't think her plain
when you see more of her-that wears off; I thought her
plain, at first-I hope" "I hope," said Lord Colambre, "that you will not take
it unkindly of me, my dear mother, if I tell you, at once,
that I have no thoughts of marrying at present-and that
I never will marry for money. Marrying an heiress is not
even a new way of paying old debts-at all events, it is
one to which no distress could persuade me to have recourse; and as I must, if I outlive old Mr. Quin, have an
21




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independent fortune, there is no occasion to purchase one
by marriage."
"There is no distress, that I know of, in the case," cried
Lady Clonbrony. "Where is your imagination running,
Colambre? But merely for your establishment, your independence."
"Establishment, I want none-independence I do desire, and will preserve. Assure my father, my dear mother,
that I will not be an expense to him. I will live within the
allowance he made me at Cambridge-I will give up half of
it-I will do anything for his convenience-but marry for
money, that I cannot do."
"Then, Colambre, you are very disobliging," said Lady
Clonbrony, with an expression of disappointment and displeasure; "for your father says, if you don't marry Miss
Broadhurst, we can't live in Lon'on another winter."
This said-which, had she been at the moment mistress
of herself, she would not have let out-Lady Clonbrony
abruptly quitted the room. Her son stood motionless,
saying to himself"Is this my mother?-How altered! "
The next morning he seized an opportunity of speaking
to his father, whom he caught, with difficulty, just when
he was going out, as usual, for the day. Lord Colambre,
with all the respect due to his father, and with that affectionate manner by which he always knew how to soften the
strength of his expressions, made nearly the same declarations of his resolution, by which his mother had been so
much surprised and offended. Lord Clonbrony seemed
more embarrassed, but not so much displeased. When
Lord Colambre adverted, as delicately as he could, to the
selfishness of desiring from him the sacrifice of liberty for
life, to say nothing of his affections, merely to enable his
family to make a splendid figure in London, Lord Clonbrony exclaimed, "That's all nonsense!-cursed nonsense!
That's the way we are obliged to state the thing to your
mother, my dear boy, because I might talk her deaf before
she would understand or listen to anything else. But, for
my own share, I don't care a rush if London was sunk in
22




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the salt sea. Little Dublin for my money, as Sir Terence
O'Fay says."
"Who is Sir Terence O'Fay, may I ask, sir?"
"Why, don't you know Terry? Ay, you've been so
long at Cambridge, I forgot. And did you never see
Terry?'"
"I have seen him, sir-I met him yesterday at Mr. Mordicai's, the coachmaker's."
"Mordicai's!" exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden
blush, which he endeavoured to hide by taking snuff. "He
is a damned rascal, that Mordicai! I hope you didn't believe a word he said-nobody does that knows him."
"I am glad, sir, that you seem to know him so well, and
to be upon your guard against him," replied Lord Colambre; "for, from what I heard of his conversation, when he
was not aware who I was, I am convinced he would do you
any injury in his power."
"He shall never have me in his power, I promise him.
We shall take care of that. But what did he say?"
Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai
had said, and Lord Clonbrony reiterated-" Damned rascal!
-damned rascal! I'll get out of his hands; I'll have no
more to do with him." But, as he spoke, he exhibited
evident symptoms of uneasiness, moving continually, and
shifting from leg to leg like a foundered horse.
He could not bring himself positively to deny that he
had debts and difficulties; but he would by no means open
the state of his affairs to his son-"No father is called upon
to do that," said he to himself; none but a fool would
do it."
Lord Colambre, perceiving his father's embarrassment,
withdrew his eyes, respectfully refrained from all further
inquiries, and simply repeated the assurance he had made
to his mother, that he would put his family to no additional
expense; and that, if it was necessary, he would willingly
give up half his allowance.
"Not at all-not at all, my dear boy," said his father;
"I would rather cramp myself than that you should be
cramped, a thousand times over. But it is all my Lady
23




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Clonbrony's nonsense. If people would but, as they
ought, stay in their own country, live on their own estates,
and kill their own mutton, money need never be wanting.'"
For killing their own mutton, Lord Colambre did not see
the indispensable necessity; but he rejoiced to hear his
father assert that people should reside in their own country.
"Ay," cried Lord Clonbrony, to strengthen his assertion, as he always thought it necessary to do, by quoting
some other person's opinion. "So Sir Terence O'Fay
always says, and that's the reason your mother can't endure poor Terry. You don't know Terry? No, you have
only seen him; but, indeed, to see him is to know him;
for he is the most off-hand, good fellow in Europe."
"I don't pretend to know him yet," said Lord Colambre.
"I am not so presumptuous as to form my opinion at first
sight."
"Oh, curse your modesty! " interrupted Lord Clonbrony;
"you mean, you don't pretend to like him yet; but Terry
will make you like him. I defy you not. I'll introduce
you to him-him to you, I mean-most warm-hearted,
generous dog upon earth-convivial-jovial-with wit and
humour enough, in his own way, to split you-split me if
he has not. You need not cast down your eyes, Colambre.
What's your objection? " #
"I have made none, sir; but, if you urge me, I can only
say that, if he has all these good qualities, it is to be regretted that he does not look and speak a little more like
a gentleman."
"A gentleman! he is as much a gentleman as any of your
formal prigs-not the exact Cambridge cut, maybe. Curse
your English education! 'Twas none of my advice. I
suppose you mean to take after your mother in the notion
that nothing can be good, or genteel, but what's English."
"Far from it, sir; I assure you, I am as warm a friend to
Ireland as your heart could wish. You will have no reason,
in that respect at least, nor, I hope, in any other, to curse
my English education; and, if my gratitude and affection
can avail, you shall never regret the kindness and liberality
with which you have, I fear, distressed yourself to afford
24




C.f


I


fz


U


I      \


""Mordecai's! " exclaimed Lord Clonbrony, with a sudden
blush, which he endeavoured to hide by taking snuff.'








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me the means of becoming all that a British nobleman
ought to be."
"Gad! you distress me now!" said Lord Clonbrony,
"and I didn't expect it, or I wouldn't make a fool of myself this way," added he, ashamed of his emotion, and
whiffling it off. "You have an Irish heart, that I see,
which no education can spoil. But you must like Terry.
I'll give you time, as he said to me, when first he taught
me to like usquebaugh. Good morning to you! "
Whilst Lady Clonbrony, in consequence of her residence
in London, had become more of a fine lady, Lord Clonbrony, since he left Ireland, had become less of a gentleman. Lady Clonbrony, born an Englishwoman, disclaiming
and disencumbering herself of all the Irish in town, had,
by giving splendid entertainments, at an enormous expense,
made her way into a certain set of fashionable company.
But Lord Clonbrony, who was somebody in Ireland, who
was a great person in Dublin, found himself nobody in
England, a mere cipher in London. Looked down upon
by the fine people with whom his lady associated, and
heartily weary of them, he retreated from them altogether,
and sought entertainment and self-complacency in society
beneath him-indeed, both in rank and education, but in
which he had the satisfaction of feeling himself the first
person in company. Of these associates, the first in talents, and in jovial profligacy, was Sir Terence O'Fay-a
man of low extraction, who had been knighted by an Irish
lord-lieutenant in some convivial frolic. No one could tell
a good story, or sing a good song better than Sir Terence;
he exaggerated his native brogue, and his natural propensity to blunder, caring little whether the company laughed
at him or with him, provided they laughed. "Live and
laugh-laugh and live," was his motto; and certainly he
lived on laughing, as well as many better men can contrive
to live on a thousand a year.
Lord Clonbrony brought Sir Terence home with him
next day to introduce him to Lord Colambre; and it happened that on this occasion Terence appeared to peculiar
disadvantage, because, like many other people, "II gatoit
25




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/l'esprit qu'il avoit en voulant avoir celui qu'il n'avoit
pas.
Having been apprised that Lord Colambre was a fine
scholar, fresh from Cambridge, and being conscious of his
own deficiencies of literature, instead of trusting to his
natural talents, he summoned to his aid, with no small
effort, all the scraps of learning he had acquired in early
days, and even brought before the company all the gods
and goddesses with whom he had formed an acquaintance
at school. Though embarrassed by this unusual encumbrance of learning, he endeavoured to make all subservient
to his immediate design, of paying his court to Lady Clonbrony, by forwarding the object she had most anxiously in
view-the match between her son and Miss Broadhurst.
"And so, Miss Nugent," said he, not daring, with all
his assurance, to address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony-"and so, Miss Nugent, you are going to have great
doings, I'm told, and a wonderful grand gala. There's
nothing in the wide world equal to being in a good, handsome crowd. No later now than the last ball at the Castle
-that was before I left Dublin, Miss Nugent-the apartments, owing to the popularity of my lady-lieutenant, was
so throng-so throng-that I remember very well, in the
doorway, a lady-and a very genteel woman she was too,
though a stranger to me-saying to me, 'Sir, your finger's
in my ear.' 'I know it, madam,' says I, 'but I can't take
it out till the crowd give me elbow room.'
"But it's gala I'm thinking of now. I hear you are to
have the golden Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won't you? "
"Sir!"
This freezing monosyllable notwithstanding, Sir Terence
pursued his course fluently. "The golden Venus!-Sure,
Miss Nugent, you, that are so quick, can't but know I
would apostrophise Miss Broadhurst that is, but that won't
be long so, I hope. My Lord Colambre, have you seen
much yet of that young lady?"
" No, sir."
"Then I hope you won't be long so. I hear great talk
now of the Venus of Medicis, and the Venus of this and
26




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that, with the Florence Venus, and the sable Venus, and
that other Venus, that's washing of her hair, and a hundred other Venuses, some good, some bad. But, be that
as it will, my lord, trust a fool-ye may, when he tells
you truth-the golden Venus is the only one on earth
that can stand, or that will stand, through all ages and
temperatures; for gold rules the court, gold rules the
camp, and men below, and heaven above."
"Heaven above! Take care, Terry! Do you know
what you're saying?" interrupted Lord Clonbrony.
"Do I? Don't I? " replied Terry. "Deny, if you please,
my lord, that it was for a golden pippin that the three
goddesses fit-and that the Hizfpomenes was about golden
apples-and did not Hercules rob a garden for golden apples?-and did not the pious Eneas himself take a golden
branch with him, to make himself welcome to his father
in hell? " said Sir Terence, winking at Lord Colambre.
"Why, Terry, you know more about books than I should
have suspected," said Lord Clonbrony.
"Nor you would not have suspected me to have such
a great acquaintance among the goddesses neither, would
you, my lord? But, apropos, before we quit, of what
material, think ye, was that same Venus's famous girdle,
now, that made roses and lilies so quickly appear? Why,
what was it, but a girdle of sterling gold, I'll engage?-for
gold is the only true thing for a young man to look after in
a wife."
Sir Terence paused, but no applause ensued.
"Let them talk of Cupids and darts, and the mother of
the Loves and Graces.' Minerva may sing odes and dythambrics, or whatsoever her wisdomship pleases. Let her sing,
or let her say she'll never get a husband in this world or
the other, without she had a good thumping fortin, and
then she'd go off like wildfire."
"No, no, Terry, there you're out; Minerva has too bad
a character for learning to be a favourite with gentlemen,"
said Lord Clonbrony.
"Tut-Don't tell me!-I'd get her off before you could
say Jack Robinson, and thank you too, if she had fifty
27




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thousand down, or a thousand a year in land. Would you
have a man so d-d nice as to balk when house and land is
a-going-a-going-a-going!-because of the encumbrance
of a little learning? I never heard that Miss Broadhurst
was anything of a learned lady."
"Miss Broadhurst!" said Grace Nugent; "how did you
get round to Miss Broadhurst?"
"Oh! by the way of Tipperary," said Lord Colambre.
"I beg your pardon, my lord, it was apropos to a good
fortune, which, I hope, will not be out of your way, even
if you went by Tipperary. She has, besides  10oo,ooo in
the funds, a clear landed property of ~10,ooo per annum.
Well! some people talk of morality, and some of relzgion,
but give me a little snug PROPERTY. But, my lord, I've a
little business to transact this morning, and must not be
idling and indulging myself here." So, bowing to the
ladies, he departed.
"Really, I am glad that man is gone," said Lady Clonbrony. "What a relief to one's ears! I am sure I wonder,
my lord, how you can bear to carry that strange creature
always about with you-so vulgar as he is."
"He diverts me," said Lord Clonbrony, "while many of
your correct-mannered fine ladies or gentlemen put me to
sleep. What signifies what accent people speak in that
have nothing to say-hey, Colambre? "
Lord Colambre, from respect to his father, did not express his opinion, but his aversion to Sir Terence O'Fay
was stronger even than his mother's; though Lady Clonbrony's detestation of him was much increased by perceiving that his coarse hints about Miss Broadhurst had
operated against her favourite scheme.
The next morning, at breakfast, Lord Clonbrony talked
of bringing Sir Terence with him that night to her gala.
She absolutely grew pale with horror.
"Good heavens! Lady Langdale, Mrs. Dareville, Lady
Pococke, Lady Chatterton, Lady D--, Lady G-, his
Grace of V--; what would they think of him? And Miss
Broadhurst to see him going about with my Lord Clonbrony! "-It could not be. No; her ladyship made the
28




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most solemn and desperate protestation, that she would
sooner give up her gala altogether-tie up the knocker-say
she was sick-rather be sick, or be dead, than be obliged
to have such a creature as Sir Terence O'Fay at her gala.
"Have it your own way, my dear, as you have everything else! " cried Lord Clonbrony, taking up his hat, and
preparing to decamp; "but, take notice, if you won't receive him you need not expect me. So a good morning
to you, my Lady Clonbrony. You may find a worse friend
in need, yet, than that same Sir Terence O'Fay."
"I trust I shall never be in need, my lord," replied her
ladyship. "It would be strange, indeed, if I were, with
the fortune I brought."
"Oh! that fortune of hers!" cried Lord Clonbrony,
stopping both his ears as he ran out of the room; "shall I
never hear the end of that fortune, when I've seen the end
of it long ago? "
During this matrimonial dialogue, Grace Nugent and
Lord Colambre never once looked at each other. Grace
was very diligently trying the changes that could be made
in the positions of a china-mouse, a cat, a dog, a cup, and
a Brahmin, on the mantlepiece; Lord Colambre as diligently reading the newspaper.
"Now, my dear Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "put
down the paper, and listen to me. Let me entreat you
not to neglect Miss Broadhurst to-night, as I know that
the family come here chiefly on your account."
"My dear mother, I never can neglect any deserving
young lady, and particularly one of your guests; but I
shall be careful not to do more than not to neglect, for I
never will pretend what I do not feel."
"But, my dear Colambre, Miss Broadhurst is everything
you could wish, except being a beauty."
"Perhaps, madam," said Lord Colambre, fixing his eyes
on Grace Nugent, "you think that I can see no farther
than a handsome face?"
The unconscious Grace Nugent now made a warm eulogium of Miss Broadhurst's sense, and wit, and independence of character.
29




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"I did not know that Miss Broadhurst was a friend of
yours, Miss Nugent?"
"She is, I assure you, a friend of mine; and, as a proof,
I will not praise her at this moment. I will go farther still
-I will promise that I never will praise her to you till you
begin to praise her to me."
Lord Colambre smiled, and now listened, as if he wished
that Grace should go on speaking, even of Miss Broadhurst.
"That's my sweet Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony.
"Oh! she knows how to manage these men -not one of
them can resist her!'"
Lord Colambre, for his part, did not deny the truth of
this assertion.
"Grace," added Lady Clonbrony, "make him promise
to do as we would have him."
"No; promises are dangerous things to ask or to give,"
said Grace. "Men and naughty children never make promises, especially promises to be good, without longing to
break them the next minute."
"Well, at least, child, persuade him, I charge you, to
make my gala go off well. That's the first thing we ought
to think of now. Ring the bell! And all heads and hands
I put in requisition for the gala."
CHAPTER III.
HE opening of her gala, the display of her splendid
reception-rooms, the Turkish tent, the Alhambra,
the pagoda, formed a proud moment to Lady Clonbrony. Much did she enjoy, and much too naturally, notwithstanding all her efforts to be stiff and stately, much
too naturally did she show her enjoyment of the surprise
excited in some and affected by others on their first
entrance.
One young, very young lady expressed her astonishment
so audibly as to attract the notice of all the bystanders.
Lady Clonbrony, delighted, seized both her hands, shook




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them, and laughed heartily; then, as the young lady with
her party passed on, her ladyship recovered herself, drew
up her head, and said to the company near her"Poor thing! I hope I covered her little naivetJ properly?
How NEW she must be!"
Then, with well-practised dignity, and half-subdued selfcomplacency of aspect, her ladyship went gliding aboutmost importantly busy, introducing my lady this to the
sphynx candelabra, and my lady that to the Trebisond
trellice; placing some delightfully for the perspective of
the Alhambra; establishing others quite to her satisfaction
on seraglio ottomans; and honouring others with a seat
under the statira canopy. Receiving and answering compliments from successive crowds of select friends, imagining
herself the mirror of fashion, and the admiration of the
whole world, Lady Clonbrony was, for her hour, as happy
certainly as ever woman was in similar circumstances.
Her son looked at her, and wished that this happiness
could last. Naturally inclined to sympathy, Lord Colambre reproached himself for not feeling as gay at this instant
as the occasion required. But the festive scene, the blazing
lights, the "universal hubbub," failed to raise his spirits.
As a dead weight upon them hung the remembrance
of Mordicai's denunciations; and, through the midst of
this Eastern magnificence, this unbounded profusion, he
thought he saw future domestic misery and ruin to those
he loved best in the world.
The only object present on which his eye rested with
pleasure was Grace Nugent. Beautiful-in elegant and
dignified simplicity--thoughtless of herself--yet with a
look of thought, and with an air of melancholy, which accorded exactly with his own feelings, and which he believed
to arise from the same reflections that had passed in his own
mind.
"Miss Broadhurst, Colambre! all the Broadhursts!" said
his mother, wakening him, as she passed by, to receive
them as they entered. Miss Broadhurst appeared, plainly
dressed-plainly, even to singularity--without any dia.
monds or ornament.
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"Brought Philippa to you, my dear Lady Clonbrony,
this figure, rather than not bring her at all," said puffing
Mrs. Broadhurst; "and had all the difficulty in the world
to get her out at all, and now I've promised she shall stay
but half an hour. Sore throat-terrible cold she took in
the morning. I'll swear for her, she'd not have come for
any one but you."
The young lady did not seem inclined to swear, or even
to say this for herself; she stood wonderfully unconcerned
and passive, with an expression of humour lurking in her
eyes, and about the corners of her mouth; whilst Lady
Clonbrony was "shocked," and "gratified," and "concerned," and "flattered"; and whilst everybody was hoping, and fearing, and busying themselves about her-" Miss
Broadhurst, you'd better sit here! "-"Oh, for Heaven's
sake! Miss Broadhurst, not there! " "Miss Broadhurst, if
you'll take my opinion"; and "Miss Broadhurst, if I may
advise-"
"Grace Nugent! " cried Lady Clonbrony-" Miss Broadhurst always listens to you. Do, my dear, persuade Miss
Broadhurst to take care of herself, and let us take her to
the inner little pagoda, where she can be so warm and so
retired-the very thing for an invalid. Colambre! pioneer
the way for us, for the crowd's immense."
Lady Anne and Lady Catharine H--, Lady Langdale's daughters,were at this time leaning on Miss Nugent's
arm, and moved along with this party to the inner pagoda.
There was to be cards in one room, music in another, dancing in a third, and, in this little room, there were prints
and chess-boards, etc.
"Here you will be quite to yourselves," said Lady Clonbrony; "let me establish you comfortably in this, which I
call my sanctuary-my snuggery - Colambre, that little
table!- Miss Broadhurst, you play chess?  Colambre,
you'll play with Miss Broadhurst--"
"I thank your ladyship," said Miss Broadhurst, "but I
know nothing of chess, but the moves. Lady Catharine,
you will play, and I will look on."
Miss Broadhurst drew her seat to the fire; Lady Cathar32




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ine sat down to play with Lord Colambre; Lady Clonbrony
withdrew, again recommending Miss Broadhurst to Grace
Nugent's care. After some commonplace conversation,
Lady Anne H--, looking at the company in the adjoining apartment, asked her sister how old Miss Somebody
was, who passed by. This led to reflections upon the
comparative age and youthful appearance of several of
their acquaintance, and upon the care with which mothers
concealed the age of their daughters. Glances passed between Lady Catharine and Lady Anne.
"For my part," said Miss Broadhurst, "my mother
would labour that point of secrecy in vain for me; for I am
willing to tell my age, even if my face did not tell it for
me, to all whom it may concern. I am past three-andtwenty-shall be four-and-twenty the 5th of next July."
"Three-and-twenty! Bless me! I thought you were
not twenty! " cried Lady Anne.
"Four-and-twenty next July!-impossible! " cried Lady
Catharine.
"Very possible," said Miss Broadhurst, quite unconcerned.
"Now, Lord Colambre, would you believe it? Can you
believe it? " asked Lady Catharine.
"Yes, he can," said Miss Broadhurst. "Don't you see
that he believes it as firmly as you and I do? Why should
you force his lordship to pay a compliment contrary to his
better judgment, or to extort a smile from him under false
pretences? I am sure he sees that you, ladies, and I trust
he perceives that I, do not think the worse of him for
this."
Lord Colambre smiled now without any false pretence;
and, relieved at once from all apprehension of her joining
in his mother's views, or of her expecting particular attention from him, he became at ease with Miss Broadhurst,
showed a desire to converse with her, and listened eagerly
to what she said. He recollected that Grace Nugent had
told him that this young lady had no common character;
and, neglecting his move at chess, he looked up at Grace
as much as to say, "Draw her out, pray."


3


33




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But Grace was too good a friend to comply with that
request; she left Miss Broadhurst to unfold her own character.
"It is your move, my lord," said Lady Catharine.
"I beg your ladyship's pardon---"
"Are not these rooms beautiful, Miss Broadhurst?" said
Lady Catharine, determined, if possible, to turn the conversation into a commonplace, safe channel; for she had
just felt, what most of Miss Broadhurst's acquaintance had
in their turn felt, that she had an odd way of startling
people, by setting their own secret little motives suddenly
before them.
"Are not these rooms beautiful?"
" Beautiful!-Certainly."'
The beauty of the rooms would have answered Lady
Catharine's purpose for some time, had not Lady Anne
imprudently brought the conversation back again to Miss
Broadhurst.
"Do your know, Miss Broadhurst," said she, "that if I
had fifty sore throats, I could not have refrained from my
diamonds on this GALA night; and such diamonds as you
have! Now, really, I could not believe you to be the same
person we saw blazing at the opera the other night! "
"Really! could not you, Lady Anne? That is the very
thing that entertains me. I only wish that I could lay
aside my fortune sometimes, as well as my diamonds, and
see how few people would know me then. Might not I,
Grace, by the golden rule, which, next to practice, is the
best rule in the world, calculate and answer that question? "
"I am persuaded," said Lord Colambre, "that Miss
Broadhurst has friends on whom the experiment would
make no difference."
"I am convinced of it," said Miss Broadhurst; "and
that is what makes me tolerably happy, though I have the
misfortune to be an heiress."
"That is the oddest speech," said Lady Anne. "Now
I should so like to be a great heiress, and to have, like you,
such thousands and thousands at command."
"And what can the thousands upon thousands do for
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me? Hearts, you know, Lady Anne, are to be won only
by radiant eyes. Bought hearts your ladyship certainly
would not recommend. They're such poor things-no
wear at all. Turn them which way you will, you can make
nothing of them."
"You've tried then, have you? " said Lady Catharine.
"To my cost. Very nearly taken in by them half a
dozen times; for they are brought to me by dozens; and
they are so made up for sale, and the people do so swear
to you that it's real, real love, and it looks so like it; and,
if you stoop to examine it, you hear it pressed upon you
by such elegant oaths-By all that's lovely!-By all my
hopes of happiness!-By your own charming self! Why,
what can one do but look like a fool, and believe; for these
men, at the time, all look so like gentlemen, that one cannot bring oneself flatly to tell them that they are cheats
and swindlers, that they are perjuring their precious souls.
Besides, to call a lover a perjured creature is to encourage
him. He would have a right to complain if you went back
after that."
"Oh dear! what a move was there! " cried Lady Catharine. "Miss Broadhurst is so entertaining to-night, notwithstanding her sore throat, that one can positively attend
to nothing else. And she talks of love and lovers too with
such connoissance defait-counts her lovers by dozens, tied
up in true-lovers' knots! "
"Lovers!-no, no! Did I say lovers?-suitors I should
have said. There's nothing less like a lover, a true lover,
than a suitor, as all the world knows, ever since the days
of Penelope. Dozens!-never had a lover in my life! And
fear, with much reason,I never shall have one to my mind."
"My lord, you've given up the game," cried Lady
Catharine; "but you make no battle."
"It would be so vain to combat against your ladyship,"
said Lord Colambre, rising, and bowing politely to Lady
Catharine, but turning the next instant to converse with
Miss Broadhurst.
"But when I talked of liking to be an heiress," said
Lady Anne, "I was not thinking of lovers."
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"Certainly. One is not always thinking of lovers, you
know," added Lady Catharine.
"Not always," replied Miss Broadhurst. "Well, lovers
out of the question on all sides, what would your ladyship
buy with the thousands upon thousands?"
"Oh, everything, if I were you," said Lady Anne.
"Rank, to begin with," said Lady Catharine.
"Still my old objection-bought rank is but a shabby
thing."
"But there is so little difference made between bought
and hereditary rank in these days," said Lady Catharine.
"I see a great deal still," said Miss Broadhurst; "so
much, that I would never buy a title."
"A title without birth, to be sure," said Lady Anne,
"would not be so well worth buying; and as birth certainly
is not to be bought--"
"And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not
buy," said Miss Broadhurst, "unless I could be sure to
have with it all the politeness, all the noble sentiments, all
the magnanimity-in short, all that should grace and dignify high birth."
"Admirable!" said Lord Colambre.   Grace Nugent
smiled.
"Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my
mother in mind I must go away?"
"I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it," said
his lordship.
"Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?" said
Lady Catharine. "Miss Nugent, I am afraid we have
made Miss Broadhurst talk so much, in spite of her hoarseness, that Lady Clonbrony will be quite angry with us.
And here she comes! "
My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss
Broadhurst would not think of running away; but Miss
Broadhurst could not be prevailed upon to stay. Lady
Clonbrony was delighted to see that her son assisted Grace
Nugent most carefully in sh/awling Miss Broadhurst; his
lordship conducted her to her carriage, and his mother
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ner, and from the young lady's having stayed threequarters, instead of half an hour-a circumstance which
Lady Catharine did not fail to remark.
The dancing, which, under various pretences, Lady
Clonbrony had delayed till Lord Colambre was at liberty,
began immediately after Miss Broadhurst's departure; and
the chalked mosaic pavement of the Alhambra was, in a
few minutes, effaced by the dancers' feet. How transient
are all human joys, especially those of vanity! Even on
this long meditated, this long desired, this gala night, Lady
Clonbrony found her triumph incomplete-inadequate to
her expectations.  For the first hour all had been compliment, success, and smiles; presently came the buts, and
the hesitated objections, and the "damning with faint
praise."  All that could be borne. Everybody has his
taste-and one person's taste is as good as another's; and
while she had Mr. Soho to cite, Lady Clonbrony thought
she might be well satisfied. But she could not be satisfied with Colonel Heathcock, who, dressed in black, had
stretched his "fashionable length of limb" under the statira
canopy upon the snow-white swan-down couch. When,
after having monopolised attention, and been the subject
of much bad wit, about black swans and rare birds, and
swans being geese and geese being swans, the colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville said, to vacate his
couch, that couch was no longer white-the black impression of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.
"Eh, now! really didn't recollect I was in black," was
all the apology he made. Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed that the appearance of the statira canopy
should be spoiled before the effect had been seen by Lady
Pococke, and Lady Chatterton, and Lady G--, Lady
P--, and the Duke of V--, and a party of superlative
fashionables, who had promised to look in upon her, but
who, late as it was, had not yet arrived. They came in at
last. But Lady Clonbrony had no reason to regret for
their sake the statira couch. It would have been lost upon
them, as was everything else which she had prepared with
so much pains and cost to excite their admiration. They
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came resolute not to admire. Skilled in the art of making
others unhappy, they just looked round with an air of
apathy. "Ah! you've had Soho!-Soho has done wonders for you here!-Vastly well!-Vastly well!-Soho's
very clever in his way! "
Others of great importance came in, full of some slight
accident that had happened to themselves, or their horses,
or their carriages; and, with privileged selfishness, engrossed the attention of all within their sphere of conversation. Well, Lady Clonbrony got over all this, and got
over the history of a letter about a chimney that was on
fire, a week ago, at the Duke of V--'s old house, in
Brecknockshire. In gratitude for the smiling patience with
which she listened to him, his Grace of V-- fixed his
glass to look at the Alhambra, and had just pronounced it
to be "Well!-very well! " when the Dowager Lady Chatterton made a terrible discovery-a discovery that filled
Lady Clonbrony with astonishment and indignation-Mr.
Soho had played her false! What was her mortification
when the dowager assured her that these identical Alhambra hangings had not only been shown by Mr. Soho to the
Duchess of Torcaster, but that her grace had had the refusal of them, and had actually rejected them, in consequence of Sir Horace Grant the great traveller's objecting
to some of the proportions of the pillars. Soho had engaged
to make a new set, vastly improved, by Sir Horace's suggestions, for her Grace of Torcaster.
Now Lady Chatterton was the greatest talker extant;
and she went about the rooms telling everybody of her
acquaintance-and she was acquainted with everybodyhow shamefully Soho had imposed upon poor Lady Clonbrony, protesting she could not forgive the man. "For,"
said she, "though the Duchess of Torcaster has been his
constant customer for ages, and his patroness, and all that,
yet this does not excuse him-and Lady Clonbrony's being
a stranger, and from Ireland, makes the thing worse."
From  Ireland!-that was the unkindest cut of all-but
there was no remedy.
In vain poor Lady Clonbrony followed the dowager
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about the rooms, to correct this mistake, and to represent,
in justice to Mr. Soho, though he had used her so ill, that
he knew she was an Englishwoman. The dowager was
deaf, and no whisper could reach her ear. And when
Lady Clonbrony was obliged to bawl an explanation in her
ear, the dowager only repeated"In justice to Mr. Soho!-No, no; he has not done you
justice, my dear Lady Clonbrony! and I'll expose him to
everybody. Englishwoman!-no, no, no!- Soho could
not take you for an Englishwoman! "
All who secretly envied or ridiculed Lady Clonbrony
enjoyed this scene. The Alhambra hangings, which had
been, in one short hour before, the admiration of the world,
were now regarded by every eye with contempt, as cast
hangings, and every tongue was busy declaiming against
Mr. Soho; everybody declared that, from the first, the
want of proportion had "struck them, but that they would
not mention it till others found it out."
People usually revenge themselves for having admired
too much, by afterwards despising and depreciating without
mercy-in all great assemblies the perception of ridicule is
quickly caught, and quickly, too, revealed. Lady Clonbrony, even in her own house, on her gala night, became
an object of ridicule-decently masked, indeed, under the
appearance of condolence with her ladyship, and of indignatiori against "that abominable Mr. Soho! "
Lady Langdale, who was now, for reasons of her own,
upon her good behaviour, did penance, as she said, for her
former imprudence, by abstaining even from whispered
sarcasms.  She looked on with penitential gravity, said
nothing herself, and endeavoured to keep Mrs. Dareville in
order; but that was no easy task. Mrs. Dareville had no
daughters, had nothing to gain from the acquaintance of
my Lady Clonbrony; and, conscious that her ladyship
would bear a vast deal from her presence, rather than
forego the honour of her sanction, Mrs. Dareville, without
any motives of interest, or good-nature of sufficient power
to restrain her talent and habit of ridicule, free from hope
or fear, gave full scope to all the malice of mockery, and
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all the insolence of fashion. Her slings and arrows, numerous as they were and outrageous, were directed against
such petty objects, and the mischief was so quick, in its
aim and its operation, that, felt but not seen, it is scarcely
possible to register the hits, or to describe the nature of the
wounds.
Some hits sufficiently palpable, however, were recorded
for the advantage of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony
led her to look at the Chinese pagoda, the lady paused,
with her foot on the threshold, as if afraid to enter this
porcelain Elysium, as she called it-Fool's Paradise, she
would have said; and, by her hesitation, and by the
half-pronounced word, suggested the idea -"None but
belles without petticoats can enter here," said she, drawing her clothes tight round her; "fortunately, I have but
two, and Lady Langdale has but one." Prevailed upon
to venture in, she walked on with prodigious care and
trepidation, affecting to be alarmed at the crowd of strange
forms and monsters by which she was surrounded.
"Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature i
Well, now I may boast I've been in a real Chinese pagoda!"
"Why yes, everything is appropriate here, I flatter myself," said Lady Clonbrony.
"And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in
defiance of bulls and blunders, to allow us a comfortable
English fireplace and plenty of Newcastle coal, in China!
-And a white marble-no! white velvet hearthrug, painted
with beautiful flowers-oh, the delicate, the usefuld thing! "
Vexed by the emphasis on the word useful, Lady Clonbrony endeavoured to turn off the attention of the company. "Lady Langdale, your ladyship's a judge of china
-this vase is an unique, I am told."
"I am told," interrupted Mrs. Dareville, "this is the
very vase in which B--, the nabob's father, who was,
you know, a China captain, smuggled his dear little Chinese
wife and all her fortune out of Canton--positively, actually
put the lid on, packed her up, and sent her off on shipboard!-True! true! upon my veracity! I'll tell you my
authority! "
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With this story Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from
the jar, to Lady Clonbrony's infinite mortification.
Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range
of china jars.
"Ali Baba and the forty thieves!" exclaimed Mrs. Dareville; "I hope you have boiling oil ready! "
Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that
Mrs. Dareville was uncommon pleasant to-night. "But
now," said her ladyship, "let me take you on to the Turkish tent."
Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of
the pagoda and into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony
began to breathe more freely; for here she thought she was
upon safe ground: "Everything, I flatter myself," said
she, "is correct and appropriate, and quite picturesque."
The company, dispersed in happy groups, or reposing on
seraglio ottomans, drinking lemonade and sherbet-beautiful Fatimas admiring, or being admired-" Everything here
quite correct, appropriate, and picturesque," repeated Mrs.
Dareville.
This lady's powers as a mimic were extraordinary, and
she found them irresistible. Hitherto she had imitated
Lady Clonbrony's air and accent only behind her back;
but, bolder grown, she now ventured, in spite of Lady
Langdale's warning pinches, to mimic her kind hostess before her face, and to her face. Now, whenever Lady
Clonbrony saw anything that struck her fancy in the dress
of her fashionable friends, she had a way of hanging her
head aside, and saying, with a peculiar sentimental drawl"How pretty!-how elegant! Now that quite suits my
teeste! " This phrase, precisely in the same accent, and
with the head set to the same angle of affectation, Mrs.
Dareville had the assurance to address to her ladyship,
apropos to something which she pretended to admire in
Lady Clonbropy's costume-a costume which, excessively
fashionable in each of its parts, was, all together, so extraordinarily unbecoming as to be fit for a print-shop. The
perception of this, added to the effect of Mrs. Dareville's
mimicry, was almost too much for Lady Langdale; she
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could not possibly have stood it, but for the appearance
of Miss Nugent at this instant behind Lady Clonbrony.
Grace gave one glance of indignation which seemed suddenly to strike Mrs. Dareville. Silence for a moment
ensued, and afterwards the tone of the conversation was
changed.
"Salisbury!-explain this to me," said a lady, drawing
Mr. Salisbury aside. "If you are in the secret, do explain
this to me; for unless I had seen it, I could not have believed it. Nay, though I have seen it, I do not believe it.
How was that daring spirit laid? By what spell? "
"By the spell which superior minds always cast on inferior spirits."
"Very fine," said the lady, laughing, "but as old as the
days of Leonora de Galigai, quoted a million times. Now
tell me something new and to the purpose, and better
suited to modern days."
"Well, then, since you will not allow me to talk of
superior minds in the present days, let me ask you if you
have never observed that a wit, once conquered in company by a wit of a higher order, is thenceforward in complete subjection to the conqueror, whenever and wherever
they meet? "
"You would not persuade me that yonder gentle-looking
girl could ever be a match for the veteran Mrs. Dareville?
She may have the wit, but has she the courage?"
"Yes; no one has more courage, more civil courage,
where her own dignity, or the interests of her friends are
concerned. I will tell you an instance or two to-morrow.'
"To-morrow!-To-night!-tell it me now."
"Not a safe place."
"The safest in the world, in such a crowd as this. Follow my example. Take a glass of orgeat-sip from time
/ to time, thus-speak low, looking innocent all the while
/   straight forward, or now and then up at the lamps-keep
on in an even tone-use no names-and you may tell anything."
"Well, then, when Miss Nugent first came to London,
Lady Langdale--"
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"Two names already-did not I warn ye? "
"But how can I make myself intelligible?"
"Initials-can't you use-or genealogy?-What stops
you? It is only Lord Colambre, a very safe person, I
have a notion, when the eulogium is of Grace Nugent."
Lord Colambre, who had now performed his arduous
duties as a dancer, and had disembarrassed himself of all
his partners, came into the Turkish tent just at this moment to refresh himself, and just in time to hear Mr. Salisbury's anecdotes.
"Now go on."
"Lady Langdale, you know, sets an inordinate value
upon her curtsies in public, and she used to treat Miss
Nugent, as her ladyship treats many other people, sometimes noticing, and sometimes pretending not to know her,
according to the company she happened to be with. One
day they met in some fine company-Lady Langdale
looked as if she was afraid of committing herself by a
curtsy. Miss Nugent waited for a good opportunity; and,
when all the world was silent, leant forward, and called to
Lady Langdale, as if she had something to communicate
of the greatest consequence, skreening her whisper with her
hand, as in an aside on the stage,-'Lady Langdale, you
may curtsy to me now-nobody is looking.' "
"The retort courteous! " said Lord Colambre-" the only
retort for a woman."
"And her ladyship deserved it so well. But Mrs. Dareville, what happened about her?"
"Mrs. Dareville, you remember, some years ago, went
to Ireland with some lady-lieutenant to whom she was related. There she was most hospitably received by Lord
and Lady Clonbrony-went to their country house-was
as intimate with Lady Clonbrony and with Miss Nugent as
possible-stayed at Clonbrony Castle for a month; and
yet, when Lady Clonbrony came to London, never took
the least notice of her. At last, meeting at the house of a
common friend, Mrs. Dareville could not avoid recognising
her ladyship; but, even then, did it in the least civil
manner and most cursory style possible. 'Ho! Lady
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Clonbrony!-didn't know you were in England!-When
did you come?--How long shall you stay in town?-Hope,
before you leave England, your ladyship and Miss Nugent
will give us a day?' A day!-Lady Clonbrony was so
astonished by this impudence of ingratitude, that she hesitated how to take it; but Miss Nugent, quite coolly, and
with a smile, answered, 'A day!-certainly-to you, who
gave us a month!'"
"Admirable! Now I comprehend perfectly why Mrs.
Dareville declines insulting Miss Nugent's friends in her
presence.
Lord Colambre said nothing, but thought much. "How
I wish my mother," thought he, "had some of Grace Nugent's proper pride! She would not then waste her
fortune, spirits, health, and life, in courting such people
as these."
He had not seen-he could not have borne to have beheld-the manner in which his mother had been treated by
some of her guests; but he observed that she now looked
harassed and vexed; and he was provoked and mortified by
hearing her begging and beseeching some of these saucy
leaders of the ton to oblige her, to do her the favour, to
do her the honour, to stay to supper. It was just readyactually announced. "No, they would not-they could
not; they were obliged to run away - engaged to the
Duchess of Torcaster."
"Lord Colambre, what is the matter?" said Miss Nugent,
going up to him, as he stood aloof and indignant: "Don't
look so like a chafed lion; others may perhaps read your
countenance as well as I do."
"None can read my mind so well," replied he. "Oh,
my dear Grace! "
"Supper!-supper!" cried she; "your duty to your
neighbour, your hand to your partner."
Lady Catharine, as they went downstairs to supper, observed that Miss Nugent had not been dancing, that she
had kept quite in the background all night-quite in the
shade.
"Those," said Lord Colambre, "who are contented in
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the shade are the best able to bear the light; and I am not
surprised that one so interesting in the background should
not desire to be the foremost figure in a piece."
The supper room, fitted up at great expense, with scenery to imitate Vauxhall, opened into a superb greenhouse,
lighted with coloured lamps, a band of music at a distance
-every delicacy, every luxury that could gratify the senses,
appeared in profusion. The company ate and drankenjoyed themselves- went away- and laughed at their
hostess. Some, indeed, who thought they had been neglected, were in too bad humour to laugh, but abused her in
sober earnest; for Lady Clonbrony had offended half, nay,
three-quarters of her guests, by what they termed her exclusive attention to those very leaders of the ton, from
whom she had suffered so much, and who had made it
obvious to all that they thought they did her too much
honour in appearing at her gala. So ended the gala for
which she had lavished such sums; for which she had
laboured so indefatigably; and from which she had expected such triumph.
"Colambre, bid the musicians stop; they are playing to
empty benches," said Lady Clonbrony. "Grace, my dear,
will you see that these lamps are safely put out? I am so
tired, so worn out, I must go to bed; and I am sure I have
caught cold too! What a nervous business it is to manage
these things! I wonder how one gets through it, or why
one does it! "
CHAPTER IV.
LADY CLONBRONY was taken ill the day after her
gala; she had caught cold by standing, when much
overheated, in a violent draught of wind, paying her
parting compliments to the Duke of V--, who thought
her a bore, and wished her in heaven all the time for keeping his horses standing. Her ladyship's illness was severe
and long; she was confined to her room for some weeks
by a rheumatic fever, and an inflammation in her eyes.
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Every day, when Lord Colambre went to see his mother,
he found Miss Nugent in her apartment, and every hour he
found fresh reason to admire this charming girl. The affectionate tenderness, the indefatigable patience, the strong
attachment she showed for her aunt, actually raised Lady
Clonbrony in her son's opinion. He was persuaded she
must surely have some good or great qualities, or she could
not have excited such strong affection. A few foibles out
of the question, such as her love of fine people, her affectation of being English, and other affectations too tedious to
mention, Lady Clonbrony was really a good woman, had
good principles, moral and religious, and, selfishness not
immediately interfering, she was good-natured; and though
her soul and attention were so completely absorbed in the
duties of acquaintanceship that she did not know it, she
really had affections-they were concentrated upon a few
near relations.  She was extremely fond and extremely
proud of her son. Next to her son, she was fonder of her
niece than of any other creature. She had received Grace
Nugent into her family when she was left an orphan, and
deserted by some of her other relations. She had bred her
up, and had treated her with constant kindness. This
kindness and these obligations had raised the warmest
gratitude in Miss Nugent's heart; and it was the strong
principle of gratitude which rendered her capable of endurance and exertions seemingly far above her strength. This
young lady was not of a robust appearance, though she now
underwent extraordinary fatigue. Her aunt could scarcely
bear that she should leave her for a moment; she could not
close her eyes unless Grace sat up with her many hours
every night. Night after night she bore this fatigue; and
yet, with little sleep or rest, she preserved her health, at
least supported her spirits; and every morning, when Lord
Colambre came into his mother's room, he saw Miss Nugent look as blooming as if she had enjoyed the most
refreshing sleep. The bloom was, as he observed, not
permanent; it came and went, with every emotion of her
feeling heart; and he soon learned to fancy her almost as
handsome when she was pale as when she had a colour.
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He had thought her beautiful when he beheld her in all
the radiance of light, and with all the advantages of dress
at the gala, but he found her infinitely more lovely and
interesting now, when he saw her in a sick-room-a halfdarkened chamber-where often he could but just discern
her form, or distinguish her, except by her graceful motion
as she passed, or when, but for a moment, a window-curtain
drawn aside let the sun shine upon her face, or on the unadorned ringlets of her hair.
Much must be allowed for an inflammation in the eyes,
and something for a rheumatic fever; yet it may seem
strange that Lady Clonbrony should be so blind and deaf
as neither to see nor hear all this time; that, having lived
so long in the world, it should never occur to her that it
was rather imprudent to have a young lady, n6t eighteen,
nursing her-and such a young lady!-when her son, not
one-and-twenty--and such a son!-came to visit her daily.
But, so it was. Lady Clonbrony knew nothing of loveshe had read of it, indeed, in novels, which sometimes for
fashion's sake she had looked at, and over which she had
been obliged to doze; but this was only love in bookslove in real life she had never met with-in the life she led,
how should she? She had heard of its making young
people, and old people even, do foolish things; but those
were foolish people; and if they were worse than foolish,
why it was shocking, and nobody visited them. But Lady
Clonbrony had not, for her own part, the slightest notion
how people could be brought to this pass, nor how anybody out of Bedlam could prefer to a good house, a decent
equipage, and a proper establishment, what is called love>^
in a cottage. As to Colambre, she had too good an opinion
of his understanding-to say nothing of his duty to his
family, his pride, his rank, and his being her son-to let
such an idea cross her imagination. As to her niece; in
the first place, she was her niece, and first cousins should
never marry, because they form no new connexions to
strengthen the family interest, or raise its consequence.
This doctrine her ladyship had repeated for years so often
and so dogmatically, that she conceived it to be incon47




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trovertible, and of as full force as any law of the land, or as
any moral or religious obligation. She would as soon have
suspected her niece of an intention of stealing her diamond
necklace as of purloining Colambre's heart, or marrying
this heir of the house of Clonbrony.
Miss Nugent was so well apprised, and so thoroughly
convinced of all this, that she never for one moment
allowed herself to think of Lord Colambre as a lover.
Duty, honour, and gratitude-gratitude, the strong feeling
and principle of her mind-forbade it; she had so prepared
and habituated herself to consider him as a person with
whom she could not possibly be united that, with perfect
ease and simplicity, she behaved towards him exactly as if
he was her brother-not in the equivocating sentimental
romance style in which ladies talk of treating men as their
brothers, whom they are all the time secretly thinking of
and endeavouring to please as lovers-not using this phrase
as a convenient pretence, a safe mode of securing herself
from suspicion or scandal, and of enjoying the advantages
of confidence and the intimacy of friendship, till the propitious moment, when it should be time to declare or avow
iA the secret of the heart. No; this young lady was quite
" above all double-dealing; she had no mental reservationno metaphysical subtleties - but, with plain, unsophisti.
cated morality, in good faith and simple truth, acted as she
professed, thought what she said, and was that which she
seemed to be.
As soon as Lady Clonbrony was able to see anybody,
her niece sent to Mrs. Broadhurst, who was very intimate
with the family; she used to come frequently, almost every
evening, to sit with the invalid. Miss Broadhurst accompanied her mother, for she did not like to go out with any
other chaperon-it was disagreeable to spend her time
alone at home, and most agreeable to spend it with her
friend Miss Nugent. In this she had no design, no coquetry; Miss Broadhurst had too lofty and independent a
spirit to stoop to coquetry: she thought that, in their interview at the gala, she understood Lord Colambre, and
that he understood her-that he was not inclined to court
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her for her fortune-that she would not be content with
any suitor who was not a lover. She was two or three
years older than Lord Golambre, perfectly aware of her
want of beauty, yet with a just sense of her own merit,
and of what was becoming and due to the dignity of her
sex. This, she trusted, was visible in her manners, and
established in Lord Golambre's mind; so that she ran no
risk of being misunderstood by him; and as to what the
rest of the world thought, she was so well used to hear
weekly and daily reports of her going to be married to fifty
different people, that she cared little for what was said on
this subject. Indeed, conscious of rectitude, and with an
utter contempt for mean and commonplace gossiping, she
was, for a woman, and a young woman, rather too disdainful of the opinion of the world. Mrs. Broadhurst, though
her daughter had fully explained herself respecting Lord
Golambre, before she began this course of visiting, yet rejoiced that, even on this footing, there should be constant
intercourse between them.  It was Mrs. Broadhurst's
warmest wish that her daughter should obtain rank, and
connect herself with an ancient family: she was sensible
that the young lady's being older than the gentleman
might be an obstacle; and very sorry she was to find that
her daughter had so imprudently, so unnecessarily, declared her age; but still this little obstacle might be overcome; much greater difficulties in the marriage of inferior
heiresses were every day got over, and thought nothing of.
Then, as to the young lady's own sentiments, her mother
knew them better than she did herself; she understood her
daughter's pride, that she dreaded to be made an object of
bargain and sale; but Mrs. Broadhurst, who, with all her
coarseness of mind, had rather a better notion of love matters than Lady Clonbrony, perceived, through her daughter's horror of being offered to Lord Colambre, through
her anxiety that nothing approaching to an advance on
the part of her family should be made, that if Lord Colambre should himself advance, he would stand a better chance
of being accepted than any other of the numerous persons
who had yet aspired to the favour of this heiress. The
4                    49




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very circumstance of his having paid no court to her at
first, operated in his favour; for it proved that he was not
mercenary, and that, whatever attention he might afterwards show, she must be sure would be sincere and disinterested.
"And now, let them but see one another in this easy,
intimate kind of way, and you will find, my dear Lady
Clonbrony, things will go on of their own accord, all the
better for our-minding our cards-and never minding
anything else. I remember, when I was young-but let
that pass-let the young people see one another, and manage their own affairs their own way-let them be together
-that's all I say. Ask half the men you are acquainted
with why they married, and their answer, if they speak
truth, will be: 'Because I met Miss such-a-one at such a
place, and we were continually together.' Propinquity!
propinquity! -as my father used to say--and he was
married five times, and twice to heiresses.'
In consequence of this plan of leaving things to themselves, every evening Lady Clonbrony made out her own
little card-table with Mrs. Broadhurst, and a Mr. and Miss
Pratt, a brother and sister, who were the most obliging,
convenient neighbours imaginable. From time to time,
as Lady Clonbrony gathered up her cards, she would direct
an inquiring glance to the group of young people at the
other table; whilst the more prudent Mrs. Broadhurst sat
plump with her back to them, pursing up her lips, and
contracting her brows in token of deep calculation, looking
down impenetrable at her cards, never even noticing Lady
Clonbrony's glances, but inquiring from her partner, "How
many they were by honours? "
The young party generally consisted of Miss Broadhurst, Lord Colambre, Miss Nugent, and her admirer, Mr.
Salisbury. Mr. Salisbury was a middle-aged gentleman,
very agreeable, and well informed; he had travelled; had
seen a great deal of the world; had lived in the best company; had acquired what is called good tact; was full of
anecdote, not mere gossiping anecdotes that lead to nothing, but anecdotes characteristic of national manners, of
50




THE ABSENTEE


human nature in general, or of those illustrious individuals
who excite public curiosity and interest. Miss Nugent
had seen him always in large companies, where he was
admired for his s~avoi~r-vzivrc, and for his entertaining anecdotes, but where he had no opportunity of producing any
of the higher powers of his understanding, or showing
character. She found that Mr. Salisbury appeared to her
quite a different person when conversing with Lord Colambre. Lord Colambre, with that ardent thirst for knowledge
which it is always agreeable to gratify, had an air of openness and generosity, a frankness, a warmth of manner,
which, with good breeding, but with something beyond it
and superior to its established forms, irresistibly won the
confidence and attracted the affection of those with whom
he conversed. His manners were peculiarly agreeable to a
person like Mr. Salisbury, tired of the sameness and egotism of men of the world.
Miss Nugent had seldom till now had the advantage of
hearing much conversation on literary subjects. In the
life she had been compelled to lead she had acquired accomplishments, had exercised her understanding upon
everything that passed before her, and from circumstances
had formed her judgment and her taste by observations
on real life; but the ample page of knowledge had never
been unrolled to her eyes. She had never had opportunities of acquiring literature herself, but she admired it in
others, particularly in her friend Miss Broadhurst. Miss
Broadhurst had received all the advantages of education
which money could procure, and had profited by them in
a manner uncommon among those for whom they are purchased in such abundance; she not only had had many
masters, and read many books, but had thought of what
she read, and had supplied, by the strength and energy of
her own mind, what cannot be acquired by the assistance
of masters. Miss Nugent, perhaps overvaluing the information that she did not possess, and free from all idea
of envy, looked up to her friend as to a superior being,
with a sort of enthusiastic admiration; and now, with
"Icharmed attention," listened, by turns, to her, to Mr.
51




THE ABSENTEE


Salisbury, and to Lord Colambre, whilst they conversed
on literary subjects-listened, with a countenance so full
of intelligence, of animation so expressive of every good
and kind affection, that the gentlemen did not always
know what they were saying.
"Pray go on," said she, once, to Mr. Salisbury; "you
stop, perhaps, from politeness to me-from compassion to
my ignorance; but, though I am ignorant, you do not tire
me, I assure you. Did you ever condescend to read the
Arabian tales? Like him whose eyes were touched by the
magical application from the dervise, I am enabled at once
to see the riches of a new world-Oh! how unlike, how
superior to that in which I have lived!-the GREAT world,
as it is called."
Lord Colambre brought down a beautiful edition of the
Arabian tales, looked for the story to which Miss Nugent
had alluded, and showed it to Miss Broadhurst, who was
also searching for it in another volume.
Lady Clonbrony, from her card-table, saw the young
people thus engaged.
"I profess not to understand these things so well as you
say you do, my dear Mrs. Broadhurst," whispered she;
"but look there now; they are at their books! What do
you expect can come of that sort of thing? So ill-bred,
and downright rude of Colambre, I must give him a hint."
"No, no, for mercy's sake! my dear Lady Clonbrony,
no hints, no hints, no remarks! What would you have?she reading, and my lord at the back of her chair, leaning
over-and allowed, mind, to lean over to read the same
thing. Can't be better! Never saw any man yet allowed
to come so near her! Now, Lady Clonbrony, not a word,
not a look, I beseech."
"Well, well!-but if they had a little music."
"My daughter's tired of music. How much do I owe
your ladyship now?-three rubbers, I think. Now, though
you would not believe it of a young girl," continued Mrs.
Broadhurst, "I can assure your ladyship, my daughter
would often rather go to a book than a ball."
"Well, now, that's very extraordinary, in the style in
52




THE ABSENTEE


which she has been brought up; yet books and all that are
so fashionable now, that it's very natural," said Lady
Clonbrony.
About this time, Mr. Berryl, Lord Colambre's Cambridge friend, for whom his lordship had fought the battle
of the curricle with Mordicai, came to town. Lord Colambre introduced him to his mother, by whom he was
graciously received; for Mr. Berryl was a young gentleman
of good figure, good address, good family, heir to a good
fortune, and in every respect a fit match for Miss Nugent.
Lady Clonbrony thought that it would be wise to secure
him for her niece before he should make his appearance in
the London world, where mothers and daughters would
soon make him feel his own consequence. Mr. Berryl, as
Lord Colambre's intimate friend, was admitted to the
private evening parties at Lady Clonbrony's, and he contributed to render them still more agreeable. His information, his habits of thinking, and his views, were all totally
different from Mr. Salisbury's; and their collision continually struck out that sparkling novelty which pleases
peculiarly in conversation. Mr. Berryl's education, disposition, and tastes, fitted him exactly for the station
which he was destined to fill in society-that of a country
gentleman; not meaning by that expression a mere eating,
drinking, hunting, shooting, ignorant country squire of the
old race, which is now nearly extinct; but a cultivated, enlightened, independent English country gentleman-the
happiest, perhaps, of human beings. On the comparative
felicity of the town and country life; on the dignity,
utility, elegance, and interesting nature of their different
occupations, and general scheme of passing their time, Mr.
Berryl and Mr. Salisbury had one evening a playful, entertaining, and, perhaps, instructive conversation; each party,
at the end, remaining, as frequently happens, of their own
opinion. It was observed that Miss Broadhurst ably and
warmly defended Mr. Berryl's side of the question; and in
their views, plans, and estimates of life, there appeared a
remarkable, and as Lord Colambre thought, a happy coincidence. When she was at last called upon to give her
53




THE ABSENTEE


decisive judgment between a town and a country life she
declared that "if she were condemned to the extrems cx
either, she should prefer a country life, as much as she
should prefer Robinson Crusoe's diary to the journal of
the idle man in the Spectator."
"Lord bless me! Mrs. Broadhurst, do you hear what
your daughter is saying?" cried Lady Clonbrony, who,
from the card-table, lent an attentive ear to all that was
going forward. " Is it possible that Miss Broadhurst, with
her fortune, and pretensions, and sense, can really be
serious in saying she would be content to live in the country? "
"What's that you say, child, about living in the country? " said Mrs. Broadhurst.
Miss Broadhurst repeated what she had said.
"Girls always think so who have lived in town," said
Mrs. Broadhurst. "They are always dreaming of sheep
and sheep-hooks; but the first winter the country cures
them; a shepherdess, in winter, is a sad and sorry sort of
personage, except at a masquerade."
"Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "I am sure Miss
Broadhurst's sentiments about town life, and all that,
must delight you; for do you know, ma'am, he is alway,
trying to persuade me to give up living in town? Colambre and Miss Broadhurst perfectly agree."
"Mind your cards, my dear Lady Clonbrony," interrupted Mrs. Broadhurst, "in pity to your partner. Mr.
Pratt has certainly the patience of Job-your ladyship has
revoked twice this hand."
Lady Clonbrony begged a thousand pardons, fixed her
eyes and endeavoured to fix her mind on the cards; but
there was something said at the other end of the room,
about an estate in Cambridgeshire, which soon distracted
her attention again. Mr. Pratt certainly had the patience
of Job. She revoked, and lost the game, though they had
four by honours.
As soon as she rose from the card-table, and could speak
to Mrs. Broadhurst apart, she communicated her apprehensions.
54




THE ABSENTEE


"'Seriou Sly, my dear madam, " said she, " I believe I have,dcn~e very wrong to admit Mr. Berryl just now, though it
was on Grace's account I did it. But, ma'yam, I did not
know Miss Broadhurst had an estate in Cambridgeshire;
their two estates just close to one another, I heard them
say. Lord bless me, ma'am!1 there's the danger of propinquity indeed!"
""No danger, no danger,"i persisted Mrs. Broadhurst.
"I know my girl better than you do, begging your ladyship's pardon. No one thinks less of estates than she
does. "
" Well, I only know I heard her talking of them, and
earnestly too."'
"Yes, very likely; but don't you know that girls never
think of what they are talking about, or rather talk of what
they are thinking about? And they have always ten times
more to say to the man they don't care for, than to him
they do. "
"Very extraordinary!" said Lady Clonbrony. 1I only
hope you are right."
"I am sure of it," said Mrs. Broadhurst. "Only let
things go on, and mind your cards, I beseech you, to-.morrow night better than you did to-night; and you will
see that things will turn out just as I prophesied. Lord
Colambre will come to a point-blank proposal before the
end of the week, and will be accepted, or my name's not
Broadhurst. Why, in plain English, I am clear my girl
likes him; and when that's the case, you know, can you
doubt how the thing will end? "
Mrs. Broadhurst was perfectly right in every point of
her reasoning but one. From long habit of seeing and
considering that such an heiress as her daughter might
marry whom she pleased-from constantly seeing that she
was the person to decide and to reject-Mrs. Broadhurst
had literally taken it for granted that everything was to
depend upon her daughter's inclinations: she was not mistaken., in the present case, in opining that the young lady
would not be averse to Lord Colambre, if he came to what
she called a point-blank proposal. It really never occurred
55




THE ABSENTEE


to Mrs. Broadhurst that any man, whom her daughter was
the least inclined to favour, could think of anybody else.
Quick-sighted in these affairs as the matron thought herself, she saw but one side of the question: blind and dull
of comprehension as she thought Lady Clonbrony on this
subject, she was herself so completely blinded by her own
prejudices, as to be incapable of discerning the plain thing
that was before her eyes; videlicet, that Lord Colambre
preferred Grace Nugent. Lord Colambre made no proposal before the end of the week, but this Mrs. Broadhurst
attributed to an unexpected occurrence, which prevented
things from going on in the train in which they had been
proceeding so smoothly. Sir John Berryl, Mr. Berryl's
father, was suddenly seized with a dangerous illness. The
news was brought to Mr. Berryl one evening whilst he
was at Lady Clonbrony's. The circumstances of domestic
distress, which afterwards occurred in the family of his
friend, entirely occupied Lord Colambre's time and attention. All thoughts of love were suspended, and his whole
mind was given up to the active services of friendship.
The sudden illness of Sir John Berryl spread an alarm
among his creditors which brought to light at once the disorder of his affairs, of which his son had no knowledge or
suspicion. Lady Berryl had been a very expensive woman,
especially in equipages; and Mordicai, the coachmaker,
appeared at this time the foremost and the most inexorable of their creditors. Conscious that the charges in his
account were exorbitant, and that they would not be
allowed if examined by a court of justice; that it was a
debt which only ignorance and extravagance could have in
the first instance incurred, swelled afterwards to an amazing amount by interest, and interest upon interest; Mordicai was impatient to obtain payment whilst Sir John yet
lived, or at least to obtain legal security for the whole sum
from the heir. Mr. Berryl offered his bond for the amount
of the reasonable charges in his account; but this Mordicai
absolutely refused, declaring that now he had the power in
his own hands, he would use it to obtain the utmost penny
of his debt; that he would not let the thing slip through




THE ABSENTEE


his fingers; that a debtor never yet escaped him, and never
should; that a man's lying upon his deathbed was no excuse to a creditor; that he was not a whiffler, to stand
upon ceremony about disturbing a gentleman in his last
moments: that he was not to be cheated out of his due by
such niceties; that he was prepared to go all lengths the
law would allow; for that, as to what people said of
him, he did not care a doit-" Cover your face with your
hands, if you like it, Mr. Berryl; you may be ashamed for
me, but I feel no shame for myself-I am not so weak."
Mordicai's countenance said more than his words; livid
with malice, and with atrocious determination in his eyes,
he stood. "Yes, sir," said he, "you may look at me as
you please-it is possible-I am in earnest. Consult what
you'll do now, behind my back or before my face, it comes
to the same thing; for nothing will do but my money or
your bond, Mr. Berryl. The arrest is made on the person
of your father, luckily made while the breath is still in the
body. Yes-start forward to strike me, if you dare--your
father, Sir John Berryl, sick or well, is my prisoner."
Lady Berryl and Mr. Berryl's sisters, in an agony of
grief, rushed into the room.
"It's all useless," cried Mordicai, turning his back upon
the ladies; "these tricks upon creditors won't do with me;
I'm used to these scenes; I'm not made of such stuff as
you think. Leave a gentleman in peace in his last moments. No! he ought not, nor shan't die in peace, if he
don't pay his debts; and if you are all so mighty sorry,
ladies, there's the gentleman you may kneel to; if tenderness is the order of the day, it's for the son to show it, not
me. Ay, now, Mr. Berryl," cried he, as Mr. Berryl took
up the bond to sign it, "you're beginning to know I'm not
a fool to be trifled with. Stop your hand, if you choose
"it, sir-it's all the same to me; the person, or the money,
I'll carry with me out of this house."
Mr. Berryl signed the bond, and threw it to him.
"There, monster!-quit the house! "
"Monster is not actionable-I wish you had called me
rascal," said Mordicai, grinning a horrible smile; and
57




THE ABSENTEE


taking up the bond deliberately, returned it to Mr. Berryl.
"This paper is worth nothing to me, sir-it is not witnessed."
Mr. Berryl hastily left the room, and returned with Lord
Colambre. Mordicai changed countenance and grew pale,
for a moment, at sight of Lord Colambre.
"Well, my lord, since it so happens, I am not sorry that
you should be witness to this paper," said he; "and indeed
not sorry that you should witness the whole proceeding;
for I trust I shall be able to explain to you my conduct."
"I do not come here, sir," interrupted Lord Colambre,
"to listen to any explanations of your conduct, which I perfectly understand;-I come to witness a bond for my friend
Mr. Berryl, if you think proper to extort from him such a
bond."
"I extort nothing, my lord. Mr. Berryl, it is quite a
voluntary act, take notice, on your part; sign or not, witness or not, as you please, gentlemen," said Mordicai,
sticking his hands in his pockets, and recovering his look
of black and fixed determination.
"Witness it, witness it, my dear lord," said Mr. Berryl,
looking at his mother and weeping sisters; "witness it,
quick!"
"Mr. Berryl must just run over his name again in your
presence, my lord, with a dry pen," said Mordicai, putting
the pen into Mr. Berryl's hand.
" No, sir," said Lord Colambre, "my friend shall never
sign it."
"As you please, my lord-the bond or the body, before
I quit this house," said Mordicai.
"Neither, sir, shall you have; and you quit this house
directly."
" How! how!-my lord, how's this?"
"Sir, the arrest you have made is as illegal as it is inhuman."
"Illegal, my lord! " said Mordicai, startled.
"Illegal, sir. I came into this house at the moment
when your bailiff asked and was refused admittance.
Afterwards, in the confusion of the family above stairs, he




THE ABSENTEE


forced open the house door with an iron bar-I saw himI am ready to give evidence of the fact. Now proceed at
your peril."
Mordicai, without reply, snatched up his hat, and walked
towards the door; but Lord Colambre held the door open
-the door was immediately at the head of the stairs-and
Mordicai, seeing his indignant look and proud form, hesitated to pass; for he had always heard that Irishmen are
"quick in the executive part of justice."
"Pass on, sir," repeated Lord Colambre, with an air of
ineffable contempt: "I am a gentleman-you have nothing
to fear."
Mordicai ran downstairs; Lord Colambre, before he went
back into the room, waited to see Mordicai and his bailiff
out of the house. When Mordicai was fairly at the bottom
of the stairs, he turned, and, white with rage, looked up at
Lord Colambre.
"Charity begins at home, my lord," said he. "Look at
home-you shall pay for this," added he, standing halfshielded by the house door, for Lord Colambre moved forward as he spoke the last words; "and I give you this
warning, because I know it will be of no use to you-Your
most obedient, my lord."
The house door closed after Mordicai.
"Thank Heaven!" thought Lord Colambre, "that I did
not horsewhip that mean wretch! This warning shall be
of use to me. But it is not time to think of that yet."
Lord Colambre turned from his own affairs to those of
his friend, to offer all the assistance and consolation in his
power. Sir John Berryl died that night. His daughters,
who had lived in the highest style in London, were left
totally unprovided for. His widow had mortgaged her
jointure. Mr. Berryl had an estate now left to him, but
without any income. He could not be so dishonest as to
refuse to pay his father's just debts; he could not let his
mother and sisters starve. The scene of distress to which
Lord Colambre was witness in this family made a still
greater impression upon him than had been made by
the warning or the threats of Mordicai. The similarity
59




THE ABSENTEE


between -the circumstances of his friend's family and of
his own struck him forcibly.
All this evil had arisen from Lady Berryl's passion for
living in London and at watering-places. She had made
her husband an ABSENTEE-an absentee from his home,
his affairs, his duties, and his estate. The sea, the Irish
Channel, did not, indeed, flow between him and his estate;
but it was of little importance whether the separation was
effected by land or water-the consequences, the negli-.
gence, the extravagance, were the same.
Of the few people of his age who are capable of profiting
by the experience of others, Lord Colambre was one.
" Experience, " as an elegant writer has observed, " is an
article that may be borrowed with safety, and is often dearly
bought."
CHAPTER V.
IN the meantime, Lady Clonbrony had been occupied
with thoughts very different from those which passed
in the mind of her son. Though she had never completely recovered from her rheumatic pains, she had become
inordinately impatient of confinement to her own house,
and weary of those dull evenings at home, which had, in
her son's absence, become insupportable. She told over
her visiting tickets regularly twice a day, and ga ve to every
card of invitation a heartfelt sigh. Miss Pratt alarmed her
ladyship, by bringing intelligence of some parties given by
persons of consequence, to which she was not invited. She
feared that she should be forgotten in the world, well
knowing how soon the world forgets those they do not see
every day and everywhere. How miserable is the fine
lady's lot who cannot forget the world, and who is forgot
by the world in a moment! How much more miserable
still is the condition of a would-be fine lady, working her
way up in the world with care and pains! By her, every
slightest failure of attention, from persons of rank and
fashion, is. marked and felt with jealous anxiety, and with
6o




THE ABSENTEE


a sense of mortification the most acute-an invitation
omitted is fmatter of the most serious consequence, not
only as it regards the present, but the future; for if she be
not invited by Lady A, it will lower her in the eyes of
Lady B, and of all the ladies of the alphabet. It will form
a precedent of the most dangerous and inevitable application. If she has nine invitations, and the tenth be wanting, the nine have no power to make her happy. This was
precisely Lady Clonbrony's case-there was to be a party
at Lady St. James's, for which Lady Clonbrony had no
card.
"So ungrateful, so monstrous, of Lady St. James!
What! was the gala so soon forgotten, and all the marked
attentions paid that night to Lady St. James!-attentions,
you know, Pratt, which were looked upon with a jealous
eye, and made me enemies enough, I am told, in another
quarter! Of all people, I did not expect to be slighted by
Lady St. James!"
Miss Pratt, who was ever ready to undertake the defence
of any person who had a title, pleaded, in mitigation of
censure, that perhaps Lady St. James might not be aware
that her ladyship was yet well enough to venture out.
"Oh, my dear Miss Pratt, that cannot be the thing; for,
in spite of my rheumatism, which really was bad enough
last Sunday, I went on purpose to the Royal Chapel, to
show myself in the closet, and knelt close to her ladyship.
And, my dear, we curtsied, and she congratulated me, after
church, upon my being abroad again, and was so happy to
see me look so well, and all that-Oh! it is something very
extraordinary and unaccountable!"
"But, I daresay, a card will come yet," said Miss Pratt.
Upon this hint, Lady Clonbrony's hope revived; and,
staying her anger, she began to consider how she could
manage to get herself invited. Refreshing tickets were
left next morning at Lady St. James's with their corners
properly turned up; to do the thing better, separate tickets
for herself and for Miss Nugent were left for each member
of the family; and her civil messages, left with the footman, extended to the utmost possibility of reminder. It




THE ABSENTEE


had occurred to her ladyship that for Miss Somebody, the
companion, of whom she had never in her life thought before, she had omitted to leave a card last time,- and she now
left a note of explanation; she further, with her rheumatic
head and arm out of the coach-window, sat, the wind
blowing keen upon her, explaining to the porter and the
footman, to discover whether her former tickets had gone
safely up to Lady St. James; and on the present occasion,
to make assurance doubly sure, she slid handsome expedition money into the servant's hand-'"'Sir, you will be sure
to remember. "-" Oh certainly, your ladyship!"
She -well knew what dire offence has frequently been
taken, what sad disasters have occurred, in the fashionable
world, from the neglect of a porter in delivering, or of a
footman in carrying up one of those talismanic cards.
But, in spite of all her manceuvres, no invitation to the
party arrived next day. Pratt was next set to work. Miss
Pratt was a most convenient go-between, who, in consequence of doing a thousand little services, to which few
others of her rank in life would stoop, had obtained the
entr~le to a number of great houses, and was behind the
scenes in many fashionable families. Pratt could find out,
and Pratt could hint, and'Pratt could manage to get things
done cleverly-and hints were given, in all directions, to
work round to Lady St. James. But still they did not
take effect. At last Pratt suggested that, perhaps, though
everything else had failed, dried salmon might be tried
with success. Lord Clonbrony had just had some uncommonly good from Ireland, which Pratt knew Lady St.
James would like to have at her supper, because a certain
personage, whom she would not name, was particularly
fond of it.-Wheel within wheel in the fine world, as well
as in the political world!-Bribes for all occasions, and for
all ranks! The timely present was sent, accepted with
many thanks, and understood as it was meant. Per favour
of this propitiatory offering, and of a promise of half a
dozen pair of real Limerick gloves to Miss Pratt-a promise which Pratt clearly comprehended to be a conditional
promise-the grand object was at length accomplished.
62




THE ABSENTEE


The very day before the party was to take place came
cards of invitation to Lady Clonbrony and to Miss Nugent,
with Lady St. James's apologies; her ladyship was concerned to fin t fthat, by some negligence of her servants,
these cards were not sent in proper time. " How slight an
apology will do from some people!"' thought Miss Nugent;
"how eager to forgive, when it is for our interest or our
pleasure; how well people act the being deceived, even
when all parties know that they see the whole truth; and
how low pride will stoop to gain its object! "
Ashamed of the whole transaction, Miss Nugent earnestly wished that a refusal should be sent, and reminded
her aunt of her rheumatism; but rheumatism and all other
objections were overruled-Lady Clonbrony would go.
It was just when this affair was thus, in her opinion, successfully settled, that Lord Colambre came in, with a
countenance of unusual seriousness, his mind full of the
melancholy scenes he had witnessed in his friend's family.
"What is the matter, Colambre? "
He related what had passed; he described the brutal
conduct of Mordicai; the anguish of the mother and sisters;
the distress of Mr. Berryl. Tears rolled down Miss Nugent's cheeks.  Lady Clonbrony declared it was very
shocking; listened with attention to all the particulars;
but never failed to correct her son, whenever he said Mr.
Berryl.
"Sir Arthur Berryl, you mean."
She was, however, really touched with compassion when
he spoke of Lady Berryl's destitute condition; and her son
was going on to repeat what Mordicai had said to him, but
Lady Clonbrony interrupted"Oh, my dear Colambre! don't repeat that detestable
man's impertinent speeches to me. If there is anything
really about business, speak to your father. At any rate,
don't tell us of it now, because I've a hundred things to
do," said her ladyship, hurrying out of the room. "Grace
-Grace Nugent! I want you! "
Lord Colambre sighed deeply.
"Don't despair," said Miss Nugent, as she followed to
63




THE ABSENTEE
obey her aunt's summons. "Don't despair; don't attempt
to speak to her again till to-morrow morning. Her head
is now full of Lady St. James's party. When it is emptied
of that, you will have a better chance. Never despair."
"Never, while you encourage me to hope-that any
good can be done."
Lady Clonbrony was particularly glad that she had carried her point about this party at Lady St. James's; because, from the first private intimation that the Duchess
of Torcaster was to be there, her ladyship flattered herself
that the long-desired introduction might then be accomplished. But of this hope Lady St. James had likewise
received intimation from the double-dealing Miss Pratt;
and a warning note was despatched to the duchess to let
her grace know that circumstances had occurred which had
rendered it impossible not to ask the Clonbronies. An
excuse, of course, for not going to this party was sent by
the duchess-her grace did not like large parties-she
would have the pleasure of accepting Lady St. James's
invitation for her select party on Wednesday the Ioth.
Into these select parties Lady Clonbrony had never been
admitted. In return for her great entertainments she was
invited to great entertainments, to large parties; but farther
she could never penetrate.
At Lady St. James's, and with her set, Lady Clonbrony
suffered a different kind of mortification from that which
Lady Langdale and Mrs. Dareville made her endure. She
was safe from the witty raillery, the sly innuendo, the insolent mimicry; but she was kept at a cold, impassable
distance, by ceremony-" So far shalt thou go, and no
farther" was expressed in every look, in every word, and
in a thousand different ways.
By the most punctilious respect and nice regard to precedency, even by words of courtesy-" Your ladyship does
me honour," etc.-Lady St. James contrived to mortify
and to mark the difference between those with whom
she was, and with whom she was not, upon terms of intimacy and equality. Thus the ancient grandees of Spain
drew a line of demarcation between themselves and the
64




THE ABSENTEE


newly-created nobility. Whenever or wherever they met,
they treated the new nobles with the utmost respect, never
addressed them but with all their titles, with low bows,
and with all the appearance of being, with the most perfect
consideration, anything but their equals; whilst towards
one another the grandees laid aside their state, and omitting their titles, it was, "Alcalai-Medina-Sidonia-Infantado," and a freedom and familiarity which marked equality.
Entrenched in etiquette in this manner, and 'mocked with
marks of respect, it was impossible either to intrude or to
complain of being excluded.
At supper at Lady St. James's, Lady Clonbrony's present was pronounced by some gentleman to be remarkably
high flavoured. This observation turned the conversation
to Irish commodities and Ireland. Lady Clonbrony, possessed by the idea that it was disadvantageous to appear as
an Irishwoman, or as a favourer of Ireland, began to be
embarrassed by Lady St. James's repeated thanks. Had
it been in her power to offer anything else with propriety,
she would not have thought of sending her ladyship anything from Ireland. Vexed by the questions that were
asked her about her country, Lady Clonbrony, as usual,
denied it to be her country, and went on to depreciate and
abuse everything Irish; to declare that there was no possibility of living in Ireland; and that, for her own part, she
was resolved never to return thither. Lady St. James,
preserving perfect silence, let her go on. Lady Clonbrony,
imagining that this silence arose from coincidence of opinion, proceeded with all the eloquence she possessed, which
was very little, repeating the same exclamations, and reiterating her vow of perpetual expatriation; till at last an
elderly lady, who was a stranger to her, and whom she
had till this moment scarcely noticed, took up the defence
of Ireland with much warmth and energy: the eloquence
with which she spoke, and the respect with which she was
heard, astonished Lady Clonbrony.
"Who is she? " whispered her ladyship.
"Does not your ladyship know Lady Oranmore-the
Irish Lady Oranmore?"


5


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"Lord bless me!-what have I said!-what have I done!
Oh! why did not you give me a hint, Lady St. James? "
"I was not aware that your ladyship was not acquainted
with Lady Oranmore," replied Lady St. James, unmoved
by her distress.
Everybody sympathised with Lady Oranmore, and admired the honest zeal with which she abided by her country, and defended it against unjust aspersions and affected
execrations. Every one present enjoyed Lady Clonbrony's
confusion, except Miss Nugent, who sat with her eyes
bowed down by penetrative shame during the whole of
this scene; she was glad that Lord Colambre was not witness to it; and comforted herselt with the hope that, upon
the whole, Lady Clonbrony would be benefited by the
pain she had felt. This instance might convince her that
it was not necessary to deny her country to be received in
i any company in England; and that those who have the
courage and steadiness to be themselves, and to support
what they feel and believe to be the truth, must command
respect. Miss Nugent hoped that in consequence of this
conviction Lady Clonbrony would lay aside the little affectations by which her manners were painfully constrained
and ridiculous; and, above all, she hoped that what Lady
Oranmore had said of Ireland might dispose her aunt to
listen with patience to all Lord Colambre might urge in
favour of returning to her home. But Miss Nugent hoped
in vain. Lady Clonbrony never in her life generalised any
observations, or drew any but a partial conclusion from
the most striking facts.
"Lord! my dear Grace! " said she, as soon as they were
seated in their carriage, "what a scrape I got into to-night
at supper, and what disgrace I came to!-and all this because I did not know Lady Oranmore. Now you see the
inconceivable disadvantage of not knowing everybodyeverybody of a certain rank, of course, I mean,"
Miss Nugent endeavoured to slide in her own moral on
the occasion, but it would not do.
"Yes, my dear, Lady Oranmore may talk in that kind of
style of Ireland, because, on the other hand, she is so highly
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connected in England; and, besides, she is an old lady, and
may take liberties; in short, she is Lady Oranmore, and
that's enough."
The next morning, when they all met at breakfast, Lady
Clonbrony complained bitterly of her increased rheumatism, of the disagreeable, stupid party they had had the
preceding night, and of the necessity of going to another
formal party that night, the next, and the next, and, in the
true fine lady style, deplored her situation, and the impossibility of avoiding those things,
Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel.
Miss Nugent determined to retire as soon as she could
from the breakfast-room, to leave Lord Colambre an opportunity of talking over his family affairs at full liberty. She
knew by the seriousness of his countenance that his mind
was intent upon doing so, and she hoped that his influence
with his father and mother would not be exerted in vain.
But just as she was rising from the breakfast-table, in came
Sir Terence O'Fay, and, seating himself quite at his ease,
in spite of Lady Clonbrony's repulsive looks, his awe of
Lord Colambre having now worn off"I'm tired," said he, "and have a right to be tired; for
it's no small walk I've taken for the good of this noble
family this morning. And, Miss Nugent, before I say
more, I'll take a cup of ta from you, if you please."
Lady Clonbrony rose, with great stateliness, and walked
to the farthest end of the room, where she established herself at her writing-table, and began to write notes.
Sir Terence wiped his forehead deliberately.
"Then I've had a fine run-Miss Nugent, I believe you
never saw me run; but I can run, I promise you, when it's
to serve a friend. And, my lord (turning to Lord Clonbrony), what do you think I run for this morning-to buy
a bargain-and of what?-a bargain of a bad debt-a debt
of yours, which I bargained for, and up just in time-and
Mordicai's ready to hang himself this minute. For what
do you think but that rascal was bringing upon you-but
an execution?-he was."
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"An execution!" repeated everybody present, except
Lord Colambre.
"And how has this been prevented, sir?" said Lord
Colambre.
"Oh! let me alone for that," said Sir Terence. "I got a
hint from my little friend, Paddy Brady, who would not be
paid for it either, though he's as poor as a rat. Well! as
soon as I got the hint, I dropped the thing I had in my
hand, which was the Dublin Evening, and ran for the bare
life-for there wasn't a coach-in my slippers, as I was, to
get into the prior creditor's shoes, who is the little solicitor
that lives in Crutched Friars, which Mordicai never dreamt
of, luckily; so he was very genteel, though he was taken
on a sudden, and from his breakfast, which an Englishman
don't like particularly-I popped him a douceur of a
draught, at thirty-one days, on Garraghty, the agent; of
which he must get notice; but I won't descant on the law
before the ladies-he handed me over his debt and execution, and he made me prior creditor in a trice. Then I
took coach in state, the first I met, and away with me to
Long Acre-saw Mordicai. 'Sir,' says I, 'I hear you're
meditating an execution on a friend of mine.' 'Am I?'
said the rascal; 'who told you so?' 'No matter,' said I;
'but I just called in to let you know there's no use in life
of your execution; for there's a prior creditor with his
execution to be satisfied first.' So he made a great many
black faces, and said a great deal, which I never listened
to, but came off here clean to tell you all the story."
"Not one word of which do I understand," said Lady
Clonbrony.
"Then, my dear, you are very ungrateful," said Lord
Clonbrony.
Lord Colambre said nothing, for he wished to learn more
of Sir Terence O'Fay's character, of the state of his father's
affairs, and of the family methods of proceeding in matters
of business.
"Faith! Terry, I know I'm very thankful to you-but
an execution's an ugly thing-and I hope there's no danger--"
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"Never fear! " said Sir Terence: "haven't I been at my
wits' ends for myself or my friends ever since I come to
man's estate-to years of discretion, I should say, for the
deuce a foot of estate have I! But use has sharpened my
wits pretty well for your service; so never be in dread, my
good lord; for look ye!" cried the reckless knight, sticking
his arms akimbo-"look ye here! in Sir Terence O'Fay
stands a host that desires no better than to encounter;
single witted, all the duns in the united kingdoms, Mordicai the Jew inclusive."
"Ah! that's the devil, that Mordicai," said Lord Clonbrony; "that's the only man on earth I dread."
"Why, he is only a coachmaker, is not he?" said Lady
Clonbrony: "I can't think how you can talk, my lord, of
dreading such a low man. Tell him, if he's troublesome,
we won't bespeak any more carriages; and, I'm sure, I wish
you would not be so silly, my lord, to employ him any
more, when you know he disappointed me the last birthday about the landau, which I have not got yet."
"Nonsense, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony; "you don't
know what you are talking of. Terry, I say, even a friendly
execution is an ugly thing."
"Phoo! phoo!-an ugly thing! So is a fit of the goutbut one's all the better for it after. 'Tis just a renewal of
life, my lord, for which one must pay a bit of a fine, you
know. Take patience, and leave me to manage all properly-you know I'm used to these things. Only you recollect, if you please, how I managed my friend Lord --;
it's bad to be mentioning names-but Lord everybodyknows-who-didn't I bring him through cleverly, when
there was that rascally attempt to seize the family plate?
I had notice, and what did I do, but broke open a partition between that lord's house and my lodgings, which
I had taken next door; and so, when the sheriff's officers
were searching below on the ground floor, I just shoved
the plate easy through to my bedchamber at a moment's
warning, and then bid the gentlemen walk in, for they
couldn't set a foot in my paradise, the devils! So they
stood looking at it through the wall, and cursing me,
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and I holding both my sides with laughter at their fallen
faces."
Sir Terence and Lord Clonbrony laughed in concert.
"This is a good story," said Miss Nugent, smiling; "but
surely, Sir Terence, such things are never done in real life?"
"Done! ay, are they; and I could tell you a hundred
better strokes, my dear Miss Nugent."
"Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony, "do pray have the
goodness to seal and send these notes; for really," whispered she, as her niece came to the table, "I cawnt stea, I
cawnt bear that man's vice, his accent grows horrider and
horrider! "
Her ladyship rose, and left the room.
"Why, then," continued Sir Terence, following up Miss
Nugent to the table, where she was sealing letters, "I must
tell you how I sarved that same man on another occasion,
and got the victory too."
No general officer could talk of his victories, or fight his
battles o'er again, with more complacency than Sir Terence
O'Fay recounted his civil exploits.
"Now I'll tell Miss Nugent. There was a footman in
the family, not an Irishman, but one of your powdered English scoundrels that ladies are so fond of having hanging
to the backs of their carriages; one Fleming he was, that
turned spy, and traitor, and informer, went privately and
gave notice to the creditors where the plate was hid in the
thickness of the chimney; but if he did, what happened?
Why, I had my counter-spy, an honest little Irish boy, in
the creditor's shop, that I had secured with a little douceur
of usquebaugh; and he outwitted, as was natural, the English lying valet, and gave us notice just in the nick, and I
got ready for their reception; and, Miss Nugent, I only
wish you'd seen the excellent sport we had, letting them
follow the scent they got; and when they were sure of
their game, what did they find?-Ha! ha! ha!-dragged
out, after a world of labour, a heavy box of-a load of
brickbats; not,'an item of my friend's plate-that was all
snug in the coal-hole, where them dunces never thought of
looking for it. Ha! ha! ha!"
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"But come, Terry," cried Lord Clonbrony, "I'll pull
down your pride. How finely, another time, your job of
the false ceiling answered in the hall. I've heard that
story, and have been told how the sheriff's fellow thrust
his bayonet up through your false plaster, and down came
tumbling the family plate-hey, Terry? That hit cost
your friend, Lord everybody-knows-who, more than your
head's worth, Terry."
"I ask your pardon, my lord, it never cost him a
farthing."
"When he paid ~7000 for the plate, to redeem it? "
"Well! and did not I make up for that at the races of
--? The creditors learned that my lord's horse, Naboclish, was to run at -  races; and, as the sheriff's officer
knew he dare not touch him on the race-ground, what does
he do, but he comes down early in the morning on the
mail-coach, and walks straight down to the livery stables.
He had an exact description of the stables, and the stall,
and the horse's body-clothes.
"I was there, seeing the horse taken care of; and, knowing the cut of the fellow's jib, what does I do, but whips
the body-clothes off Naboclish, and claps them upon a garrone that the priest would not ride.
"In comes the bailiff-'Good morrow to you, sir,' says
I, leading out of the stable my lord's horse, with an ould
saddle and bridle on.
" 'Tim Neal,' says I to the-groom, who was rubbing
down the garrone's heels, 'mind your hits to-day, and
wee'l wet the plate to-night.'
" 'Not so fast, neither,' says the bailiff-'here's my writ
for seizing the horse.'
" 'Och,' says I, 'you wouldn't be so cruel.'
" 'That's all my eye,' says he, seizing the garrone, while
I mounted Naboclish,and rode him off deliberately to --
"Ha! ha! ha!-That was neat, I grant you, Terry," said
Lord Clonbrony. "But what a dolt of a born ignoramus
must that sheriff's fellow have been, not to know Naboclish
when he saw him! "
"But stay, my lord-stay, Miss Nugent-I have more
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for you," following her wherever she moved. "I did not
let him off so, even. At the cant, I bid and bid against
them for the pretended Naboclish, till I left him on their
hands for 500 guineas. Ha! ha! ha!-was not that famous?"
"But," said Miss Nugent, "I cannot believe you are in
earnest, Sir Terence. Surely this would be--"
"What?-out with it, my dear Miss Nugent."
"I am afraid of offending you."
"You can't, my dear, I defy you-say the word that
came to the tongue's end; it's always the best."
"I was going to say, swindling," said the young lady,
colouring deeply.
" Oh! you was going to say wrong, then! It's not called
swindling amongst gentlemen who know the world-it's
only jockeying-fine sport-and very honourable to help
a friend at a dead lift. Anything to get a friend out of a
present pressing difficulty."
"And when the present difficulty is over, do your friends
never think of the future?"
"The future! leave the future to posterity," said Sir
Terence; "I'm counsel only for the present; and when the
evil comes, it's time enough to think of it. I can't bring
the guns of my wits to bear till the enemy's alongside of
me, or within sight of me at the least. And besides, there
never was a good commander yet, by sea or land, that
would tell his little expedients beforehand, or before the
very day of battle."
"It must be a sad thing," said Miss Nugent, sighing
deeply, "to be reduced to live by little expedients--daily
expedients."
Lord Colambre struck his forehead, but said nothing.
"But if you are beating your brains about your own
affairs, my Lord Colambre, my dear," said Sir Terence,
"there's an easy way of settling your family affairs at
once; and, since you don't like little daily expedients,
Miss Nugent, there's one great expedient, and an expedient for life, that will settle it all to your satisfaction
-and ours. I hinted it delicately to you before, but, be72




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tween friends, delicacy is impertinent; so I tell you, in
plain English, you've nothing to do but go and propose
yourself, just as you stand, to the heiress Miss B-, that
desires no better-"
"Sir!" cried Lord Colambre, stepping forward, red with
sudden anger. Miss Nugent laid her hand upon his arm"Oh, my lord!"
"Sir Terence O'Fay," continued Lord Colambre, in a
moderated tone, "you are wrong to mention that young
lady's name in such a manner."
"Why, then, I said only Miss B, and there are a
whole hive of bees. But I'll engage she'd thank me for
what I suggested, and think herself the queen bee if my
expedient was adopted by you."
"Sir Terence," said his lordship, smiling, "if my father
thinks proper that you should manage his affairs, and devise expedients for him, I have nothing to say on that
point; but I must beg you will not trouble yourself to
suggest expedients for me, and that you will have the
goodness to leave me to settle my own affairs."
Sir Terence made a low bow, and was silent for five seconds; then turning to Lord Clonbrony, who looked much
more abashed than he did"By the wise one, my good lord, I believe there are some
men-noblemen, too-that don't know their friends from
their enemies. It's my firm persuasion, now, that if I had
served you as I served my friend I was talking of, your son
there would, ten to one, think I had done him an injury by
saving the family plate."
"I certainly should, sir. The family plate, sir, is not the
first object in my mind," replied Lord Colambre; "family
honour-   Nay, Miss Nugent, I must speak," continued
his lordship, perceiving, by her countenance, that she was
alarmed.
"Never fear, Miss Nugent dear," said Sir Terence;
"I'm as cool as a cucumber. Faith! then, my Lord
Colambre, I agree with you, that family honour's a mighty
fine thing, only troublesome to one's self and one's friends,
and expensive to keep up with all the other expenses and
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debts a gentleman has nowadays. So I, that am under
no natural obligations to it by birth or otherwise, have just
stood by through life, and asked myself, before I would
volunteer being bound to it, what could this same family
honour do for a man in this world? And, first and foremost, I never remember to see family honour stand a man
in much stead in a court of law-never saw family honour
stand against an execution, or a custodiam, or an injunction even. 'Tis a rare thing, this same family honour, and
a very fine thing; but I never knew it yet, at a pinch, pay
for a pair of boots even," added Sir Terence, drawing up
his own with much complacency.
At this moment Sir Terence was called out of the room
by one who wanted to speak to him on particular business.
"My dear father,"' cried Lord Colambre, "do not follow
him; stay for one moment, and hear your son-your true
friend."
Miss Nugent went out of the room, that she might leave
the father and son at liberty.
" Hear your natural friend for one moment," cried Lord
Colambre. "Let me beseech you, father, not to have recourse to any of these paltry expedients, but trust your
son with the state of your affairs, and we shall find some
honourable means--"
"Yes, yes, yes, very true; when you're of age, Colambre, we'll talk of it; but nothing can be done till then.
We shall get on, we shall get through, very well, till then,
with Terry's assistance. And I must beg you will not
say a word more against Terry-I can't bear it-I can't
hear it-I can't do without him. Pray don't detain meI can say no more-except," added he, returning to his
usual concluding sentence, "that there need, at all events,
be none of this, if people would but live upon their own
estates, and kill their own mutton." He stole out of the
room, glad to escape, however shabbily, from present explanation and present pain. There are persons without
resource who in difficulties return always to the same
point, and usually to the same words.
While Lord Colambre was walking up and down the
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room, much vexed and disappointed at finding that he
could make no impression on his father's mind, nor obtain
his confidence as to his family affairs, Lady Clonbrony's
woman, Mrs. Petito, knocked at the door, with a message
from her lady, to beg, if Lord Colambre was by imself, he
would go to her dressing-room, as she wished to have a
conference with him. He obeyed her summons.
"Sit down, my dear Colambre-    "  And she began
precisely with her old sentence"With the fortune I brought your father, and with my
lord's estate, I cawnt understand the meaning of all these
pecuniary difficulties; and all that strange creature Sir
Terence says is algebra to me, who speak English. And I
am particularly sorry he was let in this morning-but he's
such a brute that he does not think anything of forcing
one's door, and he tells my footman he does not mind not
at home a pinch of snuff. Now what can you do with a
man who could say that sort of thing, you know-the
world's at an end."
"I wish my father had nothing to do with him, ma'am,
as much as you can wish it," said Lord Colambre; "but I
have said all that a son can with propriety say, and without effect."
"What particularly provokes me against him," continued
Lady Clonbrony, "is what I have just heard from Grace,
who was really hurt by it, too, for she is the warmest friend
in the world: I allude to the creature's indelicate way of
touching upon a tender pint, and mentioning an amiable
young heiress's name. My dear Colambre, I trust you
have given me credit for my inviolable silence all this time
upon the pint nearest my heart. I am rejoiced to hear you
was so warm when she was mentioned inadvertently by
that brute, and I trust you now see the advantages of the
projected union in as strong and agreeable a pint of view
as I do, my own Colambre; and I should leave things to
themselves, and let you prolong the decs of courtship as
you please, only for what I now hear incidentally from my
lord and the brute, about pecuniary embarrassments, and
the necessity of something being done before next winter.
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And indeed I think now, in propriety, the proposal cannot be delayed much longer; for the world begins to talk
of the thing as done; and even Mrs. Broadhurst, I know,
had no doubt that, if this contretemps about the poor Berryls
had not occurred, your proposal would have been made
before the end of last week."
Our hero was not a man to make a proposal because
Mrs. Broadhurst expected it, or to marry because the
world said he was going to be married. He steadily said
that, from the first moment the subject had been mentioned, he had explained himself distinctly; that the young
lady's friends'could not, therefore, be under any doubt as
to his intentions; that, if they had voluntarily deceived
themselves, or exposed the lady in situations from which
the world was led to make false conclusions, he was not
answerable: he felt his conscience at ease-entirely so, as
he was convinced that the young lady herself, for whose
merit, talents, independence, and generosity of character
he professed high respect, esteem, and admiration, had no
doubts either of the extent or the nature of his regard.
"Regard, respect, esteem, admiration!-Why, my dearest Colambre! this is saying all I want; satisfies me, and I
am sure would satisfy Mrs. Broadhurst and Miss Broadhurst
too."
"No doubt it will, ma'am; but not if I aspired to the
honour of Miss Broadhurst's hand, or professed myself her
lover."
"My dear, you are mistaken; Miss Broadhurst is too
sensible a girl, a vast deal, to look for love, and a dying
lover, and all that sort of stuff; I am persuaded-indeed
I have it from good, from the best authority-that the
young lady-you know one must be delicate in these cases,
where a young lady of such fortune, and no despicable
family too is concerned; therefore I cannot speak quite
plainly-but I say I have it from the best authority, that
you would be preferred to any other suitor, and, in short,
that-"
"I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you,"
cried Lord Colambre, colouring a good deal; "but you
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must excuse me if I say, that the only authority on which
I could believe this is one from which I am morally certain
I shall never hear it-from Miss Broadhurst herself."
"Lord, child! if you would only ask her the question,
she would tell you it is truth, I daresay."
"But as I have no curiosity on the subject, ma'am
"Lord bless me! I thought everybody had curiosity.
But still, without curiosity, I am sure it would gratify you
when you did hear it; and can't you just put the simple
question? "
"Impossible!
"Impossible!-now that is so very provoking when the
thing is all but done. Well, take your own time; all I will
ask of you then is, to let things go on as they are goingsmoothly and pleasantly; and I'll not press you farther on
the subject at present. Let things go on smoothly, that's
all I ask, and say nothing."
"I wish I could oblige you, mother; but I cannot do
this. Since you tell me that the world and Miss Broadhurst's friends have already misunderstood my intentions,
it becomes necessary, in justice to the young lady and to
myself, that I should make all further doubt impossible.
I shall, therefore, put an end to it at once, by leaving town
to-morrow. '
Lady Clonbrony, breathless for a moment with surprise,
exclaimed, "Bless me! leave town to-morrow! Just at the
beginning of the season! Impossible!-I never saw such
a precipitate, rash young man. But stay only a few weeks,
Colambre; the physicians advise Buxton for my rheumatism, and you shall take us to Buxton early in the seasonyou cannot refuse me that. Why, if Miss Broadhurst was
a dragon, you could not be in a greater hurry to run away
from her. What are you afraid of?"
"Of doing what is wrong-the only thing, I trust, of
which I shall ever be afraid."
Lady Clonbrony tried persuasion and argument-such
argument as she could use-but all in vain-Lord Colambre was firm in his resolution; at last, she came to tears;
and her son, in much agitation, said77




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"I cannot bear this, mother! I would do anything you
ask, that I could do with honour; but this is impossible. "
"Why impossible? I will take all blame upon myself;
and you are sure that Miss Broadhurst does not misunderstand you, and you esteem her, and admire her, and all
that; and all I ask is, that you'll go on as you are, and see
more of her; and how do you know but you may fall in
love with her, as you call it, to-morrow? "
"Because, madam, since you press me so far, my aff ections are engaged to another person. Do not look so
dreadfully shocked, my dear mother - I have told you
truly, that I think myself too young, much too young, yet,
to marry. In the circumstances in which I know my family
are, it is probable that I shall not for some years be able
to marry as I wish. You may depend upon it that I shall
not take any step, I shall not even declare my attachment
to the object of my affection, without your knowledge;
anfar from being inclined to follow headlong my own
passions-strong as they are-be assured that the honour
of my family, your happiness, my mother, my father's, are
my first objects: I shall never think of my own till these
are secured."
Of the conclusion of this speech, Lady Clonbrony heard
only the sound of the words; from the moment her son
had pronounced that his affections were engaged, she had
been running over in her head every probable and improbable person she could think of; at last, suddenly starting
up, she opened one of the folding-doors into the next
apartment, and called" Grace!-Grace Nugent!-put down your pencil, Grace,
this minute, and come here!"
Miss Nugent obeyed with her usual alacrity; and the
moment she entered the room, Lady Clonbrony, fixing her
eyes full upon her, said"There's your cousin Colambre tells me his affections are
engaged."
"Yes, to Miss Broadhurst, no doubt," said Miss Nugent,
smiling, with a simplicity and openness of countenance
which assured Lady Clonbrony that all was safe in that




THE ABSENTEE


quarter: a suspicion which had darted into her mind was
dispelled.
"No doubt. Ay, do you hear that no doubt, Colambre?
-Grace, you see, has no doubt; nobody has any doubt
but yourself, Colambre."
"And are your affections engaged, and not to Miss
Broadhurst? " said Miss Nugent, approaching Lord Colambre.
"There now! you see how you surprise and disappoint
everybody, Colambre."
"I arn sorry that Miss Nugent should be disappointed,"
said Lord Colambre.
"But because I am disappointed, pray do not call me
Miss Nugent, or turn away from me, as if you were displeased."
" It must, then, be some Cambridgeshire lady,"' said Lady
Clonbrony. "I am sure I am very sorry he ever went to Cambridge,-Oxford I advised: one of the Miss Berryls, I presume, who have nothing. I'll have nothing more to do with
those Berryls-there was the reason of the son's vast intimacy. Grace, you may give up all thoughts of Sir Arthur."
"I have no thoughts to give up, ma'am," said Miss
Nugent, smiling.  "Miss Broadhurst," continued she,
going on eagerly with what she was saying to Lord Colambre-"Miss Broadhurst is my friend, a friend I love and
admire; but you will allow that I strictly kept my promise,
never to praise her to you, till you should begin to praise
her to me. Now recollect, last night, you did praise her
to me, so justly, that I thought you liked her, I confess;
so that it is natural I should feel a little disappointed.
Now you know the whole of my mind; I have no intention
to encroach on your confidence; therefore, there is no occasion to look so embarrassed. I give you my word, I
will never speak to you again upon the subject, "said she,
holding out her hand to him, "provided you will never
again call me Miss Nugent. Am I not your own cousin
Grace?-Do not be displeased with her."
"You are my own dear cousin Grace; and nothing
can be farther from my mind than any thought of being
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displeased with her; especially just at this moment, when
I am going away, probably for a considerable time."
"Away!-when?-where? "''
"To-morrow morning, for Ireland."
"Ireland! of all places," cried Lady Clonbrony. "What
upon earth puts it into your head to go to Ireland? You
do very well to go out of the way of falling in love ridiculously, since that is the reason of your going; but what put
Ireland into your head, child?"
"I will not presume to ask my mother what put Ireland
out of her head," said Lord Colambre, smiling; "but she
will recollect that it is my native country."
"That was your father's fault, not mine," said Lady
Clonbrony; "for I wished to have been confined in England; but he would have it to say that his son and heir
was born at Clonbrony Castle-and there was a great argument between him and my uncle, and something about the
Prince of Wales and Caernarvon Castle was thrown in, and
that turned the scale, much against my will; for it was my
wish that my son should be an Englishman born--like myself. But, after all, I don't see that having the misfortune
to be born in a country should tie one to it in any sort of
way; and I should have hoped your English edication,
Colambre, would have given you too liberal idears for that
-so I reelly don't see why you should go to Ireland merely
because it's your native country."
"Not merely because it is my native country; but I wish
to go thither--I desire to become acquainted with it-because it is the country in which my father's property lies,
and from which we draw our subsistence."
"Subsistence! Lord bless me, what a word! fitter for a
pauper than a nobleman-subsistence! Then, if you are
going to look after your father's property, I hope you will
make the agents do their duty, and send us remittances.
And pray how long do you mean to stay? "
"Till I am of age, madam, if you have no objection. I
will spend the ensuing months in travelling in Ireland; and
I will return here by the time I am of age, unless you and
my father should, before that time, be in Ireland."
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" Not the least chance of that, if I can prevent it, I
promise you," said Lady Clonbrony.
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent sighed.
"And I am sure I shall take it very unkindly of you,
Colambre, if you go and turn out a partisan for Ireland,
after all, like Grace Nugent."
"A partisan! no;-I hope not a partisan, but a friend,"
said Miss Nugent.
"Nonsense, child!-I hate to hear people, women especially, and young ladies particularly, talk of being friends
to this country or that country. What can they know
about countries? Better think of being friends to themselves, and friends to their friends."
"I was wrong," said Miss Nugent, "to call myself a
friend to Ireland; I meant to say, that Ireland had been a
friend to me; that I found Irish friends, when I had no
other; an Irish home, when I had no other; that my earliest and happiest years, under your kind care, had been
spent there; and that I can never forget that, my dear aunt
-I hope you do not wish that I should."
"Heaven forbid, my sweet Grace!" said Lady Clonbrony, touched by her voice and manner-" Heaven forbid!
I don't wish you to do or be anything but what you are;
for I am convinced there's nothing I could ask you would
not do for me; and, I can tell you, there's few things you
could ask, love, I would not do for you."
A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.
Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the wishes of others, understood and answered, before
she ventured to make her request in words.
"Ask anything but that, Grace. Return to Clonbrony,
while I am able to live in London? That I never can or
will do for you or anybody!" looking at her son in all the
pride of obstinacy; "so there is an end of the matter. Go
you where you please, Colambre; and I shall stay where I
please:-I suppose, as your mother, I have a right to say
this much?"
Her son, with the utmost respect, assured her that he
had no design to infringe upon her undoubted liberty of
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judging for herself; that he had never interfered, except so
far as to tell her circumstances of her affairs, with which she
seemed to be totally unacquainted, and of which it might
be dangerous to her to continue in ignorance.
"Don't talk to me about affairs," cried she, drawing her
hand away from her son. "Talk to my lord, or my lord's
agents, since you are going to Ireland, about business-I
know nothing about business; but this I know, I shall stay
in England, and be in London, every season, as long as I
can afford it; and when I cannot afford to live here, I hope
I shall not live anywhere. That's my notion of life; and
that's my determination, once for all; for, if none of the
rest of the Clonbrony family have any, I thank Heaven I
have some spirit." Saying this, with her most stately
manner she walked out of the room. Lord Colambre instantly followed her; for, after the resolution and the
promise he had made, he did not dare to trust himself at
this moment with Miss Nugent.
There was to be a concert this night at Lady Clonbrony's, at which Mrs. and Miss Broadhurst were, of
course, expected. That they might not be quite unprepared for the event of her son's going to Ireland, Lady
Clonbrony wrote a note to Mrs. Broadhurst, begging her
to come half an hour earlier than the time mentioned in
the cards, "that she might talk over something priuar
that had just occurred."
What passed at this cabinet council, as it seems to have
had no immediate influence on affairs, we need not record.
Suffice it to observe, that a great deal was said, and nothing done. Miss Broadhurst, however., was not a young
lady who could be easily deceived, even where her passions were concerned. The moment her mother told her
of Lord Colambre's intended departure, she saw the whole
truth. She had a strong mind-was capable of drawing
aside, at once, the curtain *of self-delusion, and looking
steadily at the skeleton of truth-she had a generous, perhaps because a strong mind; for, surrounded, as she had
been from her childhood, by every means of self-indulgence
which wealth and flattery could bestow, she had discovered
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early, what few persons in her situation discover till late in
life, that selfish gratifications may render us incapable of
other happiness, but can never, of themselves, make us
happy. Despising flatterers, she had determined to make
herself friends-to make them in the only possible wayby deserving them. Her father made his immense fortune
by the power and habit of constant, bold, and just calculation. The power and habit which she had learned from
him she applied on a far larger scale; with him, it was
confined to speculations for the acquisition of money;
with her, it extended to the attainment of happiness. He
was calculating and mercenary: she was estimative and
generous.
Miss Nugent was dressing for the concert, or, rather, was
sitting half-dressed before her glass, reflecting, when Miss
Broadhurst came into her room. Miss Nugent immediately sent her maid out of the room.
"Grace," said Miss Broadhurst, looking at Grace with
an air of open, deliberate composure, "you and I are
thinking of the same thing-of the same person.'
"Yes, of Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent, ingenuously and sorrowfully.
"Then I can put your mind at ease, at once, my dear
friend, by assuring you that I shall think of him no more.
That I have thought of him, I do not deny-I have
thought, that if, notwithstanding the difference in our ages,
and other differences, he had preferred me, I should have
preferred him to any person who has ever yet addressed
me. On our first acquaintance, I clearly saw that he was
not disposed to pay court to my fortune; and I had also
then coolness of judgment sufficient to perceive that it was
not probable he should fall in love with my person. But
I was too proud in my humility, too strong in my honesty,
too brave, too ignorant; in short, I knew nothing of the
matter. We are all of us, more or less, subject to the delusions of vanity, or hope, or love--I-even I!-who
thought myself so clear-sighted, did not know how, with
one flutter of his wings, Cupid can set the whole atmosphere in motion; change the proportions, size, colour, i
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value, of eveiy object; lead us into a mirage, and leave us
in a dismal desert."
"My dearest friend!" said Miss Nugent, in a tone of
true sympathy.
"But none but a coward or a fool would sit down in the
desert and weep, instead of trying to make his way back
before the storm rises, obliterates the track, and overwhelms
everything. Poetry apart, my dear Grace, you may be
assured that I shall think no more of Lord Colambre."
"I believe you are right. But I am sorry, very sorry, it
must be so."
"Oh, spare me your sorrow!"
"My sorrow is for Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent.
"Where will he find such a wife?-Not in Miss Berryl, I
am sure-pretty as she is; a mere fine lady! Is it possible
that Lord Colambre-Lord Colambre!-should prefer such
a girl-Lord Colambre! "
Miss Broadhurst looked at her friend as she spoke, and
saw truth in her eyes; saw that she had no suspicion that
she was herself the person beloved.
"Tell me, Grace, are you sorry that Lord Colambre is
going away??"
"No, ILam glad. I was sorry when I first heard it; but
now I am glad, very glad; it may save him from a marriage unworthy of him, restore him to himself, and reserve
him for-   the only woman I ever saw who is suited to
him, who is equal to him, who would value and love him,
as he deserves to be valued and loved."
"Stop, my dear; if you mean me, I am not, and I never
can be, that woman. Therefore, as you are my friend, and
wish my happiness, as I sincerely believe you do, never, I
conjure you, present such an idea before my mind againit is out of my mind, I hope, for ever. It is important to
me that you should know and believe this. At least I
will preserve my friends. Now'let this subject. never be
mentioned or alluded to again between us, my dear. We
have subjects enough of conversation; we need not have
recourse to pernicious sentimental gossipings. There is a
great difference between wanting a confidante, and treating
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a friend with confidence. My confidence you possess; all
that ought, all that is to be known of my mind, you know,
and    Now I will leave you in peace to dress for the
concert."
"Oh, don't go! you don't interrupt me. I shall be
dressed in a few minutes; stay with me, and you may be
assured, that neither now, nor at any other time, shall I
ever speak to you on the subject you desire me to avoid.
I entirely agree with you about confidantes and sentimental gossipings. I love you for not loving them."
A thundering. knock at the door announced the arrival
of company.
"Think no more of love, but as much as you please
of friendship-dress yourself as fast as you can," said
Miss Broadhurst.  "Dress, dress is the order of the
day."
"Order of the day and order of the night, and all for
people I don't care for in the least," said Grace. "So life
passes! "
"Dear me, Miss Nugent," cried Petito, Lady Clonbrony's woman, coming in with a face of alarm, "not
dressed yet! My lady is gone down, and Mrs. Broadhurst
and my Lady Pococke's come, and the Honourable Mrs.
Trembleham; and signor, the Italian singing gentleman,
has been walking up and down the apartments there by
himself, disconsolate, this half-hour, and I wondering all
the time nobody rang for me-but my lady dressed, Lord
knows how! without anybody. Oh, merciful! Miss Nugent, if you could stand still for one single particle of a
second. So then I thought of stepping in to Miss Nugent;
for the young ladies are talking so fast, says I to myself, at
the door, they will never know how time goes, unless I
give 'em a hint. But now my lady is below, there's no
need, to be sure, to be nervous, so we may take the thing
quietly, without being in a flustrum. Dear ladies, is not
this now a very sudden motion of our young lord's for
Ireland?- Lud a mercy! Miss Nugent, I'm sure your
motions is sudden enough; and your dress behind is all,
I'm sure, I can't tell how."-"Oh, never mind," said the
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young lady, escaping from her; "it will do very well,
thank you, Petito."
"It will do very well, never mind," repeated Petito
muttering to herself, as she looked after the ladies, whilst
they ran downstairs. "I can't abide to dress any young
lady who says never mind, and it will do very well. That,
and her never talking to one confidantially, or trusting one
with the least bit of her secrets, is the thing I can't put up
with from Miss Nugent; and Miss Broadhurst holding the
pins to me, as much as to say, Do your business, Petito,
and don't talk.-Now, that's so impertinent, as if one
wasn't the same flesh and blood, and had not as good a
right to talk of everything, and hear of everything, as
themselves. And Mrs. Broadhurst, too, cabinet-councilling
with my lady, and pursing up her city mouth when I come
in, and turning off the discourse to snuff, forsooth; as if I
was an ignoramus, to think they closeted themselves to
talk of snuff. Now, I think a lady of quality's woman has
as good a right to be trusted with her lady's secrets as with
her jewels; and if my Lady Clonbrony was a real lady of
quality, she'd know that, and consider the one as much
my paraphernalia as the other. So I shall tell my lady
to-night, as I always do when she vexes me, that I never
lived in an Irish family before, and don't know the ways
of it-then she'll tell me she was born in Hoxfordshirethen I shall say, with my saucy look, 'Oh, was you, my
lady?-I always forget that you was an Englishwoman':
then maybe she'll say, 'Forget!-you forget yourself
strangely, Petito.' Then I shall say, with a great deal of
dignity, 'If your ladyship thinks so, my lady, I'd better
go.' And I'd desire no better than that she would take
me at my word; for my Lady Dashfort's is a much better
place, I'm told, and she's dying to have me, I know."
And having formed this resolution, Petito concluded her
apparently interminable soliloquy, and went with my lord's
gentleman into the antechamber, to hear the concert, and
give her judgment on everything; as she peeped in through
the vista of heads into the Apollo saloon-for to-night the
Alhambra was transformed into the Apollo saloon-she
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saw that whilst the company, rank behind rank, in close
semicircles, had crowded round the performers to hear a
favourite singer, Miss Broadhurst and Lord Colambre were
standing in the outer semicircle, talking to one another
earnestly. Now would Petito have given up her reversionary chance of the three nearly new gowns she expected
from Lady Clonbrony, in case she stayed; or, in case she
went, the reversionary chance of any dress of Lady Dashfort's except her scarlet velvet, merely to hear what Miss
Broadhurst and Lord Colambre were saying. Alas! she
could only see their lips move; and of what they were
talking, whether of music or love, and whether the match
was to be on or off, she could only conjecture. But the
diplomatic style having now descended to waiting-maids,
Mrs. Petito talked to her friends in the antechamber with
as mysterious and consequential an air and tone, as a charge
d'affaires, or as the lady of a charge d'affaires, could have i
assumed. She spoke of her private belief; of the impression left upon her mind,; and her confidantial reasons for
thinking as she did; of her "having had it from the fountain's head"; and of "her fear of any committal of her
authorities."
Notwithstanding all these authorities, Lord Colambre
left London next day, and pursued his way to Ireland,
determined that he would see and judge of that country
for himself, and decide whether his mother's dislike to
residing there was founded on caprice or reasonable causes.
In the meantime, it was reported in London that his
lordship was gone to Ireland to make out the title to some
estate, which would be necessary for his marriage settlement with the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst. Whether
Mrs. Petito or Sir Terence O'Fay had the greater share in
raising and spreading this report, it would be difficult to
determine; but it is certain, however or by whomsoever
raised, it was most useful to Lord Clonbrony, by keeping
his creditors quiet.


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CHAPTER VI.
THE tide did not permit the packet to reach the
Pigeon-house, and the impatient Lord Colambre
stepped into a boat, and was rowed across the bay
of Dublin. It was a fine summer morning. The sun
shone bright on the Wicklow mountains. He admired, he
exulted in the beauty of the prospect; and all the early
associations of his childhood, and the patriotic hopes of his
riper years, swelled his heart as he approached the shores
of his native land. But scarcely had he touched his mother
earth, when the whole course of his ideas was changed;
and if his heart swelled, it swelled no more with pleasurable sensations, for instantly he found himself surrounded
and attacked by a swarm of beggars and harpies, with
strange figures and stranger tones: some craving his charity, some snatching away his luggage, and at the same time
bidding him "never trouble himself," and "never fear."
A scramble in the boat and on shore for bags and parcels
began, and an amphibious fight betwixt men, who had
one foot on sea and one on land, was seen; and long and
loud the battle of trunks and portmanteaus raged! The
vanquished departed, clinching their empty hands at their
opponents, and swearing inextinguishable hatred; while
the smiling victors stood at ease, each grasping his booty
-bag, basket, parcel, or portmanteau: "And, your honour,
where will these go?-Where will we carry 'em all to, for
your honour? " was now the question. Without waiting
for an answer, most of the goods were carried at the discretion of the porters to the custom-house, where, to his
lordship'-s astonishment, after this scene of confusion, he
found that he had lost nothing but his patience; all his
goods were safe, and a few tinpennies made his officious
porters happy men and boys; blessings were showered
upon his honour, and he was left in peace at an excellent
hotel in - Street, Dublin. He rested, refreshed himself, recovered his- good-humour, and walked into the
coffee-house, where he found several officers - English,
Irish, and Scotch. One English officer, a very gentleman88




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like, sensible-looking man, of middle agre, was sitting reading
a little pamphlet, when Lord Colambre entered; he looked
up from time to time, and in a few minutes rose and joined
the conversation; it turned upon the beauties and defects
of the city of Dublin. Sir James Brooke, for that was the
name of the g~entleman, showed one of his brother officers
the book which he had been reading, observing that, in his
opinion, it contained one of the best views of Dublin wvhich
he had ever seen, evidently drawn by the hand of a master,
though in a slight, playful, and ironical style: it was "An
i'itercipted Letter from G/hinaz." The conversation extended from Dublin to various parts of Ireland, with all
which Sir James Brooke showed that he was well acquainted. Observing that this conversation was particularly interesting to Lord Colambre, and quickly perceiving
that he was speaking to one not ignorant of books, Sir
James spoke of different representations and misrepresentations of Ireland. In answer to Lord Colambre's inquiries,
he named the works which had afforded him most satisfaction; and with discriminative, not superficial celerity,
touched on all ancient and modern authors, from Spenser
and Davies to Young and Beaufort. Lord Colambre became anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a gentleman
who appeared so able and willing to aff ord him information.
Sir James Brooke, on his part, was flattered by this eagerness of attention, and pleased by our hero's manners and
conversation; so that, to their mutual satisfaction, they
spent much of their time together whilst they were at this
hotel; and, meeting frequently in society in Dublin, their
acquaintance every day increased and grew into intimacy
-an intimacy which was highly advantageous to Lord
Golambre's views of obtaining a just idea of the state of
manners in Ireland. Sir James Brooke had at different
periods been quartered in various parts of the countryhad resided long enough in each to become familiar with
the people, and had varied his residence sufficiently to
form comparisons between different counties, their habits,
and characteristics. Hence he had it in his power to direct
the attention of our young observer at once to the points
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most worthy of his examination, and to save him from the
common error of travellers-the deducing general conclusions from a few particular cases, or arguing from exceptions as if they were rules. Lord Colambre, from his
family connexions, had of course immediate introduction
into the best society in Dublin, or rather into all the good
society of Dublin.  In Dublin there is positively good
company, and positively bad; but not, as in London,
many degrees of comparison: not innumerable luminaries
of the polite world, moving in different orbits of fashion,
but all the bright planets of note and name move and revolve in the same narrow limits. Lord Colambre did not
find that either his father's or his mother's representations
of society in Dublin resembled the reality, which he now
beheld. Lady Clonbrony had, in terms of detestation,
described Dublin such as it appeared to her soon after the
Union; Lord Clonbrony had painted it with' convivial
enthusiasm, such as he saw it long and long before the
Union, when first he drank claret at the fashionable clubs.
This picture, unchanged in his memory, and unchangeable
by his imagination, had remained, and ever would remain,
the same. The hospitality of which the father boasted,
the son found in all its warmth, but meliorated and refined;
less convivial, more social; the fashion of hospitality had
improved. To make the stranger eat or drink to excess,
to set before him old wine and old plate, was no longer the
sum of good breeding. The guest now escaped the pomp
of grand entertainments; was allowed to enjoy ease and
conversation, and to taste some of that feast of reason and
that flow of soul so often talked of, and so seldom enjoyed.
Lord Colambre found a spirit of improvement, a desire for
knowledge, and a taste for science and literature, in most
companies, particularly among gentlemen belonging to the
Irish bar; nor did he in Dublin society see any of that confusion of ranks or predominance of vulgarity of which his
mother had complained. Lady Clonbrony had assured
him that, the last time she had been at the drawing-room
at the Castle, a lady, whom she afterwards found to be a
grocer's wife, had turned angrily when her ladyship had
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accidentally trodden on her train, and had exclaimed with
a strong brogue, "I'll thank you, ma'am, for the rest of
my tail. "
Sir James Brooke, to whom Lord Colambre, without
givzing zip his authority, mentioned the fact, declared that
he had no doubt the thing had happened precisely as it
was stated; but that this was one of the extraordinary
cases which ought not to pass into a general rule-that it
was a slight instance of that influence of temporary causes,
from which no conclusions, as to national manners, should
be drawn.
"I happened," continued Sir James, "to be quartered in
Dublin soon after the Union took place; and I remember
the great but transient change that appeared. From the
removal of both Houses of Parliament, most of the nobility, and many of the principal families among the Irish
commoners, either hurried in high hopes to London, or
retired disgusted and in despair to their houses in the
country. Immediately, in Dublin, commerce rose into the
vacated seats of rank; wealth rose into the place of birth.
New faces and new equipages appeared; people, who had
never been heard of before, started into notice, pushed
themselves forward, not scrupling to elbow their way even
at the Castle; and they were presented to my lord-lieutenant and to my lady-lieutenant; for their excellencies, for
the time being, might have played their vice-regal parts to
empty benches, had they not admitted such persons for
the moment to fill their court. Those of former times, of
hereditary pretensions and high-bred minds and manners,
were scandalised at all this; and they complained, with
justice, that the whole tone of society was altered; that the
decorum, elegance, polish, and charm of society was gone;
and I among the rest" (said Sir James) "felt and deplored
their change. But, now it is all over, we may acknowledge
that, perhaps, even those things which we felt most disagreeable at the time were productive of eventual benefit.
"Formerly, a few families had set the fashion. From
time immemorial everything had, in Dublin, been submitted to their hereditary authority; and conversation,
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though it had been rendered polite by their example, was,
at the same time, limited within narrow bounds. Young
people, educated upon a more enlarged plan, in time grew
up; and, no authority or fashion forbidding it, necessarily
rose to their just place, and enjoyed their due influence in
society. The want of manners, joined to the want of
knowledge in the new set, created universal disgust: they
were compelled, some by ridicule, some by bankruptcies,
to fall back into their former places, from which they could
never more emerge. In the meantime, -some of the Irish
nobility and gentry who had been living at an unusual expense in London-an expense beyond their incomes-were
glad to return home to refit; and they brought with them
a new stock of ideas, and some taste for science and literature, which, within these latter years, have become fashionable, indeed indispensable, in London. That part of
the Irish aristocracy, who, immediately upon the first incursions of the vulgarians, had fled in despair to their fastnesses in the country, hearing of the improvements which
had gradually taken place in society, 'and assured of the
final expulsion of the barbarians, ventured from their retreats, and returned to their posts in town. So that now,,"
concluded Sir James, "you find a society in Dublin composed of a most agreeable and salutary mixture of birth
and education, gentility and knowledge, manner and matter; and you see pervading the whole new life and energy,
new talent, new ambition, a desire and a determination to
improve and be improved-a perception that higher distinction can now be obtained in almost all company, by
genius and merit, than by airs and dress... 0 So
much for the higher order. Now, among the class of
tradesmen and shopkeepers, you may amuse yourself, my
lord, with marking the difference between them and persons
of the same rank in London. "
Lord Colambre had several commissions to execute for
his English friends, and he made it his amusement in every
shop to observe the manners and habits of the people. He
remarked that there are in Dublin two classes of tradespeople: one, who go into business with intent to make it
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their occupation for life, and as a slow but sure means of
providing for themselves and their families; another class,
who take up trade merely as a temporary resource, to
which they condescend for a few years, trusting that they
shall, in that time, make a fortune, retire, and commence
or recommence gentlemen. The Irish regular men of business are like all other men of business-punctual, frugal,
careful, and so forth; with the addition of more intelligence, invention, and enterprise than are usually found in
Englishmen of thesame rank. But the Dublin tradesmen
pro tempore are a class by themselves; they begin without
capital, buy stock upon credit in hopes of making large
profits, and, in the same hopes, sell upon credit. Now, if
the credit they can obtain is longer than that which they
are forced to give, they go on and prosper; if not, they
break, turn bankrupts, and sometimes, as bankrupts, thrive.
By such men, of course, every short cut to fortune is followed; whilst every habit, which requires time to prove its
advantage, is disregarded; nor with such views can a character forpunctuality have its just value. In the head of a
man who intends to be a tradesman to-day, and a gentleman
to-morrow, the ideas of the honesty and the duties of a
tradesman, and of the honour and the accomplishments of
a gentleman, are oddly jumbled together, and the characteristics of both are lost in the compound.
He will oblizge you, but he will not obey you; he will do
you a favour, but he will not do you jzustice, he will do
anything to serve you, but the particular thing you order he
neglects; he asks your pardon, for he would not, for all
the goods in his warehouse, disoblige you; not for the sake
of your custom, but he has a particular regard for your
family. Economy, in the eyes of such a tradesman, is, if
not a mean vice, at least a shabby virtue, which he is too
polite to suspect his customers of, and particularly proud
to prove himself superior to. Many London tradesmen,
after making their thousands and their tens of thousands,
feel pride in still continuing to live like plain men of business; but from the moment a Dublin tradesman of this
style has made a few hundreds, he sets up his gig, and then
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his head is in his carriage, and not in his business; and
when he has made a few thousands, he buys or builds a
country-house - and then, and thenceforward, his head,
heart, and soul are in his country-house, and only his body
in the shop with his customers.
Whilst he is making money, his wife, or rather his lady,
is spending twice as much out of town as he makes in it.
At the word country-house, let no one figure to himself a
snug little box, like that in which a warm London citizen,
after long years of toil, indulges himself, one day out of
seven, in repose-enjoying from his gazebo the smell of the
dust, and the view of passing coaches on the London road.
No: these Hibernian villas are on a much more magnificent
scale; some of them formerly belonged to Irish members
of Parliament, who are'at a distance from their countryseats. After the Union these were bought by citizens and
tradesmen, who spoiled, by the mixture of their own fancies,
what had originally been designed by men of good taste.
Some time after Lord Colambre's arrival in Dublin, he had
an opportunity of seeing one of these villas, which belonged
to Mrs. Raffarty, a grocer's lady, and sister to one of Lord
Clonbrony's agents, Mr. Nicholas Garraghty. Lord Colambre was surprised to find that his father's agent resided
in Dublin: he had been used to see agents, or stewards, as
they are called in England, live in the country, and usually
on the estate of which they have the management. Mr.
Nicholas Garraghty, however, had a handsome house in a
fashionable part of Dublin. Lord Colambre called several
times to see him, but he was out of town, receiving rents
for some other gentlemen, as he was agent for more than
one property.
Though our hero had not the honour of seeing Mr. Garraghty, he had the pleasure of finding Mrs. Raffarty one
day at her brother's house. Just as his lordship came to
the door, she was going, on her jaunting-car, to her villa,
called Tusculum, situate near Bray. She spoke much of
the beauties of the vicinity of Dublin; found his lordship
was going with Sir James Brooke and a party of gentlemen
to see the county of Wicklow; and his lordship and party
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were entreated to do her the honour of taking in his way a
little collation at Tusculum.
Our hero was glad to have an opportunity of seeing more
of a species of fine lady with which he was unacquainted.
The invitation was verbally made, and verbally accepted;
but the lady afterwards thought it necessary to send a
written invitation in due form, and the note she sent
directed to the most right honourable the Lord Viscount
Colambre. On opening it he perceived that it could not
have been intended for him. It ran as follows:
MY DEAR JULIANA O'LEARY,
I have got a promise from Colambre, that he will be with us
at Tusculum on Friday the 2oth, in his way from the county of
Wicklow, for the collation I mentioned; and expect a large
party of officers; so pray come early, with your house, or as
many as the jaunting-car can bring. And pray, my dear, be
elegant. You need not let it transpire to Mrs. O'G--; but
make my apologies to Miss O'G-, if she says anything, and
tell her I'm quite concerned I can't ask her for that day; because, tell her, I'm so crowded, and am to have none that day
but real quality.-Yours ever and ever,
ANASTASIA RAFFARTY..P.S.-And I hope to make the gentlemen stop the night with
me; so will not have beds. Excuse haste, and compliments, etc.
TUSCULUM, Sunday 15.
After a charming tour in the county of Wicklow, where
the beauty of the natural scenery, and the taste with which
those natural beauties had been cultivated, far surpassed
the sanguine expectations Lord Colambre had formed, his
lordship and his companions arrived at Tusculum, where
he found Mrs. Raffarty, and Miss Juliana O'Leary, very
elegant, with a large party of the ladies and gentlemen of
Bray, assembled in a drawing-room, fine with bad pictures
and gaudy gilding; the windows were all shut, and the
company were playing cards with all their might. This
was the fashion of the neighbourhood. In compliment to
Lord Colambre and the officers, the ladies left the cardtables; and Mrs. Raffarty, observing that his lordship
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seemed partial to walking, took him out, as she said, "to
do the honours of nature and art."
His lordship was much amused by the mixture, which
was now exhibited to him, of taste and incongruity, ingenuity and absurdity, genius and blunder; by the contrast
between the finery and vulgarity, the affectation and ignorance of the lady of the villa. We should be obliged to stop
too long at Tusculum were we to attempt to detail all the
odd circumstances of this visit; but we may record an
example or two which may give a sufficient idea of the
whole.
In the first place, before they left the drawing-room, Miss
-!  Juliana O'Leary pointed out to his lordship's attention a
picture over the drawing-room chimney-piece. "Is not it
a fine piece, my lord? " said she, naming the price Mrs.
Raffarty had lately paid for it at an auction.-"It has a
right to be a fine piece, indeed; for it cost a fine price!"
Nevertheless this fine piece was a vile daub; and our hero
could only avoid the sin of flattery, or the danger of offending the lady, by protesting that he had no judgment in
pictures.
"Indeed, I don't pretend to be a connoisseur or conoscenti myself; but I'm told the style is undeniably modern.
And was not I lucky, Juliana, not to let that Medona be
knocked down to me? I was just going to bid, when I
heard such smart bidding; but fortunately the auctioneer
let out that it was done by a very old master-a hundred
years old. Oh! your most obedient, thinks I!-if that's
the case, it's not for my money; so I bought this, in lieu
of the smoke-dried thing, and had it a bargain."
In architecture, Mrs. Raffarty had as good a taste and as
much skill as in painting. There had been a handsome
portico in front of the house; but this interfering with the
lady's desire to have a veranda, which she said could not
be dispensed with, she had raised the whole portico to the
second story, where it stood, or seemed to stand, upon a
tarpaulin roof. But Mrs. Raffarty explained that the pillars, though they looked so properly substantial, were
really hollow and as light as feathers, and were supported
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with cramps, without disobliging the front wall of the house
at all to signify.
"Before she showed the company any farther," she said,
"she must premise to his lordship, that she had been
originally stinted in room for her improvements, so that
she could not follow her genius liberally; she had been
reduced to have some things on a confined scale, and occasionally to consult her pocket-compass; but she prided
herself upon having put as much into a light pattern as
could well be; that had been her whole ambition, study,
and problem, for she was determined to have at least the
honour of having a little taste of everything at Tusculum."
So she led the way to a little conservatory, and a little
pinery, and a little grapery, and a little aviary, and a little
pheasantry, and a little dairy for show, and a little cottage
for ditto, with a grotto full of shells, and a little hermitage
full of earwigs, and a little ruin full of looking-glass, "to
enlarge and multiply the effect of the Gothic."  "But you
could only put your head in, because it was just fresh
painted, and though there had been a fire ordered in the
ruin all night, it had only smoked."
In all Mrs. Raffarty's buildings, whether ancient or
modern, there was a studied crookedness.
"Yes," she said, "she hated everything straight, it was
so formal and unpicturesquze. Uniformity and conformity,''
she observed, "had their day; but now, thank the stars of
the present day, irregularity and difformity bear the bell,
and have the majority."
As they proceeded and walked through the grounds,
from which Mrs. Raffarty, though she had done her best,
could not take that which nature had given, she pointed
out to my lord "a happy moving termination," consisting
of a Chinese bridge, with a fisherman leaning over the rails.
On a sudden, the fisherman was seen to tumble over the
bridge into the water. The gentlemen ran to extricate
the poor fellow, while they heard Mrs. Raffarty bawling to
his lordship to beg he would never mind, and not trouble
himself.
When they arrived at the bridge, they saw the man
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hanging from part of the bridge, and apparently struggling
in the water; but when they attempted to pull him up,
they found it was only a stuffed figure which had been
pulled into the stream by a real fish, which had seized hold
of the bait.
Mrs. Raffarty, vexed by the fisherman's fall, and by the
laughter it occasioned, did not recover herself sufficiently
to be happily ridiculous during the remainder of the walk,
nor till dinner was announced, when she apologised for
"having changed the collation, at first intended, into a
dinner, which she hoped would be found no bad substitute,
and which she flattered herself might prevail on my lord
and the gentlemen to sleep, as there was no moon."
The dinner had two great faults-profusion and pretension. There was, in fact, ten times more on the table than
was necessary; and the entertainment was far above the
circumstances of the person by whom it was given; for instance, the dish of fish at the head of the table had been
brought across the island from Sligo, and had cost five
guineas; as the lady of the house failed not to make
known. But, after all, things were not of a piece; there
was a disparity between the entertainment and the attendants; there was no proportion or fitness of things-a painful endeavour at what could not be attained, and a toiling
in vain to conceal and repair deficiencies and blunders.
Had the mistress of the house been quiet; had she, as Mrs.
Broadhurst would say, but let things alone, let things take
their course, all would have passed off with well-bred people; but she was incessantly apologising, and fussing, and
fretting inwardly and outwardly, and directing and calling
to her servants-striving to make a butler who was deaf, a
boy who was hare-brained, do the business of five accomplished footmen of parts and figure. The mistress of the
house called for "plates, clean plates!-hot plates! "
"But none did come, when she did call for them."
Mrs. Raffarty called "Larry! Larry! My lord's plate,
there!-James! bread to Captain Bowles!-James! port
wine to the major!-James! James Kenny! James! "
"And panting James toiled after her in vain."
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At length one course was fairly got through, and after a
torturing half-hour, the second course appeared, and James
Kenny was intent upon one thing, and Larry upon another,
so that the wine-sauce for the hare was spilt by their collision; but, what was worse, there seemed little chance
that the whole of this second course should ever be placed
altogether rightly upon the table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared
her throat, and nodded, and pointed, and sighed, and set
Larry after Kenny, and Kenny after Larry; for what one
did, the other undid; and at last the lady's anger kindled,
and she spoke:
"Kenny! James Kenny! set the sea-cale at this corner,
and put down the grass cross-corners; and match your
macaroni yonder with them puddens, set-Ogh! James!
the pyramid in the middle, can't ye?"
The pyramid, in changing places, was overturned. Then
it was that the mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat,
and lifting up her hands and eyes in despair, ejaculated,
"Oh, James! James!"
The pyramid was raised by the assistance of the military
engineers, and stood trembling again on its base; but the
lady's temper could not be so easily restored to its equilibrium.
The comedy of errors, which this day's visit exhibited,
amused all the spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he
had smiled, sometimes sighed.-Similar foibles and follies
in persons of different rank, fortune, and manner, appear
to common observers so unlike, that they laugh without
scruples of conscience in one case, at what in another
ought to touch themselves most nearly. It was the same
desire to appear what they were not, the same vain ambition to vie with superior rank and fortune, or fashion,
which actuated Lady Clonbrony and Mrs. Raffarty; and
'whilst this ridiculous grocer's wife made herself the sport
of some of her guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from the
reflection that what she was to them, his mother was to
persons in a higher rank of fashion.-He sighed still more
deeply, when he considered, that, in whatever station or
with whatever fortune, extravagance, that is the living
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i.w~




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beyond our income, must lead to distress and meanness,
and end in shame and ruin. In the morning, as they were
riding away from Tusculum and talking over their visit,
the officers laughed heartily, and rallying Lord Colambre
upon his seriousness, accused him of having fallen in love
with Mrs. Raffarty, or with the elegant Miss Juliana. Our
hero, who wished never to be nice overmuch, or serious
out of season, laughed with those that laughed, and endeavoured to catch the spirit of the jest. But Sir James
Brooke, who now was well acquainted with his countenance, and who knew something of the history of his family,
understood his real feelings, and, sympathising in them,
endeavoured to give the conversation a new turn.
"Look there, Bowles," said he, as they were just riding
into the town of Bray; "look at the barouche, standing at
that green door, at the farthest end of the town. Is not
that Lady Dashfort's barouche? "
"It looks like what she sported in Dublin last year,"
said Bowles; "but you don't think she'd give us the same
two seasons? Besides, she is not in Ireland, is she? I did
not hear of her intending to come over again."
"I beg your pardon," said another officer; "she will
come again to so good a market, to marry her other
daughter. I hear she said, or swore, that she will marry
the young widow, Lady Isabel, to 2n Irish nobleman."
"(Whatever she says, she swears, and whatever she swears,
she'll do," replied Bowles. "Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart upon you for Lady Isabel, she
has you. Nothing can save you. Heart she has none, so
there you're safe, my lord," said the other officer; "but if
Lady Isabel sets her eye upon you, no basilisk's is surer."
"But if Lady Dashfort had landed I am sure we should
have heard of it, for she makes noise enough wherever she
goes; especially in Dublin, where all she said and did was
echoed and magnified, till one could hear of nothing else.
I don't think she has landed."
"I hope to Heaven they may never land again in Ireland!" cried Sir James Brooke; "one worthless woman,
especially one worthless Englishwoman of rank, does inI00




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calculable mischief in a country like this, which looks up
to the sister country for fashion. For my own part, as a
warm friend to Ireland, I would rather see all the toads
and serpents, and venomous reptiles, that St. Patrick carried off in his bag, come back to this island, than these two
dashers. Why, they would bite half the women and girls
in the kingdom with the rage for mischief, before half the
husbands and fathers could turn their heads about. And,
once bit, there's no cure in nature or art."
"No horses to this barouche!" cried Captain Bowles."Pray, sir, whose carriage is this? " said the captain to a
servant who was standing beside it.
"My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to," answered the
servant, in rather a surly English tone; and turning to a
boy who was lounging at the door-" Pat, bid them bring
out the horses, for my ladies is in a hurry to get home."
Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the
girths of his horse, and to satisfy his curiosity; and the
whole party halted. Captain Bowles beckone~d to the landlord of the inn, who was standing at his door.
"So, Lady Dashfort is here again?-This is her barouche,
is not it? "
"Yes, sir, she is-it is."
"And has she sold her fine horses?"
"Oh no, sir--this is not her carriage at all-she is not
here. That is, she is here, in Ireland; but down in the
county of Wicklow, on a visit. And this is not her own
carriage at all;-that is to say, not that which she has with
herself, driving; but only just the cast barouche like, as
she keeps for the lady's-maids."
"For the lady's-maids! that is good! that is new, faith!
-Sir James, do you hear that? "
"Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!"
said the honest landlord. "And this minute, we've got a
directory of five of them abigails, sitting within in our
house; as fine ladies, as great dashers, too, every bit as
their principals; and kicking up as much dust on the road,
every grain!-Think of them, now! The likes of them,
that must have four horses, and would not stir a foot with
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one less!-As the gentleman's gentleman there was telling
and boasting to me about now, when the barouche was
ordered for them, there at the lady's house, where Lady
Dashfort is on a visit-they said they would not get in till
they'd get four horses; and their ladies backed them; and
so the four horses was got; and they just drove out here,
to see the points of view for fashion's sake, like their betters; and up with their glasses, like their ladies; and then
out with their watches, and 'Isn't it time to lunch?' So
there they have been lunching within on what they brought
with them; for nothing in our house could they touch, of
course! They brought themselves a picknick lunch, with
Madeira and Champagne to wash it down. Why, gentlemen, what do you think, but a set of them, as they were
bragging to me, turned out of a boarding-house at Cheltenham, last year, because they had not peach-pies to their
lunch!-But here they come! shawls, and veils, and all!streamers flying! But mum is my cue!-Captain, are these
girths to your fancy now? " said the landlord, aloud; then,
as he stooped to alter a buckle, he said, in a voice meant to
be heard only by Captain Bowles, "If there's a tongue,
male or female, in the three kingdoms, it's in that foremost
woman, Mrs. Petito."
"Mrs. Petito!" repeated Lord Colambre, as the name
caught his ear; and, approaching the barouche in which
the five abigails were now seated, he saw the identical Mrs.
Petito, who, when he left London, had been in his mother's
service.
She recognised his lordship with very gracious intimacy;
and, before he had time to ask any questions, she answered
all she conceived he was going to ask, and with a volubility
which justified the landlord's eulogium of her tongue.
"Yes, my lord! I left my Lady Clonbrony some time
back-the day after you left town; and both her ladyship
and Miss Nugent was charmingly, and would have sent
their loves to your lordship, I'm sure, if they'd any notion
I should have met you, my lord, so soon. And I was very
sorry to part with them; but the fact was, my lord," said
Mrs. Petito, laying a detaining hand upon Lord Colambre's
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whip, one end of which he unwittingly trusted within her
reach,-"I and my lady had a little difference, which the
best friends, you know, sometimes have; so my Lady
Clonbrony was so condescending to give me up to my
Lady Dashfort-and I knew no more than the child unborn that her ladyship had it in contemplation to cross the
seas. But, to oblige my lady, and as Colonel Heathcock,
with his regiment of militia, was coming for purtection in
the packet at the same time, and we to have the government-yacht, I waived my objections to Ireland. And,
indeed, though I was greatly frighted at first, having heard
all we've heard, you know, my lord, from Lady Clonbrony,
of there being no living in Ireland, and expecting to see no
trees nor accommodation, nor anything but bogs all along;
yet I declare, I was very agreeably surprised; for, as far as
I've seen at Dublin and in the vicinity, the accommodations, and everything of that nature, now is vastly put-upable with.! "-"My lord," said Sir James Brooke, "we shall
be late." Lord Colambre, shortly withdrawing his whip
from Mrs. Petito, turned his horse away. She, stretching
over the back of the barouche as he rode off, bawled to
him"My lord, we're at Stephen's Green, when we're at
Dublin." But as he did not choose to hear, she raised her
voice to its highest pitch, adding"And where are you, my lord, to be found?-as I have
a parcel of Miss Nugent's for you."
Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his
direction.
"Cleverly done, faith!" said the major. "I did not
hear her say when Lady Dashfort is to be in town," said
Captain Bowles.
"What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your
guineas to Lady Dashfort, and to be jockied out of another
horse by Lady Isabel? "
"Oh! confound it-no! I'll keep out of the way of
that-I have had enough," said Captain Bowles; "it is
my Lord Colambre's turn now; you hear that Lady Dashfort would be very proud to see him. His lordship is in
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for it, and with such an auxiliary as Mrs. Petito, Lady
Dashfort has him for Lady Isabel, as sure as he has a heart
or hand."
"My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged," said Lord Colambre; "and my hand shall go with
my heart, or not at all."
"Engaged! engaged to a very amiable, charming woman,
no doubt," said Sir James Brooke. "I have an excellent
opinion of your taste; and if you can return the compliment to my judgment, take my advice: don't trust to
your heart's being engaged, much less plead that engagement; for it would be Lady Dashfort's sport, and Lady
Isabel's joy, to make you break your engagement, and
break your mistress's heart; the fairer, the more amiable,
the more beloved, the greater the triumph, the greater the
delight in giving pain. All the time love would be out of
the question; neither mother nor daughter would care if
you were hanged; or, as Lady Dashfort would herself have
expressed it, if you were d-d."
"With such women, I should think a man's heart could
be in no great danger," said Lord Colambre.
"There you might be mistaken, my lord; there's a way
to every man's heart, which no man in his own case is
aware of, but which every woman knows right well, and
none better than these ladies-by his vanity."
"True," said Captain Bowles.
"I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity,"
said Lord Colambre; "but love, I should imagine, is a
stronger passion than vanity."
"You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord.
Excuse me," said Captain Bowles, laughing.
Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to have nothing to do with these dangerous ladies;
indeed, though he had talked, he had scarcely yet thought
of them; for his imagination was intent upon that packet
from Miss Nugent, which Mrs. Petito said she had for him.
He heard nothing of it, or of her, for some days. He sent
his servant every day to Stephen's Green to inquire if Lady
Dashfort had returned to town. Her ladyship at last re104




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turned; but Mrs. Petito could not deliver the parcel to any
hand but Lord Colambre's own, and she would not stir
out, because her lady was indisposed. No longer able to
restrain his impatience, Lord Colambre went himselfknocked at Lady Dashfort's door-inquired for Mrs. Petito
-was shown into her parlour. The parcel was delivered
to him; but to his utter disappointment, it was a parcel
for, not from Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd
volume of some book of Miss Nugent's which Mrs. Petito
said she had put up along with her things in a mistake, and
she thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity
of a safe conveyance.
Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappointment, was fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent's name,
written by her own hand, in the first leaf of the book, the
door opened, and the figure of an interesting-looking
woman, in deep mourning, appeared-appeared for one
moment, and retired.
"Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing
for hipn from England, my lady-my Lady Isabel, my
lord," said Mrs. Petito. Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying
this, the entrance and retreat had been made, and made
with such dignity, grace, and modesty; with such innocence, dove-like eyes had been raised upon him, fixed and
withdrawn; with such a gracious bend the Lady Isabel had
bowed to him as she retired; with such a smile, and with
so soft a voice, had repeated "Lord Colambre!" that his
lordship, though well aware that all this was mere acting,
could not help saying to himself as he left the house:
"It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly something very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an
actress. And so young! A much younger woman than
I expected. A widow before most women are wives. So
young, surely she cannot be such a fiend as they described
her to be!  A few nights afterwards Lord Colambre was
with some of his acquaintance at the theatre, when Lady
Isabel and her mother came into the box, where seats had
been reserved for them, and where their appearance instantly made that sensation which is usually created by the
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entrance of persons of the first notoriety in the fashionable
world. Lord Colambre was not a man to be dazzled by
fashion, or to mistake notoriety for deference paid to merit,
and for the admiration commanded by beauty or talents.
Lady Dashfort's coarse person, loud voice, daring manners,
and indelicate wit, disgusted him almost past endurance.
He saw Sir James Brooke in the box opposite to him; and
twice determined to go round to him. His lordship had
crossed the benches, and once his hand was upon the lock
of the door; but attracted as much by the daughter as repelled by the mother, he could move no farther. The
mother's masculine boldness heightened, by contrast, the
charms of the daughter's soft sentimentality. The Lady
Isabel seemed to shrink from the indelicacy of her mother's
manners, and seemed peculiarl. distressed by the strange
efforts Lady Dashfort made, fromin time to time, to drag
her forward, and to fix upon her the attention of gentlemen. Colonel Heathcock, who, as Mrs. Petito had informed Lord Colambre, had come over with his regiment
to Ireland, was beckoned into their box by Lady Dashfort,
by her squeezed into a seat next to Lady Isabel; but Lady
Isabel seemed to feel sovereign contempt, properly repressed by politeness, for what, in a low whisper to a
female friend on the other side of her, she called, "the
self-sufficient inanity of this sad coxcomb." Other coxcombs, of a more vivacious style, who stationed themselves
round her mother, or to whom her mother stretched from
box to box to talk, seemed to engage no more of Lady
Isabel's attention than just what she was compelled to give
by Lady Dashfort's repeated calls of"Isabel! Isabel! Colonel G     Isabel! Lord D
bowing to you. Belle! Belle! Sir Harry B- Isabel,
child, with your eyes on the stage? Did you never see a
play before? Novice! Major P-- waiting to catch your
eye this quarter of an hour; and now her eyes gone down
to her play-bill! Sir Harry, do take it from her.
" Were eyes so radiant only made to read? "
Lady Isabel appeared to suffer so exquisitely and so
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naturally from this persecution, that Lord Colambre said
to himself
"If this be acting, it is the best acting I ever saw. If
this be art, it deserves to be nature."
And with this sentiment he did himself the honour of
handing Lady Isabel to her carriage this night, and with
this sentiment he awoke next morning; and by the time he
had dressed and breakfasted he determined that it was impossible all that he had seen could be acting. "No woman,
no young woman, could have such art. Sir James Brooke
had been unwarrantably severe; he would go and tell him
SO.
But Sir James Brooke this day received orders for his
regiment to march to quarters in a distant part of Ireland.
His head was full of arms, and ammunition, and knapsacks,
and billets, and routes; and there was no possibility, even
in the present chivalrous disposition of our hero, to enter
upon the defence of the Lady Isabel. Indeed, in the regret he felt for the approaching and unexpected departure
of his friend, Lord Colambre forgot the fair lady. But just
when Sir James had his foot in the stirrup, he stopped.
"By the bye, my dear lord, I saw you at the play last
night. You seemed to be much interested. Don't think
me impertinent, if I remind you of our conversation when
we were riding home from Tusculum; and if I warn you,"
said he, mounting his horse, "to beware of counterfeitsfor such are abroad." Reining in his impatient steed, Sir
James turned again and added, "Deeds not words, is my
motto. Remember, we can judge better by the conduct
of people towards others than by their manner towards
ourselves.
CHAPTER VII.
OUR hero was quite convinced of the good sense of his
friend's last remark, that it is safer to judge of people
by their conduct to others than by their manners towards ourselves; but as yet, he felt scarcely any interest on
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the subject of Lady Dashfort's or Lady Isabel's characters;
however, he inquired and listened to all the evidence he
could obtain respecting this mother and daughter.
He heard terrible reports of the mischief they had done
in families; the extravagance into which they had led men;
the imprudence, to say no worse, into which they had betrayed women. Matches broken off, reputations ruined,
husbands alienated from their wives, and wives made jealous of their husbands. But in some of these stories he
discovered exaggeration so flagrant as to make him doubt
the whole; in others, it could not be positively determined
whether the mother or daughter had been the person most
to blame.
Lord Colambre always followed the charitable rule of
believing only half what the world says, and here he thought
it fair to believe which half he pleased. He further observed, that, though all joined in abusing these ladies in
their absence, when present they seemed universally admired. Though everybody cried "shame!" and "shocking! " yet everybody visited them. No parties so crowded
as Lady Dashfort's; no party deemed pleasant or fashionable where Lady Dashfort or Lady Isabel was not. The
bon-mots of the mother were everywhere repeated; the
dress and air of the daughter everywhere imitated. Yet
Lord Colambre could not help being surprised at their
popularity in Dublin, because, independently of all moral
objections, there were causes of a different sort, sufficient,
he thought, to prevent Lady Dashfort from being liked by
the Irish; indeed by any society. She in general affected
to be ill-bred, and inattentive to the feelings and opinions
of others; careless whom she offended by her wit or by
her decided tone. There are some persons in so high a
region of fashion, that they imagine themselves above the
thunder of vulgar censure. Lady Dashfort felt herself in
this exalted situation, and fancied she might "hear the innocuous thunder roll below." Her rank was so high that
none could dare to call her vulgar; what would have been
gross in any one of meaner note, in her was freedom, or
originality, or Lady Dashfort's way. It was Lady Dashio8




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fort's pleasure and pride to show her power in perverting
the public taste. She often said to those English companions with whom she was intimate, "Now see what follies
I can lead these fools into. Hear the nonsense I can make
them repeat as wit." Upon some occasion, one of her
friends ventured to fear that something she had said was
too stroncg. "Too strong, was it? Well, I like to be strong
--woe be to the weak."  On another occasion she was told
that certain visitors had seen her ladyship yawning.
"Yawn, did I?--glad of it-the yawn sent them away, or
I should have snored;-rude, was I? they won't complain.
To say I was rude to them would be to say, that I did not
think it worth my while to be otherwise. Barbarians! are
not we the civilised English, come to teach them manners
and fashions? Whoever does not conform, and swear
allegiance too, we shall keep out of the English pale."
Lady Dashfort forced her way, and she set the fashion:
fashion, which converts the ugliest dress into what is beautiful and charming, governs the public mode in morals and
in manners; and thus, when great talents and high rank.i
combine, they can debase or elevate the public taste.
With Lord Colambre she played more artfully; she drew
him out in defence of his beloved country, and gave him
opportunities of appearing to advantage; this he could not
help feeling, especially when the Lady Isabel was present.
Lady Dashfort had dealt long enough with human nature
to know, that to make any man pleased with her, she
should begin by making him pleased with himself.
Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally felt to Lady Dashfort wore off; her faults, he began
to think, were assumed; he pardoned her defiance of good
breeding, when he observed that she could, when she chose
it, be most engagingly polite. It was not that she did not
know what was right, but that she did not think it always
for her interest to practise it.
The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her
wit depended merely on unexpectedness; a characteristic
which may be applied to any impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct. In some of her ladyship's repartees,
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however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was
more than unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was
of a sort utterly unfit for a woman, and he was sorry that
Lady Isabel should hear it. In short, exceptionable as it
was altogether, Lady Dashfort's conversation had become
entertaining to him; and though he could never esteem or
feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow that
she could be agreeable.
"Ay, I knew how it would be," said she, when some of
her friends told her this. " He began by detesting me, and
did I not tell you that, if I thought it worth my while to
make him like me, he must, sooner or later? I delight in
seeing people begin with me as they do with olives, making
all manner of horrid faces and silly protestations that they
will never touch an olive again as long as they live; but,
after a little time, these very folk grow so desperately fond
of olives, that there is no dessert without them. Isabel,
child, you are in the sweet line-but sweets cloy. You
never heard of anybody living on marmalade, did ye?"Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.-"'To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well," pursued the
mother; "but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up the spirit and bustle, and carry on the
plot of the piece; and I am that somebody-as you shall
see. Is not that our hero's voice, which I hear on the
stairs? "
It was Lord Colambre. His lordship had by this time
become a constant visitor at Lady Dashfort's. Not that
he had forgotten, or that he meant to disregard his friend
Sir James Brooke's parting words. He promised himself
faithfully, that if anything should occur to give him reason
to suspect designs, such as those to which the warning
pointed, he would be on his guard, and would prove his
generalship by an able retreat. But to imagine attacks
where none were attempted, to suspect ambuscades in the
open country, would be ridiculous and cowardly.
"No,"' thought our hero; "Heaven forfend I should be
such a coxcomb as to fancy every woman who speaks to
me has designs upon my precious heart, or on my more
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precious estate! " As he walked from his hotel to Lady
Dashfort's house, ingeniously wrong, he came to this conclusion, just as he ascended the stairs, and just as her
ladyship had settled her future plan of operations.
After talking over the nothings of the day, and after
having given two or three cuts at the society of Dublin,
with two or three compliments to individuals, who, she
knew, were favourites with his lordship, she suddenly
turned to him"My lord, I think you told me, or my own sagacity discovered, that you want to see something of Ireland, and
that you don't intend, like most travellers, to turn round,
see nothing, and go home content."
Lord Colambre assured her ladyship that she had judged
him rightly, for, that nothing would content him but seeing all that was possible to be seen of his native country.
It was for this special purpose he came to Ireland.
"Ah!-well-very good purpose-can't be better; but
now, how to accomplish it. You know the Portuguese
proverb says, 'You go to hell for the good things you intend to do, and to heaven for those you do.' Now let us
see what you will do. Dublin, I suppose, you've seen
enough of by this time; through and through-round and
round-this makes me first giddy and then sick. Let me
show you the country-not the face of it, but the body of
it-the people. Not Castle this, or Newtown that, but
their inhabitants. I know them; I have the key, or the
picklock to their minds. An Irishman is as different an
animal on his guard, and off his guard, as a miss in school
from a miss out of school. A fine country for game, I'll
show you; and, if you are a good marksman, you may
have plenty of shots 'at folly as it flies.' "
Lord Colambre smiled. "As to Isabel," pursued her
ladyship, "I shall put her in charge of Heathcock, who is
going with us. She won't thank me for that, but you will.
Nay, no fibs, man; you know, I know, as who does not
that has seen the world, that though a pretty woman is a
mighty pretty thing, yet she is confoundedly in one's way,
when anything else is to be seen, heard-or understood."
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Every objection anticipated and removed, and so far a
prospect held out of attaining all the information he desired, with more than all the amusement he could have
expected, Lord Colambre seemed much tempted to accept
the invitation; but he hesitated, because, as he said, her
ladyship might be going to pay visits where he was not
acquainted.
"Bless you! don't let that be a stumbling-block in the
way of your tender conscience. I am going to Killpatrickstown, where you'll be as welcome as light. You know
them, they know you; at least you shall have a proper
letter of invitation from my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick,
and all that. And as to the rest, you know a young man
is always welcome everywhere, a young nobleman kindly
welcome,-I won't say such a young man, and such a
young nobleman, for that might put you to your bows or
your blushes-but nobilitas by itself, nobility is enough in
all parties, in all families, where there are girls, and of
course balls, as there are always at Killpatrickstown. Don't
be alarmed; you shall not be forced to dance, or asked to
marry. I'll be your security. You shall be at full liberty;
and it is a house where you can do just what you will.
Indeed, I go to no others. These Killpatricks are the
best creatures in the world; they think nothing good or
grand enough for me. If I'd let them, they would lay
down cloth of gold over their bogs for me to walk upon.Good-hearted beings! " added Lady Dashfort, marking a
cloud gathering on Lord Colambre's countenance. "I
laugh at them, because I love them. I could not love
anything I might not laugh at-your lordship excepted.
So you'll come-that's settled."
And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatrickstown.
"Everything here sumptuous and unfinished, you see,"
said Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre, the day after their
arrival. "All begun as if the projectors thought they had
the command of the mines of Peru, and ended as if the
possessors had not sixpence; des arrangemensprovisatoires,
temporary expedients; in plain English, make-shifts.
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Luxuries, enough for an English prince of the blood;
comforts, not enough for an English woman. And you
may be sure that great repairs and alterations have gone
on to fit this house for our reception, and for our English
eyes!-Poor people!-English visitors, in this point of
view, are horribly expensive to the Irish. Did you ever
hear that, in the last century, or in the century before the
last, to put my story far enough back, so that it shall not
touch anybody living; when a certain English nobleman,
Lord Blank A--, sent to let his Irish friend, Lord Blank
B-, know that he and all his train were coming over to
pay him a visit; the Irish nobleman, Blank B -, knowing the deplorable condition of his castle, sat down fairly
to calculate whether it would cost him most to put the building in good and sufficient repair, fit to receive these English
visitors, or to burn it to the ground. He found the balance to be in favour of burning, which was wisely accomplished next day.' Perhaps Killpatrick would have done
well to follow this example. Resolve me which is worst,
to be burnt out of house and home, or to be eaten out of
house and home. In this house, above and below stairs,
including first and second table, housekeeper's room, lady'smaids' room, butler's room, and gentleman's, one hundred
and four people sit down to dinner every day, as Petito
informs me, beside kitchen boys, and what they call charwomen-who never sit down, but who do not eat or waste
the less for that; and retainers and friends, friends to the
fifth and sixth generation, who 'must get their bit and
their sup'; for, 'sure, it's only Biddy,' they say," continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish brogue. " 'And,
'sure, 'tis nothing at all, out of all his honour, my lord,
has. How could he feel it!'-Long life to him!-He's not
that way: not a couple in all Ireland, and that's saying a
great dale, looks less after their own, nor is more offhandeder, or open-hearteder, or greater open-house-keepers, nor" my Lord and my Lady Killpatrick.' Now there's
encouragement for a lord and a lady to ruin themselves."
Lady Dashfort imitated the Irish brogue in perfection;
I Fact!  2 Feel it: become sensible of it, know it.  3 Nor: than.


8


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boasted that "she was mistress of fourteen different
brogues, and had brogues for all occasions." By her mixture of mimicry, sarcasm, exaggeration, and truth, she
succeeded continually in making Lord Colambre laugh at
everything at which she wished to make him laugh; at
every thing, but not every body; whenever she became
personal, he became serious, or at least endeavoured to
become serious; and if he could not instantly resume the
command of his risible muscles, he reproached himself.
"It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady
Dashfort, in their own house-these hospitable people,
who are entertaining us."
"Entertaining us! true, and if we are entertained, how
can we help laughing? "
All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was
her pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feelings and principles. This he saw, and this seemed
to him to be her sole object; but there he was mistaken.
Off-handed as she pretended to be, none dealt more in the
impromptu fait a loisir; and mentally short-sighted as she
affected to be, none had more longanimity for their own
interest.
It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland
ridiculous and contemptible to Lord Colambre; to disgust
him with his native country; to make him abandon the
wish of residing on his own estate. To confirm him an
absentee was her object previously to her ultimate plan
of marrying him to her daughter. Her daughter was poor,
she would therefore be glad to get an Irish peer for her;
but would be very sorry, she said, to see Isabel banished to
Ireland; and the young widow declared she could never
bring herself to be buried alive in Clonbrony Castle.
In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received certain hints from Mrs. Petito, which worked all to
the same point.
"Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that
when I was at Lady Clonbrony's," said Petito, one day, as
she was attending at her lady's toilette, and encouraged to
begin chattering. "And I own I was originally under the
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universal error, that my Lord Colambre was to be married
to the great heiress, Miss Broadhurst; but I have been
converted and reformed on that score, and am at present
quite in another way and style of thinking."
Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask, what
was her present way of thinking? But Lady Dashfort,
certain that she would tell her without being asked, did
not take the trouble to speak, particularly as she did not
choose to appear violently interested on the subject."My present way of thinking," resumed Petito, "is in
consequence of my having, with my own eyes and ears, witnessed and overheard his lordship's behaviour and words,
the morning he was coming away from Luniun for Ireland;
when he was morally certain nobody was up, nor overhearing, nor overseeing him, there did I notice him, my
lady, stopping in the antechamber, ejaculating over one of
Miss Nugent's gloves, which he had picked up. 'Limerick!' said he, quite loud to himself; for it was a Limerick
glove, my lady,-' Limerick!-dear Ireland! she loves you
as well as I do! '-or words to that effect;. and then a sigh,
and downstairs and off. So, thinks I, now the cat's out of
the bag. And I wouldn't give much myself for Miss
Broadhurst's chance of that young lord, with all her bank
stock, scrip, and omnum. Now, I see how the land lies,
and I'm sorry for it; for she's no fortin; and she's so
proud, she never said a hint to me of the matter; but my
Lord Colambre is a sweet gentleman; and--''
"Petito! don't run on so; you must not meddle with
what you don't understand: the Miss Killpatricks, to be
sure, are sweet girls, particularly the youngest."-Her
ladyship's toilette was finished; and she left Petito to go
down to my Lady Killpatrick's woman, to tell, as a very
great secret, the schemes that were in contemplation among
the higher powers, in favour of the youngest of the Miss
Killpatricks.
"So Ireland is at the bottom of his heart, is it? " repeated Lady Dashfort to herself; "it shall not be long so."''
From this time forward, not a day, scarcely an hour passed,
but her ladyship did or said something to depreciate the
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country, or its inhabitants, in our hero's estimation. With
treacherous ability, she knew and followed all the arts of
misrepresentation; all those injurious arts which his friend,
Sir James Brooke, had, with such honest indignation, reprobated. She knew how, not only to seize the ridiculous
points, to make the most respectable people ridiculous, but
she knew how to select the worst instances, the worst exceptions; and to produce them as examples, as precedents,
from which to condemn whole classes, and establish general
false conclusions respecting a nation.
In the neighbourhood of Killpatrickstown, Lady Dashfort said, there were several squireens, or little squires; a
race of men who have succeeded to the buckeens, described
by Young and Crumpe. Squireens are persons who, with
good long leases, or valuable farms, possess incomes
from three to eight hundred a year; who keep a pack of
hounds; take out a commission of the peace, sometimes
before they can spell (as her ladyship said), and almost
always before they know anything of law or justice! Busy
and loud about small matters; jobbers at assizes,; combining with one another, and trying upon every occasion,
public or private, to push themselves forward, to the annoyance of their superiors, and the terror of those below them.
In the usual course of things, these men are not often to
be found in the society of gentry; except, perhaps, among
those gentlemen or noblemen who like to see hangers-on
at their tables; or who find it for their convenience to have
underling magistrates, to protect their favourites, or to
propose and carry jobs for them on grand juries. At election times, however, these persons rise into sudden importance with all who have views upcn the county. Lady
Dashfort hinted to Lord Killpatrick, that her private letters
from England spoke of an approaching dissolution of Parliament; she knew that, upon this hint, a round of invitations would be sent to the squireens; and she was morally
certain that they would be more disagreeable to Lord
Colambre, and give him a worse idea of the country, than
any other people who could be produced. Day after day
some of these personages made their appearance; and Lady




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Dashfort took care to draw them out upon the subjects on
which she knew that they would show the most self-sufficient ignorance, and the most illiberal spirit. This succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations. "''Lord
Colambre! how I pity you, for being compelled to these
permanent sittings after dinner! " said Lady Isabel to him
one night, when he came late to the ladies from the diningroom. "Lord Killpatrick insisted upon my staying to
help him to push about that never-ending, still-beginning
electioneering bottle," said Lord Colambre. "Oh! if that
were all; if these gentlemen would only drink;-but their
conversation! I don't wonder my mother dreads returning
to Clonbrony Castle, if my father must have such company
as this. But, surely, it cannot be necessary."
"Oh, indispensable! positively indispensable!" cried
Lady Dashfort; "no living in Ireland without it. You
know, in every country in the world, you must live with
the people of the country, or be torn to pieces; for my
part, I should prefer being torn to pieces."
Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel knew how to take advantage of the contrast between their own conversation,
and that of the persons by whom Lord Colambre was so
justly disgusted; they happily relieved his fatigue with wit,
satire, poetry, and sentiment; so that he every day became
more exclusively fond of their company; for Lady Killpatrick and the Miss Killpatricks were mere commonplace
people. In the mornings, he rode or walked with Lady
Dashfort and Lady Isabel: Lady Dashfort, by way of fulfilling her promise of showing him the people, used frequently to take him into the cabins, and talk to their
inhabitants. Lord and Lady Killpatrick, who had lived
always for the fashionable world, had taken little pains to
improve the condition of their tenants; the few attempts
they had made were injudicious. They had built ornamented, picturesque cottages,within view of their demesne;
and favourite followers of the family, people with half a
century's habit of indolence and dirt, were promoted to
these fine dwellings.  The consequences were such as
Lady Dashfort delighted to point out; everything let to
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go to ruin for the want of a moment's care, or pulled to
pieces for the sake of the most trifling surreptitious profit;
the people most assisted always appearing proportionally
wretched and discontented. No one could, with more
ease and more knowledge of her ground, than Lady Dashfort, do the dishonour of a country. In every cabin that
she entered, by the first glance of her eye at the head,
kerchiefed in no comely guise, or by the drawn-down corners
of the mouth, or by the bit of a broken pipe, which in Ireland never characterises stout labour, or by the first sound
of the voice, the drawling accent on "your honour," or,
"my lady," she could distinguish the proper objects of her
charitable designs, that is to say, those of the old uneducated race, whom no one can help, because they will never
help themselves. To these she constantly addressed her.
self, making them give, in all their despairing tones, a
history of their complaints and grievances; then asking
them questions, aptly contrived to expose their habits of
self-contradiction, their servility and flattery one moment,
and their litigious and encroaching spirit the next: thus
giving Lord Colambre the most unfavourable idea of the
disposition and character of the lower class of the Irish
people.
Lady Isabel the while stood by, with the most amiable
air of pity, with expressions of the finest moral sensibility, softening all her mother said, finding ever some
excuse for the poor creatures, and following with angelic
sweetness to heal the wounds her mother inflicted.
When Lady Dashfort thought she had sufficiently worked
upon Lord Colambre's mind to weaken his enthusiasm for
his native country, and when Lady Isabel had, by the appearance of every virtue, added to a delicate preference, if
not partiality, for our hero, ingratiated herself into his good
opinion and obtained an interest in his mind, the wily
mother ventured an attack of a more decisive nature; and
so contrived it was, that, if it failed, it should appear to
have been made without design to injure, and in total
ignorance.
One day, Lady Dashfort, who in fact was not proud of
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her family, though she pretended to be so, had herself prevailed on, though with much difficulty, by Lady Killpatrick, to do the very thing she wanted to do, to show
her genealogy, which had been beautifully blazoned, and
which was to be produced as evidence in the lawsuit that
brought her to Ireland. Lord Colambre stood politely
looking on and listening, while her ladyship explained the
splendid inter-marriages of her family, pointing to each
medallion that was filled gloriously with noble, and even
with royal names, till at last she stopped short, and covering one medallion with her finger, she said"Pass over that, dear Lady Killpatrick. You are not to
see that, Lord Colambre-that's a little blot in our scutcheon. You know, Isabel, we never talk of that prudent
match of great-uncle John's; what could he expect by
marrying into that family, where you know all the men
were not sans peur, and none of the women sans reproche."
"Oh mamma! " cried Lady Isabel, "not one exception?"
"Not one, Isabel," persisted Lady Dashfort; "there was
Lady -, and the other sister, that married the man with
the long nose; and the daughter again, of whom they contrived to make an honest woman, by getting her married in
time to a blue-ribband, and who contrived to get herself
into Doctors' Commons the very next year."
"Well, dear mamma, that is enough, and too much.
Oh! pray don't go on," cried Lady Isabel, who had appeared very much distressed during her mother's speech.
"You don't know what you are saying; indeed, ma'am,
you don't."
"Very likely, child; but that compliment I can return
to you on the spot, and with interest; for you seem to me,
at this instant, not to know either what you are saying or
what you are doing. Come, come, explain."
"Oh no, ma'am-Pray say so no more; I will explain
myself another time."
"Nay, there you are wrong, Isabel; in point of goodbreeding, anything is better than hints and mystery.
Since I have been so unlucky as to touch upon the subject, better go through with it, and, with all the boldness
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of innocence, ask the question, Are you, my Lord Colambre, or are you not, related or connected with any of the
St. Omars?"
"Not that I know of," said Lord Colambre; "but I
really am so bad a genealogist, that I cannot answer
positively."
"Then I must put the substance of my question into a
new form. Have you, or have you not, a cousin of the
name of Nugent?"
"Miss Nugent! -Grace Nugent!- Yes," said Lord
Colambre, with as much firmness of voice as he could command, and with as little change of countenance as possible;
but, as the question came upon him so unexpectedly, it
was not in his power to answer with an air of absolute
indifference and composure.
"And her mother was-   " said Lady Dashfort.
"My aunt, by marriage; her maiden name was Reynolds, I think. But she died when I was quite a child.
I know very little about her. I never saw her in my life;
but I am certain she was a Reynolds."
"Oh, my dear lord," continued Lady Dashfort; "I am
perfectly aware that she did take and bear the name of
Reynolds; but that was not her maiden name-her maiden
name was-; but perhaps it is a family secret that has
been kept, for some good reason, from you, and from the
poor girl herself; the maiden name was St. Omar, depend
upon it. Nay, I would not have told this to you, my lord,
if I could have conceived that it would affect you so violently," pursued Lady Dashfort, in a tone of raillery;
"you see you are no worse off than we are. We have an
intermarriage with the St. Omars. I did not think you
would be so much shocked at a discovery, which proves
that our family and yours have some little connexion."
Lord Colambre endeavoured to answer, and mechanically
said something about, "happy to have the honour." Lady
Dashfort, truly happy to see that her blow had hit the
mark so well, turned from his lordship without seeming to
observe how seriously he was affected; and Lady Isabel
sighed, and looked with compassion on Lord Colambre,
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and then reproachfully at her mother. But Lord Colambre heeded not her looks, and heard not her sighs; he
heard nothing, saw nothing, though his eyes were intently
fixed on the genealogy, on which Lady Dashfort was still
descanting to Lady Killpatrick. He took the first opportunity he could of quitting the room, and went out to take
a solitary walk.
"There he is, departed, but not in peace, to reflect upon
what has been said," whispered Lady Dashfort to her
daughter. "I hope it will do him a vast deal of good."
"None of the women sans reproche! None!-without
one exception," said Lord Colambre to himself; "and
Grace Nugent's mother a St. Omar!-Is it possible? Lady
Dashfort seems certain. She could not assert a positive
falsehood-no motive. She does not know that Miss Nugent is the person to whom I am attached-she spoke at
random. And I have heard it first from a stranger-not
from my mother. Why was it kept secret from me? Now
I understand the reason why my mother evidently never
wished that I should think of Miss Nugent-why she
always spoke so vehemently against the marriages of relations, of cousins. Why not tell me the truth? It would
have had the strongest effect, had she known my mind."
Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any
woman whose mother had conducted herself ill.   His
reason, his prejudices, his pride, his delicacy, and even his
limited experience, were all against it. All his hopes, his
plans of future happiness, were shaken to their very foundation; he felt as if he had received a blow that stunned his
mind, and from which he could not recover his faculties.
The whole of that day he was like one in a dream. At
night the painful idea continually recurred to him; and
whenever he was falling asleep, the sound of Lady Dashfort's voice returned upon his ear, saying the words,
"What could he expect when he married one of the St.
Omars? None of the women sans reproche."
In the morning he rose early; and the first thing he did
was to write a letter to his mother, requesting (unless there
was some important reason for her declining to answer the
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question) that she would immediately relieve his mind from
a great uneasiness (he altered the word four times, but at
last left it uneasiness). He stated what he had heard, and
besought his mother to tell him the whole truth, without
reserve.
CHAPTER VIII.
ONE morning Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious
scheme for leaving Lady Isabel and Lord Colambre
t    bte-a-tte,; but the sudden entrance of Heathcock
disconcerted her intentions. He came to beg Lady Dashfort's interest with Count O'Halloran, for permission to
hunt and shoot on his grounds.-"Not for myself, 'pon
honour, but for two officers who are quartered at the next
town here, who will indubitably hang or drown themselves
if they are debarred from sporting."
"Who is this Count O'Halloran? " said Lord Colambre.
Miss White, Lady Killpatrick's companion, said "he was
a great oddity "; Lady Dashfort, "that he was singular ";
and the clergyman of the parish, who was at breakfast,
declared "that he was a man of uncommon knowledge,
merit, and politeness."
"All I know of him," said Heathcock, "is, that he is a
great sportsman, with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and
long skirts to a laced waistcoat." Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary personage; and
Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and, perhaps,
thinking absence might be as effectual as too much propinquity, immediately offered to call upon the officers in their
way, and carry them with Heathcock and Lord Colambre
to Halloran Castle.
Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with
becoming grace; and Captain Benson and Captain Williamson were taken to the count's. Captain Benson, who was
a famous whip, took his seat on the box of the barouche,
and the rest of the party had the pleasure of her ladyship's
conversation for three or four miles: of her ladyship's conversation-for Lord Colambre's thoughts were far distant;
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Captain Williamson had not anything to say; and Heathcock nothing but, "Eh! re'lly now!-'pon honour!"'
They arrived at Halloran Castle-a fine old building,
part of it in ruins, and part repaired with great judgment
and taste. When the carriage stopped, a respectablelooking man-servant appeared on the steps, at the open
hall-door.
Count O'Halloran was out a-hunting; but his servant
said "that he would be at home immediately, if Lady
Dashfort and the gentlemen would be pleased to walk in."
On one side of the lofty and spacious hall stood the
skeleton of an elk; on the other side, the perfect skeleton
of a moose-deer, which, as the servant said, his master had
made out, with great care, from the different bones of
many of this curious species of deer, found in the lakes in
the neighbourhood. The brace of officers witnessed their
wonder with sundry strange oaths and exclamations."Eh! 'pon honour-re'lly now!" said Heathcock; and,
too genteel to wonder at or admire anything in the creation,
dragged out his watch with some difficulty, saying, "I
wonder now whether they are likely to think of giving us
anything to eat in this place?" And, turning his back
upon the moose-deer, he straight walked out again upon
the steps, called to his groom, and began to make some
inquiry about his led horse. Lord Colambre surveyed the
prodigious skeletons with rational curiosity, and with that
sense of awe and admiration, by which a superior mind is
always struck on beholding any of the great works of
Providence.
"Come, my dear lord!" said Lady Dashfort; "with our
sublime sensations, we are keeping my old friend, Mr.
Alick Brady, this venerable person, waiting, to show us
into the reception-room."
The servant bowed respectfully-more respectfully than
servants of modern date.
"My lady, the reception-room has been lately paintedthe smell of paint may be disagreeable; with your leave, I
will take the liberty of showing you into my master's
study."
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lie opened the door, went in before her, and stood holding up his finger, as if making a signal of silence to some
one within. Her ladyship entered, and found herself in
the midst of an odd assembly: an eagle, a goat, a dog, an
otter, several gold and silver fish in a glass globe, and a
white mouse in a cage. The eagle, quick of eye but quiet
of demeanour, was perched upon his stand; the otter lay
under the table, perfectly harmless; the Angora goat, a
beautiful and remarkably little creature of its kind, with
long, curling, silky hair, was walking about the room with
the air of a beauty and a favourite; the dog, a tall Irish
greyhound-one of the few of that fine race which is now
almost extinct-had been given to Count O'Halloran by
an Irish nobleman, a relation of Lady Dashfort's. This
dog, who had formerly known her ladyship, looked at her
with ears erect, recognised her, and went to meet her the
moment she entered. The servant answered for the peaceable behaviour of all the rest of the company of animals,
and retired. Lady Dashfort began to feed the eagle from
a silver plate on his stand; Lord Colambre examined the
inscription on his collar; the other men stood in amaze.
Heathcock, who came in last, astonished out of his constant "Eh! re'lly now! " the moment he put himself in at
the door, exclaimed, "Zounds! what's all this live lumber?" and he stumbled over the goat, who was at that
moment crossing the way. The colonel's spur caught in
the goat's curly beard; the colonel shook his foot, and
entangled the spur worse and worse; the goat struggled
and butted; the colonel skated forward on the polished
oak floor, balancing himself with outstretched arms.
The indignant eagle screamed, and, passing by, perched
on Heathcock's shoulders. Too well-bred to have recourse
to the terrors of his beak, he scrupled not to scream, and
flap his wings about the colonel's ears. Lady Dashfort,
the while, threw herself back in her chair, laughing, and
begging Heathcock's pardon. "Oh, take care of the dog,
my dear colonel! " cried she; "for this kind of dog seizes
his enemy by the back, and shakes him to death."  The
officers, holding their sides, laughed, and begged-no par124




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don; while Lord Colambre, the only person who was not
absolutely incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur, and
to liberate the colonel from the goat, and the goat from
the colonel; an attempt in which he at last succeeded, at
the expense of a considerable portion of the goat's beard.
The eagle, however, still kept his place; and, yet mindful
of the wrongs of his insulted friend the goat, had stretched
his wings to give another buffet. Count O'Halloran entered; and the bird, quitting his prey, flew down to greet
his master. The count was a fine old military-looking
gentleman, fresh from the chace: his hunting accoutrements hanging carelessly about him, he advanced, unembarrassed, to the lady; and received his other guests with
a mixture of military ease and gentleman-like dignity.
Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation in which he had found poor Heathcock, he apologised
in general for his troublesome favourites. "For one of
them," said he, patting the head of the dog, which lay
quiet at Lady Dashfort's feet, "J see I have no need to
apologise; he is where he ought to be. Poor fellow! he
has never lost his taste for the good company to which he
was early accustomed. As to the rest," said he, turning
to Lady Dashfort, "a mouse, a bird, and a fish, are, you
know, tribute from earth, air, and water, for my conqueror
"But from no barbarous Scythian! " said Lord Colambre, smiling. The count looked at Lord Colambre, as at
a person worthy his attention; but his first care was to
keep the peace between his loving subjects and his foreign
visitors. It was difficult to dislodge the old settlers, to
make room for the newcomers; but he adjusted these
things with admirable facility; and, with a master's hand
and master's eye, compelled each favourite to retreat into
the back settlements. With becoming attention, he stroked
and kept quiet old Victory, his eagle, who eyed Colonel
Heathcock still, as if he did not like him; and whom the
colonel eyed, as if he wished his neck fairly wrung off.
The little goat had nestled himself close up to his liberator,
Lord Colambre, and lay perfectly quiet, with his eyes
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closed, going very wisely to sleep, and submitting philosophically to the loss of one half of his beard. Conversation
now commenced, and was carried on by Count O'Halloran
with much ability and spirit, and with such quickness of
discrimination and delicacy of taste, as quite surprised and
delighted our hero. To the lady, the count's attention
was first directed: he listened to her as she spoke, bending
with an air of deference and devotion. She made her
request for permission for Major Benson and Captain Williamson to hunt and shoot in his grounds; this was instantly
granted.
"Her ladyship's requests were to him commands," the
count said. "His gamekeeper should be instructed to give
the gentlemen, her friends, every liberty, and all possible
assistance. "
Then turning to the officers, he said he had just heard
that several regiments of English militia had lately landed
in Ireland; that one regiment was arrived at Killpatrickstown. He rejoiced in the advantages Ireland, and he hoped
he might be permitted to add, England, would probably
derive from the exchange of the militia of both countries;
habits would be improved, ideas enlarged. The two countries have the same interest; and, from the inhabitants
discovering more of each other's good qualities, and interchanging little good offices in common life, their esteem
and affection for each other would increase, and rest upon
the firm basis of mutual utility."
To all this Major Benson and Captain Williamson made
no reply.
"The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw," whispered Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre; "and the captain
so like the knave of clubs, putting forth one manly leg."
Count O'Halloran now turned the conversation to field
sports, and then the captain and major opened at once.
"Pray now, sir? " said the major, "you fox-hunt in this
country, I suppose; and now do you manage the thing
here as we do? Over night, you know, before the hunt,
when the fox is out, stopping up the earths of the cover we
mean to draw, and all the rest for four miles round. Next
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morning we assemble at the cover's side, and the huntsman
throws in the hounds. The gossip here is no small part of
the entertainment; but as soon as we hear the hounds give
tongue-   "
"Tlie favourite hounds," interposed Williamson.
",The favourite hounds, to be sure," continued Benson;
"there is a dead silence, till pug is well out of cover, and
the whole pack well in; then cheer the hounds with tallyho! till your lungs crack. Away he goes in gallant style,
and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes a stiff country;
then they who haven't pluck lag, see no more of him, and,
with a fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the
death."
"Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope," said Lady
Dashfort; "I was thrown out sadly at one time in the
chace. '
Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a
book in which the count's pencil lay, Pasley on the Military
Policy of Great Britainz, it was marked with many notes of
admiration, and with hands pointing to remarkable passages.
"That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the
mind," said the count.
Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning with, "All that distinguishes a soldier in outward
appearance from a citizen is so trifling-- " but at this
instant our hero's attention was distracted by seeing in a
black-letter book this title of a chapter:
"Burial-place of the Nugents."
"Pray now, sir," said Captain Williamson, "if I don't
interrupt you, as you are such a famous fox-hunter,
maybe, you may be a fisherman too; and now in Ireland
do you, Mr.-"
A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood
behind him, stopped the captain short, as he pronounced
the word Mr. Like all awkward people, he turned directly
to ask, by his looks, what was the matter?
The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before him, determined to have the fishing to himself,
anrd xrent ron with127




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"Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fishing
too, as well as hunting? ".
The count bowed: "I do not presume to say that, sir."
"But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your
hook this ways? Give me leave "; taking the whip from
Williamson's reluctant hand-"this ways, laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion next to your hook,
and the point next to your shank, this wise, and that wise;
and then, sir,-count, you take the hackle of a cock's
neck-"
"A plover's topping's better," said Williamson.
"And work your gold and silver thread," pursued Benson, "up to your wings, and when your head's made, you
fasten all."
"But you never showed how your head's made," interrupted Williamson.
"The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man
can make a head, I suppose; so, sir, you fasten all."
"You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the
world stands," cried Williamson.
"Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and
dozen, captain; and then, sir,-count, you divide your
wings with a needle."
"A pin's point will do," said Williamson.
The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet, which he had opened for the lady's inspection,
a little basket containing a variety of artificial flies of curious
construction, which, as he spread them on the table, made
Williamson's and Benson's eyes almost sparkle with delight.
There was the dun-fly,.for the month of March; and the
stone-fly, much in vogue'for April; and the ruddy-fly, of
red wool, black silk, and red capon's feathers.
Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of
the Nugents, wished them all at the bottom of the sea.
"And the green-fly, and the moorish-fly! " cried Benson,
snatching them up with transport; "and, chief, the sadyellow-fly, in which the fish delight in June; the sad-yellowfly, made with the buzzard's wings, bound with black
braked hemp, and the shell-fly, for the middle of July,
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made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the herle of a
peacock's tail, famous for creating excellent sport." All
these and more were spread upon the table before the
sportsmen's wondering eyes.
"Capital flies! capital, faith!" cried Williamson.
"Treasures, faith, real treasures, by G-! " cried Benson.
"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now," were the first words
which Heathcock had uttered since his battle with the goat.
"My dear Heathcock, are you alive still?" said Lady
Dashfort; "I had really forgotten your existence."
So had Count O'Halloran, but he did not say so.
"Your ladyship has the advantage of me there," said
Heathcock, stretching himself; "I wish I could forget my
existence, for, in my mind, existence is a horrible bore."
"I thought you was a sportsman," said Williamson.
"Well, sir?"
"And a fisherman? "
"Well, sir? "
"Why, look you there, sir," pointing to the flies, "and
tell a body life's a bore."
"One can't always fish, or shoot, I apprehend, sir," said
Heathcock.
"Not always-but sometimes," said Williamson, laughing; "for I suspect shrewdly you've forgot some of your
sporting in Bond Street."
"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now!" said the colonel, retreating again to his safe entrenchment of affectation, from
which he never could venture without imminent danger.
" 'Pon honour," cried Lady Dashfort, "I can swear for
Heathcock, that I have eaten excellent hares and ducks
of his shooting, which, to my knowledge," added she, in
a loud whisper, "he bought in the market."
"Emptum aprum    " said Lord Colambre to the count,
without danger of being understood by those whom it
concerned.
The count smiled a second time; but politely turning
the attention of the company from the unfortunate colonel
by addressing himself to the laughing sportsmen, "Gentlemen, you seem to value these," said he, sweeping the


9


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artificial flies from the table into the little basket from
which they had been taken; "would you do me the honour
to accept of them? They are all of my own making, and
consequently of Irish manufacture." Then, ringing the
bell, he asked Lady Dashfort's permission to have the
basket put into her carriage.
Benson and Williamson followed the servant, to prevent
them from being tossed into the boot. Heathcock stood
still in the middle of the room taking snuff.
Count O'Halloran turned from him to Lord Colambre,
who had just got happily to the burial-place of the Nugents,
when Lady Dashfort, coming between them, and spying
the title of the chapter, exclaimed"What have you there?-Antiquities! my delight!-but
I never look at engravings when I can see realities."
Lord Colambre was then compelled to follow, as she led
the way into the hall, where the count took down golden
ornaments, and brass-headed spears, and jointed horns of
curious workmanship, that had been found on his estate;
and he told of spermaceti wrapped in carpets, and he
showed small urns, enclosing ashes; and from among these
urns he selected one, which he put into the hands of Lord
Colambre, telling him that it had been lately found in an
old abbey-ground in his neighbourhood, which had been
the burial-place of some of the Nugent family.
"I was just looking at the account of it, in the book
which you saw open on my table.-And as you seem to
take an interest in that family, my lord, perhaps," said the
count, "you may think this urn worth your acceptance."
Lord Colambre said, "It would be highly valuable to
him-as the Nugents were his near relations."
Lady Dashfort little expected this blow; she, however,
carried him off to the moose-deer, and from moose-deer to
round-towers, to various architectural antiquities, and to
the real and fabulous history of Ireland, on all which the
count spoke with learning and enthusiasm. But now, to
Colonel Heathcock's great joy and relief, a handsome collation appeared in the dining-room, of which Alick opened
the folding-doors.
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"Count, you have made an excellent house of your
castle," said Lady Dashfort.
"It will be, when it is finished," said the count. "I
am afraid," added he, smiling, "I live like many other
Irish gentlemen, who never are, but are always to be, blest
with a good house. I began on too large a scale, and can
never hope to live to finish it."
" 'Pon honour! here's a good thing, which I hope we
shall live to finish," said Heathcock, sitting down before
the collation; and heartily did he eat of grouse pie, and of
Irish ortolans, which, as Lady Dashfort observed, "afforded
him indemnity for the past, and security for the future."
"Eh! re'lly now! your Irish ortolans are famous good
eating," said Heathcock.
"Worth being quartered in Ireland, faith! to taste 'em,"
said Benson.
The count recommended to Lady Dashfort some of
"that delicate sweetmeat, the Irish plum."
"Bless me, sir-count! " cried Williamson, "it's by far
the best thing of the kind I ever tasted in all my life: where
could you get this?"
"In Dublin, at my dear Mrs. Godey's; where only, in
his Majesty's dominions, it is to 'be had," said the count.
The whole dish vanished in a few seconds.-" 'Pon honour!
I do believe this is the thing the queen's so fond of," said
Heathcock.
Then heartily did he drink of the count's excellent
Hungarian wines; and, by the common bond of sympathy
between those who have no other tastes but eating and
drinking, the colonel, the major, and the captain were now
all the best companions possible for one another.
Whilst "they prolonged the rich repast," Lady Dashfort
and Lord Colambre went to the window to admire the
prospect; Lady Dashfort asked the count the name of
some distant hill.
"Ah! " said the count, "that hill was once covered with
fine wood; but it was all cut down two years ago."
"Who could have been so cruel? " said her ladyship.
"I forget the present proprietor's name," said the count;
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"but he is one of those who, according to the clause of
distress in their leases, lead, drive, and carry away, but
never enter their lands; one of those enemies to Irelandthose cruel absentees!" Lady Dashfort looked through
her glass at the mountain;-Lord Colambre sighed, and,
endeavouring to pass it off with a smile, said frankly to the
count"You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are
speaking to the son of an Irish absentee family.-Nay, do
not be shocked, my dear sir; I tell you only, because
I thought it fair to do so; but let me assure you, that
nothing you could say on that subject could hurt me personally, because I feel that I am not, that I never can be,
an enemy to Ireland. An absentee, voluntarily, I never
yet have been; and as to the future, I declare- "
"I declare you know nothing of the future," interrupted
Lady Darhfort, in a half-peremptory, half-playful tone"you know nothing; make no rash vows, and you will
break none."
The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort's genius for
intrigue gave her an air of frank impudence, which prevented Lord Colambre from suspecting that more was
meant than met the ear. The count and he took leave of
one another with mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to have got our hero out of Halloran Castle.
CHAPTER IX.
LORD COLAMBRE had waited with great impatience
for an answer to the letter of inquiry which he had
written about Miss Nugent's mother. A letter from
Lady Clonbrony arrived; he opened it with the greatest
eagerness-passed over
" Rheumatism - warm weather - warm bath - Buxton
balls-Miss Broadhurst-your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl,
very assiduous! "  The name of Grace Nugent he found
at last, and read as follows:
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Her mother's maiden name was St. Omar; and there was a
faux pas, certainly. She was, I am told (for it was before my
time), educated at a convent abroad; and there was an affair
with a Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were
obliged to hush up. She brought an infant to England with
her, and took the name of Reynolds-but none of that family
would acknowledge her; and she lived in great obscurity, till
your uncle Nugent saw, fell in love with her, and (knowing her
whole history) married her. He adopted the child, gave her
his name, and, after some years, the whole story was forgotten.
Nothing could be more disadvantageous to Grace than to have it
revived: this is the reason we kept it secret.
Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his
countenance, she guessed the nature of the letter which he
had been reading, and for the arrival of which he had been
so impatient.
"It has worked!" said she to herself. "Pour le coup
Philppe je te tiens / "
Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible, than he
had ever yet seemed, to the charms of the fair Isabel.
"Many a tennis-ball, and many a heart is caught at the
rebound," said Lady Dashfort.    "Isabel! now is your
time!"
And so it was-or so, perhaps, it would have been, but
for a circumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius
for intrigue, had never taken into her consideration.
Count O'Halloran 'came to return the visit which had been
paid to him; and, in the course of conversation, he spoke
of the officers who had been introduced to him, and told
Lady Dashfort that he had heard a report which shocked
him much-he hoped it could not be true-that one of
these officers had introduced his mistress as his wife to
Lady Oranmore, who lived in the neighbourhood. This
officer, it was said, had let Lady Oranmore send her carriage for this woman; and that she had dined at Oranmore
with her ladyship and her daughters.' "But I cannot
believe it! I cannot believe it to be possible, that any
SFact.
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gentleman, that any officer, could do such a thing! " said
the count.
"And is this all? " exclaimed Lady Dashfort. "Is this
all the terrible affair, my good count, which has brought
your face to this prodigious length?"
The count looked at Lady Dashfort with astonishment.
"Such a look of virtuous indignation," continued she,
"did I never behold, on or off the stage. Forgive me for
laughing, count; but, believe me, comedy goes through
the world better than tragedy, and, take it all in all, does
rather less mischief. As to the thing in question, I know
nothing about it: I dare say, it is not true; but, now, suppose it was-it is only a silly quiz, of a raw young officer,
upon a prudish old dowager. I know nothing about it, for
my part; but, after all, what irreparable mischief has been
done? Laugh at the thing, and then it is a jest-a bad
one, perhaps, but still only a jest-and there's an end of
it; but take it seriously, and there is no knowing where it
might end-in half a dozen duels, maybe."
"Of that, madam," said the count, "Lady Oranmore's
prudence and presence of mind have prevented all danger.
Her ladyship would not understand the insult. She said,
or she acted as if she said, ' 7e ne veux rien voir, rien ecouter,
rien savoir.' Lady Oranmore is one of the most respectable--"
"Count, I beg your pardon!" interrupted Lady Dashfort; "but I must tell you that your favourite, Lady Oranmore, has behaved very ill to me; purposely omitted to
invite Isabel to her ball; offended and insulted me:-her
praises,- therefore, cannot be the most agreeable subject of
conversation you can choose for my amusement; and as to
the rest, you, who have such variety and so much politeness, will, I am sure, have the goodness to indulge my
caprice in this instance."
"I shall obey your ladyship, and be silent, whatever
pleasure it might give me to speak on that subject," said
the count; "and I trust Lady Dashfort will reward me by
the assurance that, however playfully she may have just
now spoken, she seriously disapproves and is shocked."
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"Oh, shocked! shocked to death! if that will satisfy
you, my dear count."
The count, obviously, was not satisfied: he had civil, as
well as military courage, and his sense of right and wrong
could stand against the raillery and ridicule of a fine lady.
The conversation ended: Lady Dashfort thought it
would have no further consequences; and she did not regret
the loss of a man like Count O'Halloran, who lived retired
in his castle, and who could not have any influence upon
the opinion of the fashionable world. However, upon
turning from the count to Lord Colambre, who she thought
had been occupied with Lady Isabel, and to whom she
imagined all this dispute was uninteresting, she perceived,
by his countenance, that she had made a great mistake.
Still she trusted that her power over Lord Colambre was
sufficient easily to efface whatever unfavourable impression
this conversation had made upon his mind. He had no
personal interest in the affair; and she had generally found
that people are easily satisfied about any wrong or insult,
public or private, in which they have no immediate concern. But all the charms of her conversation were now
tried in vain to reclaim him from the reverie into which he
had fallen.
His friend Sir James Brooke's parting advice occurred to
our hero; his eyes began to open to Lady Dashfort's character; and he was, from this moment, freed from her power.
Lady Isabel, however, had taken no part in all this - she
was blameless; and, independently of her mother, and in
pretended opposition of sentiment, she might have continued to retain the influence she had gained over Lord
Colambre, but that a slight accident revealed to him her
real disposition.
It happened, on the evening of this day, that Lady
Isabel came into the library with one of the young ladies
of the house, talking very eagerly, without perceiving Lord
Colambre, who was sitting in one of the recesses reading.
"My dear creature, you are quite mistaken," said Lady
Isabel, "he was never a favourite of mine; I always detested him; I only flirted with him to plague his wife. Oh
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that wife, my dear Elizabeth, I do hate!" ' cried sh, clasping her hands, and expressing hatred with all her soul and
with all her strength. "I detest that Lady de Cresey to'
such a degree, that, to purchase the pleasure of making her
feel the pangs of jealousy for one hour, look, I would this
moment lay down this finger and let it be cut off."
The face, the whole figure of Lady Isabel at this moment
appeared to Lord Colambre suddenly metamorphosed; instead of the soft, gentle, amiable female, all sweet charity
and tender sympathy, formed to love and to be loved, he
beheld one possessed and convulsed by an evil spirit-her
beauty, if beauty it could be called, the beauty of a fiend.
Some ejaculation, which he unconsciously uttered, made
Lady Isabel start. She saw him-saw the expression of
his countenance, and knew that all was over.
Lord Colambre, to the utter astonishment and disappointment of Lady Dashfort, and to the still greater mortification of Lady Isabel, announced this night that it was
necessary he should immediately pursue his tour in Ireland.
We pass over all the castles in the air which the young
ladies of the family had built, and which now fell to the
ground. We pass all the civil speeches of Lord and Lady
Killpatrick; all the vehement remonstrances of Lady Dashfort; and the vain sighs of Lady Isabel.  To the last
moment Lady Dashfort said"He will not go."
But he went; and, when he was gone, Lady Dashfort
exclaimed, "That man has escaped from me." And after
a pause, turning to her daughter, she, in the most taunting
and contemptuous terms, reproached her as the cause of
this failure, concluding by a declaration that she must in
future manage her own affairs, and had best settle her mind
to marry Heathcock, since every one else was too wise to
think of her.
Lady Isabel of course retorted. But we leave this amiable mother and daughter to recriminate in appropriate
terms, and we follow our hero, rejoiced that he has been
disentangled from their snares. Those who have never
been in similar peril will wonder much that he did not
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escape sooner; those who have ever been in like danger
will wonder more that he escaped at all. Those who are
best acquainted with the heart or imagination of man will
be most ready to acknowledge that the combined charms
of wit, beauty, and flattery, may, for a time, suspend the
action of right reason in the mind of the greatest philosopher, or operate against the resolutions of the greatest
of heroes.
Lord Colambre pursued his way to Castle Halloran, desirous, before he quitted this part of the country, to take
leave of the count, who had shown him much civility, and
for whose honourable conduct, and generous character, he
had conceived a high esteem, which no little peculiarities
of antiquated dress or manner could diminish. Indeed,
the old-fashioned politeness of what was formerly called a
well-bred gentleman pleased him better than the indolent
or insolent selfishness of modern men of the ton. Perhaps, notwithstanding our hero's determination to turn
his mind from everything connected with the idea of Miss
Nugent, some latent curiosity about the burial-place of the
Nugents might have operated to make him call upon the
count. In this hope he was disappointed; for a cross miller, to whom the abbey-ground was set, on which the
burial-place was found, had taken it into his head to refuse
admittance, and none could enter his ground.
Count O'Halloran was much pleased by Lord Colambre's visit. The very day of Lord Colambre's arrival at
Halloran Castle, the count was going to Oranmore; he was
dressed, and his carriage was waiting; therefore Lord Colambre begged that he might not detain him, and the count
requested his lordship to accompany him.
"Let me have the honour of introducing you, my lord,
to a family, with whom, I am persuaded, you will be
pleased; by whom you will be appreciated; and at whose
house you will have an opportunity of seeing the best manner of living of the Irish nobility." Lord Colambre accepted the invitation, and was introduced at Oranmore.
The dignified appearance and respectable character of
Lady Oranmore; the charming unaffected manners of her
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daughters; the air of domestic happiness and comfort in her
family; the becoming magnificence, free from ostentation,
in her whole establishment; the respect and affection with
which she was treated by all who approached her, delighted
and touched Lord Colambre; the more, perhaps, because
he had heard this family so unjustly abused; and because
he saw Lady Oranmore and her daughter, in immediate
contrast to Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel."
A little circumstance which occurred during this visit
increased his interest for the family. When Lady de
Cresey's little boys came in after dinner, one of them was
playing with a seal, which had just been torn from a letter.
The child showed it to Lord Colambre, and asked him to
read the motto. The motto was, "Deeds, not words"his friend Sir James Brooke's motto, and his arms. Lord
Colambre eagerly inquired if this family was acquainted
with Sir James, and he soon perceived that they were not
only acquainted with him, but that they were particularly
interested about him.
Lady Oranmore's second daughter, Lady Harriet, appeared particularly pleased by the manner in which Lord
Colambre spoke of Sir James. And the child, who had
now established himself on his lordship's knee, turned
round, and whispered in his ear, " 'Twas Aunt Harriet gave
me the seal; Sir James is to be married to Aunt Harriet,
and then he will be my uncle. "
Some of the principal gentry of this part of the country
happened to dine at Oranmore one of the days Lord Colambre was there. He was surprised at the discovery, that
there were so many agreeable, well-informed, and well-bred
people, of whom, while he was at Killpatrickstown, he had
seen nothing. He now discerned how far he had been
deceived by Lady Dashfort.
Both the count, and Lord and Lady Oranmore, who
were warmly attached to their country, exhorted him to
make himself amends for the time he had lost, by seeing
with his own eyes, and judging with his own understanding, of the country and its own inhabitants, during the
remainder of the time he was to stay in Ireland. The
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higher classes, in most countries, they observed were generally similar; but, in the lower class, he would find many
characteristic differences.
"When he first came to Ireland, he had been very eager
to go and see his father's estate, and to judge of the conduct of his agents, and the condition of his tenantry; but
this eagerness had subsided, and the design had almost
faded from his mind, whilst under the influence of Lady
Dashfort's misrepresentations. A mistake, relative to some
remittance from his banker in Dublin, obliged him to delay his journey a few days, and during that time Lord and
Lady Oranmore showed him the neat cottages, the wellattended schools, in their neighbourhood. They showed
him not only what could be done, but what had been done,
by the influence of great proprietors residing on their own
estates, and encouraging the people by judicious kindness.
He saw, he acknowledged the truth of this; but it did
not come home to his feelings now as it would have done
a little while ago. His views and plans were altered; he
looked forward to the idea of marrying and settling in Ireland, and then everything in the country was interesting to
him; but since he had forbidden himself to think of a union
with Miss Nugent, his mind had lost its object and its
spring; he was not sufficiently calm to think of the public
good; his thoughts were absorbed by his private concern.
He knew, and repeated to himself, that he ought to visit
his own and his father's estates, and to see the condition
of his tenantry; he desired to fulfil his duties, but they
ceased to appear to him easy and pleasurable, for hope and
love no longer brightened his prospects.
That he might see and hear more than he could as heirapparent to the estate, he sent his servant to Dublin to
wait for him there. He travelled incognito, wrapped himself in a shabby greatcoat, and took the name of Evans.
He arrived at a village, or, as it was called, a town, which
bore the name of Colambre. He was agreeably surprised
by the air of neatness and finish in the houses and in the
street, which had a nicely-swept paved footway. He slept
at a small but excellent inn-excellent, perhaps, because
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it was small, and proportioned to the situation and business
of the place. Good supper, good bed, good attendance;
nothing out of repair; no things pressed into services for
what they were never intended by nature or art; none of
what are vulgarly called make-shifts.  No chambermaid
slipshod, or waiter smelling of whisky; but all tight and
right, and everybody doing their own business, and doing
it as if it was their everyday occupation, not as if it was
done by particular desire, for first or last time this season.
The landlord came in at supper to inquire whether anything
was wanted. Lord Colambre took this opportunity of
entering into conversation with him, and asked him to
whom the town belonged, and who were the proprietors
of the neighbouring estates.
"The town belongs to an absentee lord-one Lord Clonbrony, who lives always beyond the seas, in London; and
never seen the town since it was a town, to call a town."
"And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this
Lord Clonbrony? "
"It does, sir; he's a great proprietor, but knows nothing
of his property, nor of us. Never set foot among us, to
my knowledge, since I was as high as the table. He
might as well be a West India planter, and we negroes, for
anything he knows to the contrary-has no more care, nor
thought about us, than if he were in Jamaica, or the
other world. Shame for him!-But there's too many to
keep him in countenance."
Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and
then inquired who managed the estate for this absentee.
"Mr. Burke, sir. And I don't know why God was so
kind to give so good an agent to an absentee like Lord
Clonbrony, except it was for the sake of us, who is under
him, and knows the blessing, and is thankful for the same."
"Very good cutlets, " said Lord Colambre.
"I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be
good, for Mrs. Burke sent her own cook to teach my wife
to dress cutlets."
"So the agent is a good agent, is he?"
"He is, thanks be to Heaven! And that's what few can
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boast, especially when the landlord's living over the seas:
we have the luck to have got a good agent over us, in Mr.
Burke, who is a right bred gentleman; a snug little proDerty of his own, honestly made; with the good will and,ood wishes, and respect of all."
"Does he live in the neighbourhood? "
"Just convanient.' At the end of the town; in the house
on the hill, as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees
about it, all of his planting, finely grown too-for there's
a blessing on all he does, and he has done a deal.-There's
salad, sir, if you arepartialto it. Very fine lettuce. Mrs.
Burke sent us the plants herself."
"Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great
deal, has he? In what way? "
"In every way, sir-sure was not it he that had improved, and fostered, and made the town of Colambre?no thanks to the proprietor, nor to the young man whose
name it bears, neither! "
"Have you any porter, pray, sir? "
"We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you'd drink in London, for it's the same you get there, I understand, from
Cork.. And I have some of my own brewing, which, they
say, you could not tell the difference between it and Cork
quality-if you'd be pleased to try. Harry, the corkscrew.
The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be
extremely good; and the landlord observed it was Mr.
Burke encouraged him to learn to brew, and lent him his
own brewer for a time to teach him.
"Your Mr. Burke, I find, is apropos to porter, apropos to
salad, apropos to cutlets, apropos to everything," said Lord
Colambre, smiling; "he seems to be a non-pareil of an
agent. I suppose you are a great favourite of his, and
you do what you please with him? "
"Oh no, sir, I could not say that; Mr. Burke does not
have favourites anyway; but according to my deserts, I
trust, I stand well enough with him, for, in truth, he is a
right good agent."
I Convenient: near.
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Lord Colambre still pressed for particulars; he was an
Englishman, and a stranger, he said, and did not exactly
know what was meant in Ireland by a good agent.
"Why, he is the man that will encourage the improving
tenant; and show no favour or affection, but justice, which
comes even to all, and does best for all at the long run;
and, residing always in the country, like Mr. Burke, and
understanding country business, and going about continually among the tenantry, he knows when to press for the
rent, and when to leave the money to lay out upon the land;
and, according as they would want it, can give a tenant a
help or a check properly. Then no duty-work called for,
no presents, nor glove-money, nor sealing-money even, taken
or offered; no underhand hints about proposals, when land
would be out of lease, but a considerable preference, if
desarved, to the old tenant, and if not, a fair advertisement, and the best offer and tenant accepted; no screwing
of the land to the highest penny, just to please the head
landlord for the minute, and ruin him at the end, by the
tenant's racking the land, and running off with the year's
rent; nor no bargains to his own relations or friends did
Mr. Burke ever give or grant, but all fair between landlord
and tenant; and that's the thing that will last; and that's
what I call the good agent."
Lord Colambre poured out a glass of wine, and begged
the innkeeper to drink the good agent's health, in which
he was heartily pledged. "I thank your honour;-Mr.
Burke's health! and long may he live over and amongst
us; he saved me from drink and ruin, when I was once inclined to it, and made a man of me and all my family."
The particulars we cannot stay to detail: this grateful
man, however, took pleasure in sounding the praises of his
benefactor, and in raising him in the opinion of the traveller.
"As you've time, and are curious about such things, sir,
perhaps you'd walk up to the school that Mrs. Burke has
for the poor children; and look at the market-house, and
see how clean he takes a pride to keep the town; and any
house in the town, from the priest's to the parson's, that
you'd go into, will give you the same character as I do of
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Mr. Burke: from the brogue to the boot, all speak the
same of him, and can say no other. God for ever bless
and keep him over us! "
Upon making further inquiries, everything the innkeeper
had said was confirmed by different inhabitants of the village. Lord Colambre conversed with the shopkeepers,
with the cottagers; and, without making an"y alarming inquiries, he obtained all the information he wanted. He
went to the village school-a pretty, cheerful house, with
a neat garden and a play-green; met Mrs. Burke; introduced himself to her as a traveller. The school was shown
to him: it was just what it ought to be-neither too much
nor too little had been attempted; there was neither too
much interference nor too little attention. Nothing for
exhibition; care to teach well, without any vain attempt
to teach in a wonderfully short time. All that experience
proves to be useful, in both Dr. Bell's and Mr. Lancaster's
modes of teaching, Mrs. Burke had adopted; leaving it to
"graceless zealots" to fight about the rest. That no attempts at proselytism had been made, and that no illiberal
distinctions had been made in this school, Lord Colambre
was convinced, in the best manner possible, by seeing the
children of Protestants and Catholics sitting on the same
benches, learning from the same books, and speaking to
one another with the same cordial familiarity. Mrs. Burke
was an unaffected, sensible woman, free from all party prejudices, and, without ostentation, desirous and capable of
doing good. Lord Colambre was much pleased with her,
and very glad that she invited him to dinner.
Mr. Burke did not come in till late; for he had been detained portioning out some meadows, which were of great
consequence to the inhabitants of the town. He brought
home to dine with him the clergyman and the priest of the
parish, both of whom he had taken successful pains to accommodate with the land which suited their respective
convenience. The good terms on which they seemed to
be with each other, and with him, appeared to Lord
Colambre to do honour to Mr. Burke. All the favourable
accounts his lordship had received of this gentleman were
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confirmed by what he saw and heard. After the clergyman and priest had taken leave, upon Lord Colambre's
expressing some surprise, mixed with satisfaction, at seeing
the harmony which subsisted between them, Mr. Burke
assured him that this was the same in many parts of Ireland. He observed, that "as the suspicion of ill-will never
fails to produce it," so he had often found, that taking it
for granted that no ill-will exists has the most conciliating
effect. He said, to please opposite parties, he used no
arts; but he tried to make all his neighbours live comfortably together, by making them acquainted with each other's
good qualities; by giving them opportunities of meeting
sociably, and, from time to time, of doing each other little
services and good offices. "Fortunately, he had so much
to do," he said, "that he had no time for controversy.
He was a plain man, made it a rule not to meddle with
speculative points, and to avoid all irritating discussions;
he was not to rule the country, but to live in it, and make
others live as happily as he could."
Having nothing to conceal in his character, opinions, or
circumstances, Mr. Burke was perfectly open and unreserved in his manner and conversation; freely answered all
the traveller's inquiries, and took pains to show him everything he desired to see. Lord Colambre said he had
thoughts of settling in Ireland; and declared, with truth,
that he had not seen any part of the country he should like
better to live in than this neighbourhood. He went over
most of the estate with Mr. Burke, and had ample opportunities of convincing himself that this gentleman was indeed, as the innkeeper had described him, "a right good
gentleman, and a right good agent."
He paid Mr. Burke some just compliments on the state
of the tenantry, and the neat and flourishing appearance
of the town of Colambre.
"What pleasure it will give the proprietor when he sees
all you have done! " said Lord Colambre.
"Oh, sir, don't speak of it!-that breaks my heart; he
never has shown the least interest in anything I have done;
he is quite dissatisfied with me, because I have not ruined
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his tenantry, by forcing them to pay more than the land is
worth; because I have not squeezed money from them by
fining down rents; and-but all this, as an Englishman,
sir, must be unintelligible to you. The end of the matter
is, that, attached as I am to this place and the people about
me, and, as I hope, the tenantry are to me-I fear I shall
be obliged to give up the agency."
"Give up the agency! How so?-you must not," cried
Lord Colambre, and, for the moment, he forgot himself;
but Mr. Burke took this only for an expression of goodwill.
"I must, I am afraid," continued he. "My employer,
Lord Clonbrony, is displeased with me-continual calls for
money come upon me from England, and complaints of
my slow remittances."
"Perhaps Lord Clonbrony is in embarrassed circumstances," said Lord Colambre.
"I never speak of my employer's affairs, sir," replied
Mr. Burke; now for the first time assuming an air of
reserve.
"I beg pardon, sir-I seem to have asked an indiscreet
question." Mrs. Burke was silent.
"Lest my reserve should give you a false impression, I
will add, sir," resumed Mr. Burke, "that I really am not
acquainted with the state of his lordship's affairs in general.
I know only what belongs to the estate under my own
management.   The principal part of his lordship's property, the Clonbrony estate, is under another agent, Mr.
Garraghty."
"Garraghty! " repeated Lord Colambre; "what sort of
a person is he? But I may take it for granted, that it
cannot fall to the lot of one and the same absentee to
have two such agents as Mr. Burke."
Mr. Burke bowed, and seemed pleased by the compliment, which he knew he deserved-but not a word did he
say of Mr. Garraghty; and Lord Colambre, afraid of betraying himself by some other indiscreet question, changed
the conversation.
That very night the post brought a letter to Mr. Burke,
1o                  145




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from Lord Clonbrony, which Mr. Burke gave to his wife
as soon as he had read it, saying"See the reward of all my services!"
Mrs. Burke glanced her eye over the letter, and, being
extremely fond of her husband, and sensible of his deserving far different treatment, burst into indignant exclamations"See the reward of all your services, indeed!-What an
unreasonable, ungrateful man!-So, this is the thanks for
all you have done for Lord Clonbrony! "
"He does not know what I have done, my dear. He
never has seen what I have done."
"More shame for him! "
"He never, I suppose, looks over his accounts, or understands them."
"More shame for him! "
"He listens to foolish reports, or misrepresentations,
perhaps. He is at a distance, and cannot find out the
truth."
"More shame for him!"
"Take it quietly, my dear; we have the comfort of a
good conscience. The agency may be taken from me by
this lord; but the sense of having done my duty, no lord
or man upon earth can give or take away."
"Such a letter! " said Mrs. Burke, taking it up again.
"Not even the civility to write with his own hand!-only
his signature to the scrawl--looks as if it was written by a
drunken man, does not it, Mr. Evans? " said she, showing
the letter to Lord Colambre, who immediately recognised
the writing of Sir Terence O'Fay.
"It does not look like the hand of a gentleman, indeed,"
said Lord Colambre.
"It has Lord Clonbrony's own signature, let it be what
it will," said Mr. Burke, looking closely at it; "Lord Clonbrony's own writing the signature is, I am clear of that."
Lord Clonbrony's son was clear of it also; but he took
care not to give any opinion on that point.
"Oh, pray, read it, sir, read it," said Mrs. Burke, pleased
by his tone of indignation; "read it, pray; a gentleman
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may write a bad hand, but no gentleman could write such
a letter as that to Mr. Burke-pray read it, sir; you who
have seen something of what Mr. Burke has done for the
town of Colambre, and what he has made of the tenantry
and the estate of Lord Clonbrony."
Lord Colambre read, and was convinced that his father
had never written or read the letter, but had signed it,
trusting to Sir Terence O'Fay's having expressed his sentiments properly.
SIR,
As I have no further occasion for your services, you will take
notice, that I hereby request you will forthwith hand over, on
or before the ist of November next, your accounts, with the
balance due of the hanging-gale (which, I understand, is more
than ought to be at this season) to Nicholas O'Garraghty, Esq.,
College Green, Dublin, who in future will act as agent, and
shall get, by post, immediately, a power of attorney for the
same, entitling him to receive and manage the Colambre as well
as the Clonbrony estate, for, Sir, your obedient humble servant,
CLONBRONY.
"GROSVENOR SQUARE."
Though misrepresentation, caprice, or interest, might
have induced Lord Clonbrony to desire to change his
agent, yet Lord Colambre knew that his father could never
have announced his wishes in such a style; and, as he returned the letter to Mrs. Burke, he repeated, he was convinced that it was impossible that any nobleman could
have written such a letter; that it must have been written
by some inferior person; and that his lordship had signed
it without reading it.
"My dear, I'm sorry you showed that letter to Mr.
Evans," said Mr. Burke; "I don't like to expose Lord
Clonbrony; he is a well-meaning gentleman, misled by
ignorant or designing people; at all events, it is not for us
to expose him."
"He has exposed himself," said Mrs. Burke; "and the
world should know it."
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"He was very kind to me when I was a young man,"
said Mr. Burke; "we must not forget that now, because
we are angry, my love."
"Why, no, my love, to be sure we should not; but who
could have recollected it just at this minute but yourself?
-And now, sir," turning to Lord Colambre, "you see
what kind of a man this is: now is it not difficult for me to
bear patiently to see him ill-treated? "
"Not only difficult, but impossible, I should think,
madam," said Lord Colambre; "I know, even I, who am
a stranger, cannot help feeling for both of you, as you
must see I do."
"And half the world, who don't know him," continued
Mrs. Burke, "when they hear that Lord Clonbrony's
agency is taken from him, will think, perhaps, that he is
to blame."''
"No, madam," said Lord Colambre; "that you need
not fear; Mr. Burke may safely trust to his character;
from what I have within these two days seen and heard, I
am convinced that such is the respect he has deserved and
acquired, that no blame can touch him."
"Sir, I thank you," said Mrs. Burke, the tears coming
into her eyes; "you can judge--you do him justice; but
there are so many who don't know him, and who will decide without knowing any of the facts."
"That, my dear, happens about everything to everybody," said Mr. Burke; "but we must have patience;
time sets all judgments right, sooner or later."
"But the sooner the better," said Mrs. Burke. "Mr.
Evans, I hope you will be so kind, if ever you hear this
business talked of--"
"Mr. Evans lives in Wales, my dear."
"But he is travelling through Ireland, my dear, and he
said he should return to Dublin, and, you know, there he
certainly will hear it talked of; and I hope he will do me
the favour to state what he has seen and knows to be the
truth:"
"Be assured that I will do Mr. Burke justice-as far as
it is in my power," said Lord Colambre, restraining him148




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self much, that he might not say more than became his
assumed character. He took leave of this worthy family
that night, and, early the next morning, departed.
"Ah!" thought he, as he drove away from this wellregulated and flourishing place, "how happy I might be,
settled here with such a wife as-her of whom I must think
no more.)
He pursued his way to Clonbrony, his father's other
estate, which was at a considerable distance from Colambre; he was resolved to know what kind of agent Mr.
Nicholas Garraghty might be, who was to supersede Mr.
Burke, and by power of attorney to be immediately entitled to receive and manage the Colambre as well as the
Clonbrony estate.
CHAPTER X.
TOWARDS the evening of the second day's journey,
the driver of Lord Colambre's hackney chaise
stopped, and jumping off the wooden bar, on which
he had been seated, exclaimed"We're come to the bad step, now. The bad road's
beginning upon us, please your honour."
"Bad road! that is very uncommon in this country. I
never saw such fine roads as you have in Ireland."
"That's true; and God bless your honour, that's sensible
of that same, for it's not what all the foreign quality I
drive have the manners to notice. God bless your honour!
I heard you're a Welshman, but whether or no, I am sure
you are a gentleman, anyway, Welsh or other."
Notwithstanding the shabby greatcoat, the shrewd postillion perceived, by our hero's language, that he was a
gentleman. After much dragging at the horses' heads,
and pushing and lifting, the carriage was got over what
the postillion said was the worst part of the bad step; but
as the road "was not yet to say good," he continued walkingc beside the carriage.
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"It's only bad just hereabouts, and that by accident,"
said he, "on account of there being no jantleman resident
in it, nor near; but only a bit of an under-agent, a great
little rogue, who gets his own turn out of the roads, and of
everything else in life. I, Larry Brady, that am telling
your honour, have a good right to know, for myself, and
my father, and my brother. Pat Brady, the wheelwright,
had once a farm under him; but was ruined, horse and
foot, all along with him, and cast out, and my brother
forced to fly the country, and is now working in some
coachmaker's yard, in London; banished he is!-and here
am I, forced to be what I am-and now that I'm reduced
to drive a hack, the agent's a curse to me still, with these
bad roads, killing my horses and wheels-and a shame to
the country, which I think more of-Bad luck to him!"
"I know your brother; he lives with Mr. Mordicai, in
Long Acre, in London."
" Oh, God bless you for that!"
They came at this time within view of a range of about
four-and-twenty men and boys, sitting astride on four-andtwenty heaps of broken stones, on each side of the road;
they were all armed with hammers, with which they began
to pound with great diligence and noise as soon as they
saw the carriage. The chaise passed between these batteries, the stones flying on all sides.
"How are you, Jem?-How are you, Phil%," said Larry.
"But hold your hand, can't ye, while I-,stop and get the
stones out of the horses' feet. So you're making up the
rent, are you, for St. Dennis? "
"Whoosh!" said one of the pounders, coming close to
the postillion, and pointing his thumb back towards the
chaise. "Who have you in it? "
"Oh, you need not scruple, he's a very honest man;he's only a man from North Wales, one Mr. Evans, an
innocent jantleman, that's sent over to travel up and
down the country, to find is there any copper mines in it.
"How do you know, Larry?"     -
"Because I know very well, from one that was tould,
and I seen him tax the man of the King's Head, with a
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copper half-crown, at first sight, which was only lead to
look at, you'd think, to them that was not skilful in copper. So lend me a knife, till I cut a linch-pin out of the
hedge, for this one won't go far."
Whilst Larry was making the linch-pin, all scruple being
removed, his question about St. Dennis and the rent was
answered.
"Ay, it's the rint, sure enough, we're pounding out for
him; for he sent the driver round last-night-was-eight days,
to warn us old Nick would be down a'-Monday, to take a
sweep among us; and there's only six clear days, Saturday
night, before the assizes, sure; so we must see and get it
finished anyway, to clear the presentment again' the swearing day, for he and Paddy Hart is the overseers themselves,
and Paddy is to swear to it."
"St. Dennis, is it? Then you've one great comfort and
security-that he won't be particular about the swearing;
for since ever he had his head on his shoulders, an oath
never stuck in St. Dennis's throat, more than in his own
brother, old Nick's."
"His head upon his shoulders! " repeated Lord Colambre. "Pray, did you ever hear that St. Dennis's head
was off his shoulders? "
"It never was, plase your honour, to my knowledge."
"Did you never, among your saints, hear of St. Dennis
carrying his head in his hand? " said Colambre.
"The raelsaint! " said the postillion, suddenly changing
his tone, and looking shocked. "Oh, don't be talking
that way of the saints, plase your honour."
"Then of what St. Dennis were you talking just now?Whom do you mean by St. Dennis, and whom do you call
old Nick? "
"Old Nick," answered the postillion, coming close to
the side of the carriage, and whispering-" Old Nick, plase
your honour, is our nickname for one Nicholas Garraghty,
Esq., of College Green, Dublin, and St. Dennis is his
brother Dennis, who is old Nick's brother in all things,
and would fain be a saint, only he is a sinner. He
lives just by here, in thc country, under-agent to Lord




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Clonbrony, as old Nick is upper-agent-it's only a joke
among the people, that are not fond of them at all. Lord
Clonbrony himself is a very good jantleman, if he was
not an absentee, resident in London, leaving us and everything to the likes of them."
Lord Colambre listened with all possible composure and
attention; but the postillion having now made his linch-pin
of wood, and fixed himself, he mounted his bar, and drove
on, saying to Lord Colambre, as he looked at the roadmakers" Poor cratures! They couldn't keep their cattle out of
pound, or themselves out of jail, but by making this road."
"Is road-making, then, a very profitable business?Have road-makers higher wages than other men in this
part of the country? "
"It is, and it is not-they have, and they have notplase your honour."
"I don't understand you."
"No, becaase you're an Englishman-that is, a Welshman-I beg your honour's pardon. But I'll tell you how
that is, and I'll go slow over these broken stones,.-for I
can't go fast: it is where there's no jantleman over these
under-agents, as here, they do as they plase; and when
they have set the land they get rasbnable from the head
landlords, to poor cratures at a rack-rent, that they can't
live and pay the rent, they say--"
"Who says? "
"Them   under-agents, that have no conscience at all.
Not all-but some, like Dennis, says, says he, 'I'll get you
a road to make up the rent': that is, plase your honour,
the agent gets them a presentment for so many perches of
road from the grand jury, at twice the price that would
make the road. And tenants are, by this means, as they
take the road by contract, at the price given by the county,
able to pay all they get by the job, over and above potatoes and salt, back again to the agent, for the arrear on the
land. Do I make your honour sensible? ' "
"You make me much more sensible than I ever was
I Do I make you understand?
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before," said Lord Colambre; "but is not this cheating
the county?"
"Well, and suppose, " replied Larry, "is not it all for my
good, and yours too, plase your honour?" said Larry,
looking very shrewdly.
"My good!" said Lord Colambre, startled. "What
have I to do with it?"
"Haven't you to do with the roads as well as me, when
you're travelling upon them, plase your honour? And sure,
they'd never be got made at all, if they weren't made this
ways; and it's the best way in the wide world, and the finest roads we have. And when the raeljantlemen's resident
in the country, there's no jobbing can be, "because they're
then the leading men on the grand jury; and these journeymen jantlemen are then kept in order, and all's right."
Lord Colambre was inuch surprised at Larry's knowledge
of the manner in which county business is managed, as
well as by his shrewd good sense: he did not know that
this is not uncommon in his rank of life in Ireland.
Whilst Larry was speaking, Lord Colambre was looking
from side to side at the desolation of the prospect.
"So this is Lord Clonbrony's estate, is it?"
"Ay, all you see, and as far and farther than you can
see. My Lord Clonbrony wrote, and ordered plantations
here, time back; and enough was paid to labourers for
ditching and planting. And, what next?-Why, what did
the under-agent do, but let the goats in through gaps, left
o' purpose, to bark the trees, and then the trees was all
banished. And next, the cattle was let in trespassing, and
winked at, till the land was all poached; and then the land
was waste, and cried down; and St. Dennis wrote up to
Dublin to old Nick, and he over to the landlord, how none
would take it, or bid anything at all for it; so then it fell
to him a cheap bargain. Oh, the tricks of them! who
knows 'em, if I don't?"
Presently, Lord Colambre's attention was roused again,
by seeing a man running, as if for his life, across a bog,
near the roadside; he leaped over the ditch, and was upon
the road in an instant. He seemed startled at first, at the
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sight of the carriage; but, looking at the postillion, Larry
nodded, and he smiled and said"All's safe! "
"Pray, my good friend, may I ask what that is you
have on your shoulder? " said Lord Colambre.
"Plase your honour, it is only a private still, which I've
just caught out yonder in the bog; and I'm carrying it in
with all speed to the gauger, to make a discovery, that the
jantleman may benefit by the reward; I expect he'll make
me a compliment."
"Get up behind, and I'll give you a lift," said the
postillion.
"Thank you kindly-but better my legs! " said the man;
and turning down a lane, off he ran again as fast as possible.
"Expect he'll make me a compliment," repeated Lord
Colambre, "to make a discovery! "
"Ay, plase your honour; for the law is," said Larry,
"that, if an unlawful still, that is, a still without license
for whisky, is found, half the benefit of the fine that's put
upon the parish goes to him that made the discovery;
that's what that man is after, for he's an informer."
"I should not have thought, from what I see of you,"
said Lord Colambre, smiling, "that you, Larry, would
have offered an informer a lift."
"Oh, plase your honour!" said Larry, smiling archly,
"would not I give the laws a lift, when in my power?"
Scarcely had he uttered these words, and scarcely was
the informer out of sight, when across the same bog, and
over the ditch, came another man, a half kind of gentleman, with a red silk handkerchief about his neck, and a
silver-handled whip in his hand.
"Did you see any man pass the road, friend?" said he
to the postillion.
"Oh! who would I see? or why would I tell?" replied
Larry, in a sulky tone.
"Come, come, be smart! " said the man with the silver
whip, offering to put half a crown into the postillion's
hand; "point me which way he took."
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"I'll have none o' your silver! don't touch me with it! "
said Larry. "But, if you'll take my advice, you'll strike
across back, and follow the fields, out to Killogenesawee."
The exciseman set out again immediately, in an opposite
direction to that which the man who carried the still had
taken. Lord Colambre now perceived that the pretended
informer had been running off to conceal a still of his
own.
"The gauger, plase your honour," said Larry, looking
back at Lord Colambre; "the gauger is a still-hunting!"
"And you put him on a wrong scent!" said Lord
Colambre.
"Sure, I told him no lie; I only said, 'If you'll take my
advice.' And why was he such a fool as to take my advice, when I wouldn't take his fee? "
"So this is the way, Larry, you give a lift to the laws! "
"If the laws would give a lift to me, plase your honour,
maybe I'd do as much by them. But it's only these
revenue laws I mean; for I never, to my knowledge, broke
another commandment; but it's what no honest poor man
among his neighbours would scruple to take-a glass of
potsheen."
"A glass of what, in the name of Heaven? " said Lord
Colambre.
"Potsheen, plase your honour;-becaase it's the little
whisky that's made in the private still or pot; and sheen,
becaase it's a fond word for whatsoever we'd like, and for
what we have little of, and would make much of: after
taking the glass of it, no man could go and inform to ruin
the cratures,; for they all shelter on that estate under
favour of them that go shares, and make rent of 'em-but
I'd never inform again' 'em. And, after all, if the truth
was known, and my Lord Clonbrony should be informed
against, and presented, for it's his neglect is the bottom of
the nuisance-"
"I find all the blame is thrown upon this poor Lord
Clonbrony," said Lord Colambre.
"Becaase he is absent," said Larry. "It would not be
so was he prisint. But your honour was talking to me
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about the laws. Your honour's a stranger in this country,
and astray about them things. Sure, why would I mind
the laws about whisky, more than the quality, or the judge
on the bench?"
"What do you mean? "
"Why! was not I prisint in the court-house myself,
when thejidge was on the bench judging a still, and across
the court came in one with a sly jug of potsheen for the
jidge himself, who prefarred it, when the right thing, to
claret; and when I seen that, by the laws! a man might
talk himself dumb to me after again' potsheen, or in favour
of the revenue, or revenue-officers. And there they may
go on, with their gaugers, and their surveyors, and their
supervisors, and their watching-officers, and their coursingofficers, setting 'em one after another, or one over the
head of another, or what way they will-we can baffle and
laugh at 'em. Didn't I know, next door to our inn, last
year, ten watching-officers set upon one distiller, and he
was too cunning for them; and it will always be so, while
ever the people think it no sin. No, till then, not all their
dockets and permits signify a rush, or a turf. And the
gauging rod even! who fears it? They may spare that
rod, for it will never mend the child."
How much longer Larry's dissertation on the distillery
laws would have continued, had not his ideas been interrupted, we cannot guess; but he saw he was coming to a
town, and he gathered up the reins, and plied the whip,
ambitious to make a figure in the eyes of its inhabitants.
This town consisted of one row of miserable huts, sunk
beneath the side of the road, the mud walls crooked in
every direction; some of them opening in wide cracks, or
zigzag fissures, from top to bottom, as if there had just
been an earthquake-all the roofs sunk in various placesthatch off, or overgrown with grass-no chimneys, the
smoke making its way through a hole in the roof, or rising
in clouds from the top of the open door-dunghills before
the doors, and green standing puddles-squalid children,
with scarcely rags to cover them, gazing at the carriage.
"Nugent's town," said the postillion, "once a snug




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place, when my Lady Clonbrony was at home to whitewash it, and the like."
As they drove by, some men and women put their heads
through the smoke out of the cabins; pale women with
long, black, or yellow locks-men with countenances and
figures bereft of hope and energy.
"Wretched, wretched people! " said Lord Golambre.
"Then it's not their fault neither,"9 said Larry; "for my
own uncle's one of them, and as thriving and hard a working man as could be in all Ireland, he wvas, afore he was
tramped under foot, and his heart broke. I was at his
funeral, this time last year; and for it, may the agent's
own heart, if he has any, burnLord Co'lambre interrupted this denunciation by touching Larry's shoulder, and asking some question, which, as
Larry did not distinctly comprehend, he pulled up the
reins, and the various noises of the vehicle stopped suddenly.
" I did not hear well, plase your honour.'
"What are those people? " pointing to a man and woman, curious figures, who had come out of a cabin, the
door of which the woman, who came out last, locked, and
carefully hiding the key in the thatch, turned her back
upon the man, and they walked away in different directions: the woman bending under a huge bundle on her
back, covered by a yellow petticoat turned over her
shoulders; from the top of this bundle the head of an infant appeared; a little boy, almost naked, followed her
with a kettle, and two girls, one of whom could but just
walk, held her hand and clung to her ragged petticoat;
forming, altogether, a complete group of beggars. The
woman stopped, and looked back after the man.
The man was a Spanish-looking figure, with grey hair;
a wallet hung at the end of a stick over one shoulder, a
reaping-hook in the other hand; he walked off stoutly,
without ever casting a look behind him.
"A kind harvest to you, John Dolan," cried the postillion," "and success to ye, Winny, with the quality. There's
a luck-penny for the child to begin with,"' added he, throw157




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ing the child a penny. "Your honour, they're only poor
cratures going up the country to beg, while the man goes
over to reap the harvest in England. Nor this would not
be, neither, if the lord was in it to give 'em employ. That
man, now, was a good and a willing slave in his day: I
mind him working with myself in the shrubberies at Clonbrony Castle, when I was a boy-but I'll not be detaining
your honour, now the road's better."
The postillion drove on at a good rate for some time,
till he came to a piece of the road freshly covered with
broken stones, where he was obliged again to go slowly.
They overtook a string of cars, on which were piled up
high, beds, tables, chairs, trunks, boxes, bandboxes.
"How are you, Finnucan? you've fine loading therefrom Dublin, are you? "
"From Bray."
"And what news?"
"Great news and bad, for old Nick, or some belonging
to him, thanks be to Heaven! for myself hates him."
"What's happened him? "
"His sister's husband that's failed, the great grocer that
was, the man that had the wife that ow'd' the fine house
near Bray, that they got that time the Parliament flitted,
and that I seen in her carriage flaming-well, it's all out;
they're all done up."
"Tut! is that all? then they'll thrive, and set up again
grander than ever, I'll engage; have not they old Nick for
an attorney at their back? a good warrant! "
"Oh, trust him for that! he won't go security nor pay a
farthing for his shister, nor wouldn't was she his father; I
heard him telling her so, which I could not have done in
his place at that time, and she crying as if her heart would
break, and I standing by in the parlour."
"The neger /! And did he speak that way, and you
by? "
"Ay did he; and said, 'Mrs. Raffarty,' says he, 'it's all
your own fault; you're an extravagant fool, and ever was,
1 Owned.
2 Neger, quasi negro; meo periculo, niggard.
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and I wash my hands of you'; that was the word he spoke;
and she answered, and said, 'And mayn't I send the beds
and blankets,' said she, 'and what I can, by the cars, out
of the way of the creditors, to Clonbrony Castle; and
won't you let me hide there from the shame, till the
bustle's over?'-'You may do that,' says he, 'for what I
care; but remember,' says he, 'that I've the first claim to
them goods'; and that's all he would grant. So they are
coming down all o' Monday-them are her bandboxes
and all-to settle it; and faith it was a pity of her! to hear
her sobbing, and to see her own brother speak and look so
hard! and she a lady.''
"Sure she's not a lady born, no more than himself,"
said Larry; "but that's no excuse for him. His heart's
as hard as that stone," said Larry; "and my own people
knew that long ago, and now his own know it; and what
right have we to complain, since he's as bad to his own
flesh and blood as to us?"
With this consolation, and with a "God speed you,"
given to the carman, Larry was driving off; but the carman called to him, and pointed to a house, at the corner
of which, on a high pole, was swinging an iron sign of
three horse-shoes, set in a crooked frame, and at the window hung an empty bottle, proclaiming whisky within.
"Well, I don't care if I do," said Larry; "for I've no
other comfort left me in life now. I beg your honour's
pardon, sir, for a minute," added he, throwing the reins
into the carriage to Lord Colambre, as he leaped down.
All remonstrance and power of lungs to reclaim him vain!
He darted into the whisky-house with the carman-reappeared before Lord Colambre could accomplish getting
out, remounted his seat, and, taking the reins, "I thank
your honour,'' said he; " and I'11 bring you into Clonbrony
before it's pitch-dark yet, though it's nightfall, and that's
four good miles, but 'a spur in the head is worth two in
the heel.' "
Larry, to demonstrate the truth of his favourite axiom,
drove off at such a furious rate over great stones left in the
middle of the road by carmen, who had been driving in the
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gudgeons of their axle-trees to hinder them from lacing,'
that Lord Colambre thought life and limb in imminent
danger; and feeling that at all events the jolting and
bumping was past endurance, he had recourse to Larry's
shoulder, and shook and pulled, and called to him to go
slower, but in vain; at last the wheel struck full against a
heap of stones at a turn of the road, the wooden linch-pin
came off, and the chaise was overset: Lord Colambre was
a little bruised, but glad to escape without fractured bones.
"I beg your honour's pardon," said Larry, completely
sobered; "I'm as glad as the best pair of boots ever I see,
to see your honour nothing the worse for it. It was the
linch-pin, and them barrows of loose stones, that ought to
be fined anyway, if there was any justice in the country."
"The pole is broke; how are we to get on? " said Lord
Colambre.
"Murder! murder!-and no smith nearer than Clonbrony; nor rope even. It's a folly to talk, we can't get to
Clonbrony, nor stir a step backward or forward the night."
"What, then, do you mean to leave me all night in the
middle of the road?" cried Lord Colambre, quite exasperated.
"Is it me! please your honour? I would not use any
jantleman so ill, barring I could do no other," replied the
postillion, coolly; then, leaping across the ditch, or, as he
called it, the gripe of the ditch, he scrambled up, and while
he was scrambling, said, "If your honour will lend me your
hand till I pull you up the back of the ditch, the horses
will stand while we go. I'll find you as pretty a lodging
for the night, with a widow of a brother of my shister's
husband that was, as ever you slept in your life; for old
Nick or St. Dennis has not found 'em out yet; and your
honour will be, no compare, snugger than the inn at Clonbrony, which has no roof, the devil a stick. But where
will I get your honour's hand; for it's coming on so dark,
I can't see rightly. There, you're up now safe. Yonder
candle's the house."
"Go and ask whether they can give us a night's lodging."
I Opening; perhaps from lacker, to loosen.
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"Is it ask? when I see the light!-Sure they'd be proud
to give the traveller all the beds in the house, let alone
one. Take care of the potato furrows, that's all, and follow me straight. I'll go on to meet the dog, who knows
me and might be strange to your honour."
"Kindly welcome," were the first words Lord Colambre
heard when he approached the cottage; and "kindly welcome9 was in the sound of the voice and in the countenance
of the old woman who came out, shading her rush-candle
from the wind, and holding it so as to light the path.
When he entered the cottage, he saw a cheerful fire and a
neat pretty young woman making it blaze:-she curtsied,
put her spinning-wheel out of the way, set a stool by the
fire for the stranger, and repeating, in a very low tone of
voice, "Kindly welcome, sir," retired.
"Put down some eggs, dear, there's plenty in the bowl,"
said the old woman, calling to her; "I'll do the bacon.
Was not we lucky to be up?-The boy's gone to bed, but
waken him," said she, turning to the postillion; "and he'll
help you with the chay, and put your horses in the bier
for the night."
No; Larry chose to go on to Clonbrony with the horses,
that he might get the chaise mended betimes for his
honour. The table was set; clean trenchers, hot potatoes,
milk, eggs, bacon, and "kindly welcome to all."
"Set the salt, dear; and the butter, love; where's your
head, Grace, dear? "
"Grace! " repeated Lord Colambre, looking up; and, to
apologise for his involuntary exclamation, he added, "Is
Grace a common name in Ireland? "
"I can't say, plase your honour, but it was give her by
Lady Clonbrony, from a niece of her own that was her
foster-sister, God bless her! and a very kind lady she was
to us and to all when she was living in it; but those times
are gone past," said the old woman, with a sigh. The
young woman sighed too; and, sitting down by the fire,
began to count the notches in a little bit of stick, which
she held in her hand; and, after she had counted them,
sighed again.
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"But don't be sighing, Grace, now," said the old woman; "sighs is bad sauce for the traveller's supper; and
we won't be troubling him with more," added she, turning
to Lord Colambre with a smile.
"Is your egg done to your liking? "
"Perfectly, thank you."
"Then I wish it was a chicken for your sake, which it
should have been, and roast too, had we time. I wish I
could see you eat another egg."
"No more, thank you, my good lady; I never ate a
better supper, nor received a more hospitable welcome."
''Oh, the welcome is all we have to offer.''
"May I ask what that is? " said Lord Colambre, looking
at the notched stick, which the young woman held in her
hand, and on which her eyes were still fixed.
"It's a tally, plase your honour. Oh, you're a foreigner;
-it's the way the labourers do keep the account of the
day's work with the overseer, the bailiff; a notch for every
day the bailiff makes on his stick, and the labourer the like
on his stick, to tally; and when we come to make up the
account, it's by the notches we go. And there's been a
mistake, and is a dispute here between our boy and the
overseer; and she was counting the boy's tally, that's in
bed, tired, for in troth he's overworked."
"Would you want anything more from me, mother?"
said the girl, rising and turning her head away.
"No, child; get away, for your heart's full."
She went instantly.
"Is the boy her brother? " said Lord Colambre.
"No; he's her bachelor," said the old woman, lowering
her voice.
"Her bachelor?"
"That is, her sweetheart: for she is not my daughter,
though you heard her call me mother. The boy's my
son; but I am afeardthey must give it up; for they're too
poor, and the times is hard, and the agent's harder than
the times; there's two of them, the under and the upper;
and they grind the substance of one between them, and
then blow one away like chaff: but we'll not be talking
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of that to spoil your honour's night's rest. The room's
ready, and here's the rushlight."
She showed him into a very small but neat room.
"What a comfortable-looking bed!" said Lord Colambre.
"Ah, these red check curtains," said she, letting them
down; "these have lasted well; they were give me by a
good friend, now far away, over the seas-my Lady Clonbrony; and made by the prettiest hands ever you see, her
niece's, Miss Grace Nugent's, and she a little child that
time; sweet love! all gone! "
The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord
Colambre did what he could to appear indifferent. She
set down the candle, and left the room; Lord Colambre
went to bed, but he lay awake, "revolving sweet and bitter
thoughts."
CHAPTER XI
HE kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, everything
prepared for her guest by the hospitable hostess,
who, thinking the gentleman would take tea to his
breakfast, had sent off a gossoon by the first light to Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a quarter of sugar, and a loaf
of white bread; and there was on the little table good
cream, milk, butter, eggs-all the promise of an excellent
breakfast. It was afresh morning, and there was a pleasant fire on the hearth, neatly swept up. The old woman
was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a little skreen of
whitewashed wall, built out into the room, for the purpose
of keeping those who sat at the fire from the blast of the
door. There was a loophole in this wall, to let the light
in, just at the height of a person's head, who was sitting
near the chimney. The rays of the morning sun now came
through it, shining across the face of the old woman, as
she sat knitting; Lord Colambre thought he had seldom
seen a more agreeable countenance, intelligent eyes, benevolent smile, a natural expression of cheerfulness, subdued
by age and misfortune.
"A good morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you
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got the night well?-A fine day for us this Sunday morning; my Grace is gone to early prayers, so your honour
will be content with an old woman to make your breakfast.
Oh, let me put in plenty, or it will never be good; and if
your honour takes stir-about, an old hand will engage to
make that to your liking, anyway; for, by great happiness,
we have what will just answer for you of the nicest meal
the miller made my Grace a compliment of, last time she
went to the mill."'
Lord Colambre observed, that this miller had good taste;
and his lordship paid some compliment to Grace's beauty,
which the old woman received with a smile, but turned off
the conversation. "Then," said she, looking out of the
window, "is not that there a nice little garden the boy dug
for her and me, at his breakfast and dinner hours? Ah!
he's a good boy, and a good warrant to work; and the
good son desarves the good wife, and it's he that will make
the good husband; and with my goodwill he, and no other,
shall get her, and with her goodwill the same; and I bid
'em keep up their heart, and hope the best, for there's no
use in fearing the worst till it comes."
Lord Colambre wished very much to know the worst.
"If you would not think a stranger impertinent for asking," said he, "and if it would not be painful to you to
explain."
"Oh, impertinent, your honour! it's very kind-and,
sure, none's a stranger to one's heart, that feels for one.
And for myself, I can talk of my troubles without thinking
of them. So, I'll tell you all-if the worst comes to the
worst-all that is, is, that we must quit, and give up this
little snug place, and house, and farm, and all, to the agent
-which would be hard on us, and me a widow, when my
husband did all that is done to the land; and if your
honour was a judge, you could see, if you stepped out,
there has been a deal done, and built the house, and allbut it plased Heaven to take him. Well, he was too good
for this world, and I'm satisfied-I'm not saying a word
again' that-I trust we shall meet in heaven, and be
happy, surely. And, meantime, here's my boy, that will
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make me as happy as ever widow was on earth-if the
agent will let him. And I can't think the agent, though
they that know him best call him old Nick, would be so
wicked to take from us that which hie never gave us. The
grood lord himself granted us the lazse,- the life's dropped,
and the years is out; but we had a promise of renewal in
writing from the landlord. God bless him! if he was not
away, he'd be a good gentleman, and we'd be happy and
safe. "
"dtBut if you have a promise in writing of a renewval,
surely you are safe, whether your landlord is absent or
present?"
"Ah, no! that makes a great differ, when there's no eye
or hand over the agent. I would not wish to speak or
think ill of him or any man; but was he an angel, he could
not know to do the tenantry justice, the way he is living
always in Dublin, and coming down to the country only
the receiving days, to make a sweep among us, and gather
up the rents in a hurry, and he in such haste back to town
-can just stay to count over our money, and give the receipts. Happy for us, if we gret that same!-but can',t
expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind our
improvements, any more than listen to our complaints!
Oh, there's great excuse for the gentleman, if that was any
comfort for us," added she, smiling.
"But, if he does not live amongst you himself, has not
he some under-agent, who lives in the country? " said
Lord Colambre.
"He has so."
"And he should know your concerns: does he mind
them?"
" He should know-he should know better; but as to
minding our concerns, your honour knows, " continued
she, smiling again, " every one in this world must mind
their own concerns; and it would be a good world, if it
was even so. There's a great deal in all things, that don't
appear at first sight. Mr. Dennis wanted Grace for a wife
for his bailiff., but she would not have him; and Mr.
Dennis was very sweet to her himself-but Grace is rather
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higrh with him as proper, and he has a grudge aga-in' us
ever since. Yet, indeed, there," added she, after another
pause, "as you say, I think we are safe; for we have that
memorandum in writing, with a pencil, given under his own
hand, on the back of the lase, to Me, by the same token
when my good lord had his foot on the step of the coach,
going away; and I'll never forget the smile of her that got
that good turn done for me, Miss Grace. And just when
she was going to England and London, and, young as she
was, to have the thought to stop and turn to the likes of
me! Oh, then, if you could see her, and know her, as I
did! That was the comforting angel upon earth-look
and voice, and heart and all!1 Oh, that she was here present, this minute!-But did you scald yourself?" said the
widow to Lord Colambre. " Sure you must have scalded
yourself; for you poured the kettle straight over your
hand, and it boiling!-O deear! to think of so young a
gentleman's hand shaking so like my own."
Luckily, to prevent her pursuing her observations from
the hand to the face, which might have betrayed more
than Lord Colambre wished she should know, her own
Grace came in at this instant.
"There it's for you, safe, mother dear-the lase!/ " said
Grace, throwing a packet into her lap. The old woman
lifted up her hands to heaven, with the lease between
them.-" Thanks be to Heaven! " Grace passed on, and
sunk down on the first seat she could reach. Her face
flushed, and., looking much fatigued, she loosened the
strings of her bonnet and cloak-" Then, I'm tired";
but, recollecting herself, she rose, and curtsied to the
gentleman.
"What tired ye, dear?"
"Why, after prayers, we had to go-for the agent was
not at prayers, nor at home for us, when we called-we
had to go all the way up to the castle; and there, by great
good luck, we found Mr. Nick Garraghty himself, come
from Dublin, and the lase in his hands; and he sealed it
up that way, and handed it to me very civil. I never saw
him so good-though he offered me a glass of spirits,
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which was not manners to a decent young woman, in a
morning--as Brian noticed after. Brian would not take
any either, nor never does. We met Mr. Dennis and the
driver coming home; and he says, the rent must be paid
to-morrow, or, instead of renewing, he'll seize and sell all.
Mother dear, I would have dropped with the walk, but for
Brian's arm."-"It's a wonder, dear, what makes you so
weak, that used to be so strong. "-" But if we can sell the
cow for anything at all to Mr. Dennis, since his eye is set
upon her, better let him have her, mother dear; and that
and my yarn, which Mrs. Garraghty says she'll allow me
for, will make up the rent-and Brian need not talk of
America. But it must be in golden guineas, the agent
will take the rent no other way; and you won't get a
guinea for less than five shillings. Well, even so, it's easy
selling my new gown to one that covets it, and that will
give me in exchange the price of the gold; or, suppose
that would not do, add this cloak,-it's handsome, and I
know a friend would be glad to take it, and I'd part it as
ready as look at it-Anything at all, sure, rather than that
he should be forced to talk of emigrating; or, oh, worse
again, listing for the bounty-to save us from the cant or
the jail, by going to the hospital, or his grave, maybeOh, mother! "
"Oh, child! This is what makes you weak, fretting.
Don't be that way. Sure here's the lase, and that's good
comfort; and the soldiers will be gone out of Clonbrony
to-morrow, and then that's off your mind. And as to
America, it's only talk-I won't let him, he's dutiful; and
would sooner sell my dresser and down to my bed, dear,
than see you sell anything of yours, love. Promise me
you won't. Why didn't Brian come home all the way with
you, Grace?"
"He would have seen me home," said Grace, "only
that he went up a piece of the mountain for some stones
or ore for the gentleman-for he had the manners to think
of him this morning, though, shame for me, I had not,
when I come in, or I would not have told you all this, and
he himself by. See, there he is, mother."
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Brian came in very hot, out of breath, with his hat full
of stones. "Good morrow to your honour.* I was in bed
last night; and sorry they did not call me up to be of
sarvice. Larry was telling us, this morning, your honour's
from Wales, and looking for mines in Ireland, and I heard
talk that there was one on our mountain-maybe, you'd
be curous to see, and so I brought the best I could, but I'm
no judge."
"Nor I, neither," thought Lord Colambre; but he
thanked the young man, and determined to avail himself
of Larry's misconception or false report; examined the
stones very gravely, and said, "This promises well. Lapis
caliminaris, schist, plum-pudding stone, rhomboidal, crystal, blend, garrawachy," and all the strange names he could
think of, jumbling them together at a venture.
"The lase!-Is it?" cried the young man, with joy
sparkling in his eyes, as his mother held up the packet.
"Then all's safe! and he's an honest man, and shame on
me, that could suspect he meant us wrong. Lend me the
papers."
He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover,--"It's
the lase, sure enough. Shame on me!-But stay, where's
the memorandum? "
"It's there, sure," said his mother, "where my lord's
pencil writ it. I don't read.-Grace, dear, look."
The young man put it into her hands, and stood without
power to utter a syllable.
"It's not here! It's gone!-no sign of it."
"Gracious Heaven! that can't be," said the old woman,
putting on her spectacles; "let me see-I remember the
very spot."
"It's taken away-it's rubbed clean out!-Oh, wasn't I
a fool? But who could have thought he'd be the villain! "
The young man seemed neither to see nor hear; but to
be absorbed in thought.
Grace, with her eyes fixed upon him, grew as pale as
death-" He'll go-he's gone."
"She's gone! " cried Lord Colambre, and the mother
just caught her in her arms as she was falling.
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"The chaise is ready, plase your honour," said Larry,
coming into the room. "Death! what's here? "
"Air!-she's coming to,"' said the young man-"Take a
drop of water, my own Grace."
"Young man, I promise you," cried Lord Colambre
(speaking in the tone of a master), striking the young
man's shoulder, who was kneeling at Grace feet; but recollecting and restraining himself, he added, in a quiet voice
-"I promise you I shall never forget the hospitality I
have received in this house, and I am sorry to be obliged
to leave you in distress."
These words uttered with difficulty, he hurried out of
the house, and into his carriage. "Go back to them,"
said he to the postillion; "go back and ask whether, if I
should stay a day or two longer in this country, they
would let me return at night and lodge with them. And
here, man, stay, take this," putting money into his hands,
"for the good woman of the house."
The postillion went in, and returned.
"She won't at all-I knew she would not."
"Well, I am obliged to her for the night's lodging she
did give me; I have no right to expect more."
"What is it?-Sure she bid me tell you-'and welcome
to the lodging; for,' said she, 'he is a kind-hearted gentleman'; but here's the money; it's that I was telling you
she would not have at all."
"Thank you. Now, my good friend Larry, drive me to
Clonbrony, and do not say another word, for I'm not in a
talking humour."
Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony.
Clonbrony was now a melancholy scene. The houses,
which had been built in a better style of architecture than
usual, were in a ruinous condition; the dashing was off the
walls, no glass in the windows, and many of the roofs without slates. For the stillness of the place Lord Colambre
in some measure accounted, by considering that it was
Sunday; therefore, of course, all the shops were shut up,
and all the people at prayers. He alighted at the inn,
which completely answered Larry's representation of it.
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Nobody to be seen but a drunken waiter, who, as well as
he could articulate, informed Lord Colambre that "his
mistress was in her bed since Thursday-was-a-week; the
hostler at the wash-woman's, and the cook at second
prayers. "
Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church
gate was locked and broken-a calf, two pigs, and an ass,
in the churchyard; and several boys (with more of skin
apparent than clothes) were playing at hustlecap upon a
tombstone, which, upon nearer observation, he saw was
the monument of his own family. One of the boys came
to the gate, and told Lord Colambre "there was no use in
going into the church, becaase there was no church there;
nor had not been this twelve-month; becaase there was no
curate; and the parson was away always, since the lord
was at home-that is, was not at home-he nor the family."
Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting
a considerable time, he gave up the point-he could not
get any dinner-and in the evening he walked out again
into the town. He found several ale-houses, however,
open, which were full of people; all of them as busy and
as noisy as possible. He observed that the interest was
created by an advertisement of several farms on the Clonbrony estate, to be set by Nicholas Garraghty, Esq. He
could not help smiling at his being witness incognito to
various schemes for outwitting the agents and defrauding
the landlord; but, on a sudden, the scene was changed; a
boy ran in, crying out, that "St. Dennis was riding down
the hill into the town; and, if you would not have the
license," said the boy, "take care of yourself."
" If you wouldn't have the license," Lord Colambre perceived, by what followed, meant, "If you have not a
license." Brannagan immediately snatched an untasted
glass of whisky from a customer's lips (who cried, Murder!),
gave it and the bottle he held in his hand to his wife, who
swallowed the spirits, and ran away with the bottle and
glass into some back hole; whilst the bystanders laughed,
saying, "Well thought of, Peggy!"
"Clear out all of you at the back door, for the love of
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heaven, if you wouldn't be the ruin of me," said the man
of the house, setting a ladder to a corner of the shop.
"Phil, hoist me up the keg to the loft," added he, running
up the ladder; "and one of yees step up street, and give
Rose M'Givney notice, for she's selling too."
The keg was hoisted up; the ladder removed; the shop
cleared of all the customers; the shutters shut; the door
barred; the counter cleaned. "Lift your stones, sir, if
you plase," said the wife, as she rubbed the counter, "and
say nothing of what you seen at all; but that you're a
stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging, if you're questioned, or waiting to see Mr. Dennis. There's no smell
of whisky in it now, is there, sir?"
Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this
-he could only hope no one would perceive it.
"Oh, and if he would, the smell of whisky was nothing,"
as the wife affirmed, "for it was everywhere in nature, and
no proof again' any one, good or bad."
"Now St. Dennis may come when he will, or old Nick
himself!i " So she tied up a blue handkerchief over her
head, and had the toothache, "very bad."
Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.
"He's safe in bed," said the wife.
"In bed! When?"
"Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the
handkerchief over my face. Within the room, look, he is
snug.
And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on
the chest.
A knock, a loud knock at the door.
"St. Dennis himself!-Stay, till I unbar the door," said
the woman; and, making a great difficulty, she let him in,
groaning, and saying"We was all done up for the night, plase your honour,
and myself with the toothache, very bad-And the lodger,
that's going to take an egg only, before he'd go into his
bed. My man's in it, and asleep long ago."
With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank
disappointment, Mr. Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked
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into the room, saw the good man of the house asleep, heard
him snore, and then, returning, asked Lord Colambre "who
he was, and what brought him there? "
Our hero said he was from England, and a traveller;
and now, bolder grown as a geologist, he talked of his
specimens, and his hopes of finding a mine in the neighbouring mountains; then adopting, as well as he could,
the servile tone and abject manner in which he found Mr.
Dennis was to be addressed, "he hoped he might get encouragement from the gentleman at the head of the estate."
"To bore, is it?-Well, don't bore me about it. I can't
give you any answer now, my good friend; I'm engaged."
Out he strutted. "Stick to him up the town, if you
have a mind to get your answer," whispered the woman.
Lord Colambre followed, for he wished to see the end of
this scene.
"Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me,
like my shadow, for? " said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly
upon Lord Colambre.
His lordship bowed low. "Waiting for my answer, sir,
when you are at leisure. Or, may I call upon you tomorrow? "
"You seem to be a civil kind of fellow; but, as to boring,
I don't know-if you undertake it at your own expense.
I dare say there may be minerals in the ground. Well,
you may call at the castle to-morrow, and when my
brother has done with the tenantry, I'll speak to him for
you, and we'll consult together, and see what we think.
It's too late to-night. In Ireland, nobody speaks to a
gentleman about business after dinner-your servant, sir;
anybody can show you the way to the castle in the morning." And, pushing by his lordship, he called to a man
on the other side of the street, who had obviously been
waiting for him; he went under a gateway with this man,
and gave him a bag of guineas. He then called for his
horse, which was brought to him by a man whom Colambre had heard declaring that he would bid for the land that
was advertised; whilst another, who had the same intentions, most respectfully held St. Dennis's stirrup, whilst
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he mounted without thanking either of these men. St.
Dennis clapped spurs to his steed, and rode away. No
thanks, indeed, were deserved; for the moment he was
out of hearing, both cursed him after the manner of their
country.
"Bad luck go with you, then!-And may you break your
neck before you get home, if it was not for the lase I'm to
get, and that's paid for."
Lord Colambre followed the crowd into a public-house,
where a new scene presented itself to his view.
The man to whom St. Dennis gave the bag of gold was
now selling this very gold to the tenants, who were to pay
their rent next day at the castle.
The agent would take nothing but gold. The same
guineas were bought and sold several times over, to the
great profit of the agent and loss of the poor tenants; for,
as the rents were paid, the guineas were resold to another
set, and the remittances made through bankers to the landlord; who, as the poor man who explained the transaction
to Lord Colambre expressed it, "gained nothing by the
business, bad or good, but the ill-will of the tenantry."
The higgling for the price of the gold; the time lost in
disputing about the goodness of the notes, among some
poor tenants, who could not read or write, and who were
at the mercy of the man with the bag in his hand; the
vexation, the useless harassing of all who were obliged to
submit ultimately-Lord Colambre saw; and all this time
he endured the smell of tobacco and whisky, and of the
sound of various brogues, the din of men wrangling, brawling, threatening, whining, drawling, cajoling, cursing, and
every variety of wretchedness.
"And is this my father's town of Clonbrony? " thought
Lord Colambre. "Is this Ireland?-No, it is not Ireland.
Let me not, like most of those who forsake their native
country, traduce it. Let me not, even to my own mind,
commit the injustice of taking a speck for the whole.
What I have just seen is the picture only of that to which
an Irish estate and Irish tenantry may be degraded in the
absence of those whose duty and interest it is to reside in
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Ireland to uphold justice by example and authority; but
who, neglecting this duty, commit power to bad hands and
bad hearts-abandon their tenantry to oppression, and
their property to ruin."
It was now fine moonlight, and Lord Colambre met with
a boy, who said he could show him a short way across the
fields to the widow O'Neill's cottage.
CHAPTER XII.
LL were asleep at the cottage, when Lord Colambre
arrived, except the widow, who was sitting up, waiting for him; and who had brought her dog into the
house, that he might not fly at him, or bark at his return.
She had a roast chicken ready for her guest, and it wasbut this she never told him-the only chicken she had left;
all the others had been sent with the duty-fowl, as a present to the under-agent's lady. While he was eating his
supper, which he ate with the better appetite, as he had
had no dinner, the good woman took down from the shelf
a pocket-book, which she gave him: "Is not that your
book?" said she. "My boy Brian found it after you in
the potato furrow, where you dropped it."
"Thank you," said Lord Colambre; "there are bank
notes in it, which I could not afford to lose."
"Are there?" said she; "he never opened it-nor I."
Then, in answer to his inquiries about Grace and the
young man, the widow answered, "They are all in heart
now, I thank ye kindly, sir, for asking; they'll sleep easy
to-night anyway, and I'm in great spirits for them and
myself-for all's smooth now. After we parted you, Brian
saw Mr. Dennis himself about the lase and memorandum,
which he never denied, but knew nothing about. 'But, be
that as it may,' says he, 'you're improving tenants, and
I'm confident my brother will consider ye; so what you'll
do is, you'll give up the possession to-morrow to myself,
that will call for it by cockcrow, just for form's sake; and
then go up to the castle with the new lase ready drawn, in
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your hand, and if all's paid off clear of the rent, and all
that's due, you'll get the new lase signed; I'll promise you
that upon the word and honour of a gentleman.' And
there's no going beyond that, you know, sir. So my boy
came home as light as a feather, and as gay as a lark, to
bring us the good news; only he was afraid we might not
make up the rent, guineas and all; and because he could
not get paid for the work he done, on account of the mistake in the overseer's tally, I sold the cow to a neighbour
-dog-cheap; but needs must, as they say, when old Nick
drives," said the widow, smiling. "Well, still it was but
paper we got for the cow; then that must be gold before
the agent would take or touch it-so I was laying out to
sell the dresser, and had taken the plates and cups, and
little things off it, and my boy was lifting it out with Andy
the carpenter, that was agreeing for it, when in comes
Grace, all rosy, and out of breath-it's a wonder I minded
her run out, and not missed her. 'Mother,' says she,
'here's the gold for you! don't be stirring your dresser.'
-'And where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I. But
I beg your pardon, sir; maybe I'm tiring you?"
Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.
" 'Where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I.'Gone,' says she. 'The cloak was too warm and heavy,
and I don't doubt, mother, but it was that helped to make
me faint this morning. And as to the gown, sure I've a
very nice one here, that you spun for me yourself, mother;
and that I prize above all the gowns ever came out of a
loom; and that Brian said become me to his fancy above
any gown ever he see me wear; and what could I wish for
more?' Now I'd a mind to scold her for going to sell the
gown unknown'st to me, but I don't know how it was, I
couldn't scold her just then, so kissed her, and Brian the
same, and that was what no man ever did before. And
she had a mind to be angry with him, but could not, nor
ought not, says I; 'for he's as good as your husband now,
Grace; and no man can part yees now,' says I, putting
their hands together. Well, I never saw her look so
p-tty-; nor there was not a happier boy that minute on
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God's earth than my son, nor a happier mother than myself; and I thanked God that had given them to me; and
down they both fell on their knees for my blessing, little
worth as it was; and my heart's blessing they had, and I
laid my hands upon them. 'It's the priest you must get
to do this for you to-morrow,' says I. And Brian just
held up the ring, to show me all was ready on his part, but
could not speak. 'Then there's no America any more! '
said Grace, low to me, and her heart was on her lips; but
the colour came and went, and I was afeard she'd have
swooned again, but not for sorrow, so I carried her off.
Well, if she was not my own-but she is not my own born,
so I may say it-there never was a better girl, nor a more
kind-hearted, nor generous; never thinking anything she
could do, or give, too much for them she loved, and anything at all would do for herself; the sweetest natured and
tempered both, and always was, from this high; the bond
that held all together, and joy of the house."
"Just like her namesake," cried Lord Colambre.
" Plase your honour? "
"Is not it late? " said Lord Colambre, stretching himself
and gaping; "I've walked a great way to-day. "
The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his
red check bed, and wished him a very good night; not
without some slight sentiment of displeasure at his gaping
thus at the panegyric on her darling Grace. Before she
left the room, however., her short-lived resentment vanished, upon his saying that he hoped, with her permission,
to be present at the wedding of the young couple.
Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his
reverence when it would be convenient to marry him; and,
whilst he was gone, Mr. Dennis Garraghty came to the
cottage, to receive the rent and possession. The rent was
ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.
"No occasion for a receipt; for a new lase is a receipt in
f ull f or everything. "
" Very well, sir, " said the widow; "'I know nothing of
law. You know best-whatever you direct-for you are
acting as a friend to us now. My son got the attorney to
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draw the pair of new lases yesterday, and here they are
ready, all to signing."'
Mr. Dennis said his brother must settle that part of the
business, and that they must carry them up to the castle;
"but first give me the possession.'
Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the
door to him, and a bit of the thatch of the house; and he
raked out the fire, and said every living creature must go
out. "It's only form of law," said he.
"And must my lodger get up and turn PTt\sirK  said
she.
"He must turn out, to be sure-not a living soul must
be left in it, or it's no legal possession properly. Who is
your lodger?"
On Lord Colambre's appearing, Mr. Dennis showed
some surprise, and said, "I thought you were lodging at
Brannagan's; are not you the man who spoke to me at his
house about the gold mines? "
"No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan's," said the
widow.
"Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about
the gold mines at Brannagan's; but I did not like to
lodge--"
"Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must
walk out of this lodging now, if you please, my good
friend. "'
So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders,
repeating, as the widow turned back and looked with some
surprise and alarm, "only for form's sake, only for form's
sake!" then locking the door, took the key, and put it
into his pocket. The widow held out her hand for it:
"The form's gone through now, sir, is not it? Be plased
to let us in again.'
"When the new lease is signed, I'll give you possession
again; but not till then-for that's the law. So make
away with you to the castle; and mind," added he, winking slily,-"mind you take sealing-money with you, and
something to buy gloves."
"Oh, where will I find all that?" said the widow.
117               177




THE ABSENTEE


"I have it, mother; don't fret," said Grace. "I have
it-the price of-what I can want.' So let us go off to the
castle without delay. Brian will meet us on the road, you
know."
They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accompanying them. Brian met them on the road. "'Father
Tom is ready, dear mother; bring her in, and he'll marry
us. I'm not my own man till she's mine. Who knows.
what may happen?"
"Who knows? that's true," said the widow.
"Better go to the castle first," said Grace.
"And keep the priest waiting! You can't use his reverence so," said Brian.
So she let him lead her into the priest's house, and she
did not make any of the awkward draggings back, or
ridiculous scenes of grimace sometimes exhibited on these
occasions; but blushing rosy red, yet with more self-possession than could have been expected from her timid
nature, she gave her hand to the man she loved, and listened
with attentive devotion 'to the holy ceremony.
"Ah! " thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated
the bride, "shall I ever be as happy as these poor people
are at this moment?" He longed to make them some
little present, but all he could venture at this moment was
to pay the priest's dzies.
The priest positively refused to take anything. "They
are the best couple in my parish," said he; "and I'll take
nothing, sir, from you, a stranger and my guest.'"
"Now, come what will, I'm a match for it. No trouble
can touch me," said Brian.
"Oh, don't be bragging," said the widow.
"Whatever trouble God sends, He has given one now
will help to bear it, and sure I may be thankful," said
Grace.
"Such good hearts must be happy-shall be happy!"
said Lord Colambre.
"Oh, you're very kind," said the widow, smiling; "and
I wouldn't doubt you, if you had the power. I hope,
1 What I can do without.
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then, the agent will give you encouragement about them
mines, that we may keep you among us."
"I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted,
generous people! " cried Lord Colambre, "whether the
agent gives me encouragement or not," added he.
It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman,
as she said herself, would not have been able for it, but for
a lift given to her by a friendly carman, whom they met
on the road with an empty car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of meeting
and being recognised by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer
to the question of, "Who is at the castle?" replied, "Mrs.
Raffarty will be in it afore night; but she's on the road
still. There's none but old Nick in it yet; and he's more
of a neger than ever; for think, that he would not pay me
a farthing for the carriage of his s/iister's boxes and bandboxes down. If you're going to have any dealings with
him, God grant ye a safe deliverance! "
"Amen!" said the widow, and her son and daughter.
Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view
of the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it
since he was six years old. Some faint reminiscence from
his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew the
place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all about
it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the
mossy gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air
of desertion and melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees
cut down, and lying on the gravel in lots to be sold. A
hill that had been covered with an oak wood, in which, in
his childhood, our hero used to play, and which he called
the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the
white stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down,
to make up the last remittances.-" And how it went, when
sold!-but no matter," said Finnucan; "it's all alike.--It's
the back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose."
And such a yard! "But it's no matter," repeated Lord
Colambre to himself; "it's all alike."
In the kitchen a great dinner was dressing for Mr.
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Garraghty's friends, who were to make merry with him
when the business of the day was over.
" Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret
for after dinner," says one; "and the wine for the cooksure there's venison," cries another.-" Venison!-That's
the way my lord's deer goes," says a third, laughing."Ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here to eat
'em. "-"Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man,
if you plase," said the agent's cook, shutting the door in
Lord Colambre's face. "There's the way to the office, if
you've money to pay, up the back stairs."
" No; up the grand staircase they must-Mr. Garraghty
ordered," said the footman; "because the office is damp
for him, and it's not there he'll see anybody to-day; but in
my lady's dressing-room."
So up the grand staircase they went, and through the
magnificent apartments, hung with pictures of great value,
spoiling with damp. "Then, isn't it a pity to see them?
There's my lady, and all spoiling," said the widow.
Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent.-"Shamefully damaged!" cried he. "Pass on, or
let me pass, if you plase," said one of the tenants; "and
don't be stopping the doorway." "I have business more
nor you with the agent,'" said the surveyor; "where is
he? "
" In the presence-chamber," replied another; "where
should the viceroy be but in thepresence-chamber? "
There was a full levee, and fine smell of greatcoats."Oh! would you put your hats on the silk cushions? " said
the widow to some men in the doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.-"Why not?
where else? " "If the lady was in it, you wouldn't," said
she, sighing.-"No, to be sure, I wouldn't; great news!
would I make no differ in the presence of old Nick and my
lady?" said he, in Irish. "Have I no sense or manners,
good wdman, think ye? " added he, as he shook the ink
out of his pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished
signing his name to a paper on his knee. "You may wait
long before you get to the speech of the great man," said
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another, who was working his way through numbers.
They continued pushing forward, till they came within
sight of Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a
worse countenance, or a more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord Colambre had never
beheld.
We forbear all further detail of this levee. "It's all the
same!" as Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every
fresh instance of roguery or oppression to which he was
witness; and, having completely made up his mind on the
subject, he sat down quietly in the background, waiting
till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for
he was now interested only to see how she would be
treated. The room gradually thinned; Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to help his
brother to count the heaps of gold.
"Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your
promise, meeting me here," said the widow O'Neill, walking up to him; "I'm sure you'll speak a good word for
me; here's the lases-who will I offer this to? "A said she,
holding the glove-money and sealing-money,-' for I'm
strange and ashamed."
"Oh, don't be ashamed-there's no strangeness in bringing money or taking it," said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty,
holding ourt his hand. "Is this the proper compliment?"
"I hope so, sir; your honour knows best."
"Very well," slipping it into his private purse. "Now,
what's your business? "
"The lases to sign-the rent's all paid up."
"Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?"
"It was, plase your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the
key of our little place in his pocket."
"Then I hope he'll keep it there.  Your little place-it's
no longer yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You
don't think I'm such a fool as to renew to you at this
rent.
"Mr. Dennis named the rent. But anything your honour
plases-anything at all that we can pay."
"Oh, it's out of the question-put it out of your head.
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No rent you can offer would do, for I've promised it to the
surveyor.
"Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in
writing of a renewal, on the back of the ould lase."
"Produce it."
"Here's the lase, but the promise is rubbed out."
"Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed
out. Who'll listen to that in a court of justice, do you
think?"
"I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of,
my lord and Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time,
God bless her! who was by when my lord wrote it with his
pencil, will remember it."
"Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?-What
has she to do with the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray? "
"Management!-no, sir!
"Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the
house?"
"Oh, God forbid!-how could that be?"
"Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and
witness in what my lord does not choose."
"Well then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in
it at all, if it was ever so with me. But be plased, sir, to
write over to my lord, and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it."
"Write to my. lord about such a trifle-trouble him
about such nonsense! "
"I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my
word, and believe me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor
cheat rich or poor, if in my power, for the whole estate,
nor the whole world: for there's an eye above."
"Cant! nonsense!-Take those leases off the table; I
never will sign them. Walk off, ye canting hag; it's an
imposition-I will never sign them."
"You will then, sir," cried Brian, growing red with indignation; "for the law shall make you, so it shall; and
you'd as good have been civil to my mother, whatever you
did-for I'll stand by her while I've life; and I know she
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has right, and shall have law. I saw the memorandum
written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever
became of it after; and will swear to it, too."
"Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will
avail in your own Case in a court of justice," continued
old Nick.
"And against a gentleman of my brother's established
character and property," said St. Dennis. "What's your
mother's character against a gentleman's like this? "
"Character! take care how you go to that, anyway, sir,"
cried Brian.
Grace put her hand before his mouth, to stop him.
"Grace, dear, I must speak, if I die for it; sure it's for
my mother," said the young man, struggling forward,
while his mother held him back; "I must speak."
"Oh, he's ruin'd, I see it," said Grace, putting her hand
before her eyes, "and he won't mind me."
"Go on, let him go on, pray, young woman," said Mr.
Garraghty, pale with anger and fear, his lips quivering; "I
shall be happy to take down his words."
"Write them; and may all the world read it, and welcome! "
His mother and wife stopped his mouth by force.
"Write you, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty, giving the
pen to his brother; for his hand shook so he could not
form a letter. "Write the very words, and at the top"
(pointing) "after warning, wit/h malice prepense."
"Write, then-mother, Grace-let me," cried Brian,
speaking in a smothered voice, as their hands were over
his mouth. "Write then, that, if you'd either of you a
character like my mother, you might defy the world; and
your word would be as good as your oath."
"Oath/! mind that, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty.
"Oh, sir! sir! won't you stop him?" cried Grace,
turning suddenly to Lord Colambre.
"Oh dear, dear, if you haven't lost your feeling for us,"
cried the widow.
"Let him speak," said Lord Colambre, in a tone of
authority; "let the voice of truth be heard."
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" Truth /  cried St. Dennis, and dropped the pen.
"And who the devil are you, sir?" said old Nick.
"Lord Colambre, I protest! " exclaimed a female voice;
and Mrs. Raffarty at this instant appeared at the open door.
"Lord Colambre!" repeated all present, in different
tones.
"My lord, I beg pardon," continued Mrs. Raffarty, advancing as if her legs were tied; "had I known you was
down here, I would not have presumed. I'd better retire;
for I see you're busy."
"You'd best; for you're mad, sister," said St. Dennis,
pushing her back; "and we are busy; go to your room,
and keep quiet, if you can."
"First, madam," said Lord Colambre, going between
her and the door, "let me beg that you will consider yourself as at home in this house, whilst any circumstances
make it desirable to you. The hospitality you showed me
you cannot think that I now forget."
"Oh, my lord, you're too good-how few-too kindkinder than my own," and bursting into tears, she escaped
out of the room.
Lord Colambre returned to the party round the table,
who were in various attitudes of astonishment, and with
faces of fear, horror, hope, joy, doubt.
"Distress," continued his lordship, "however incurred,
if not by vice, will always find a refuge in this house. I
speak in my father's name, for I know I speak his sentiments. But never more shall vice," said lie, darting such
a look at the brother agents as they felt to the backbone"never more shall vice, shall fraud enter here."
He paused, and there was a momentary silence.
"There spoke the true thing! and the rael gentleman;
my own heart's satisfied," said Brian, folding his arms,
and standing erect.
"Then so is mine," said Grace, taking breath, with a
deep sigh.
The widow advancing, put on her spectacles, and, looking up close at Lord Colambre's face-"Then it's a wonder
I didn't know the family likeness."
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Lord Colambre now recollecting that he still wore the
old greatcoat, threw it off.
"Oh, bless him! Then now I'd know him anywhere.
I'm willing to die now, for we'll all be happy."
"My lord, since it is so-my lord, may I ask you," said
Mr. Garraghty, now sufficiently recovered to be able to
articulate, but scarcely to express his ideas; "if what your
lordship hinted just now- "
"I hinted nothing, sir; I spoke plainly."
"I beg pardon, my lord," said old Nick;-" respecting
vice, was levelled at me; because, if it was, my lord," trying to stand erect; "let me tell your lordship, if I could
think it was--"
"If it did not hit you, sir, no matter at whom it was
levelled."
"And let me ask, my lord, if I may presume, whether, in
what you suggested by the word fraud, your lordship had
any particular meaning? " said St. Dennis.
"A very particular meaning, sir,-feel in your pocket
for the key of this widow's house, and deliver it to
her. "
"Oh, if that's all the meaning, with all the pleasure in
life. I never meant to detain it longer than till the leases
were signed," said St. Dennis.
"And I'm ready to sign the leases this minute," said the
brother.
"Do it, sir, this minute; I have read them; I will be
answerable to my father."
"Oh, as to that, my lord, I have power to sign for your
father."  He signed the leases; they were duly witnessed
by Lord Colambre.
"I deliver this as my act and deed," said Mr. Garraghty;
-"my lord," continued he, "you see, at the first word
from you; and had I known sooner the interest you took
in the family, there would have been no difficulty; for I'd
make it a principle to oblige you, my lord."
"Oblige me!" said Lord Colambre, with disdain.
"But when gentlemen and noblemen travel incognito,
and lodge in cabins," added St. Dennis, with a satanic
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smile, glancing his eye on Grace, "they have good reasons,
no doubt."
"Do not judge my heart by your own, sir," said Lord
Colambre, coolly; "no two things in nature can, I trust,
be more different. My purpose in travelling incognito has
been fully answered: I was determined to see and judge
how my father's estates were managed; and I have seen,
compared, and judged. I have seen the difference between
the Clonbrony and the Colambre property; and I shall
represent what I have seen to my father."
"As to that, my lord, if we are to come to that-but I
trust your lordship will suffer me to explain these matters.
-Go about your business, my good friends; you have all
you want;-and, my lord, after dinner, when you are cool,
I hope I shall be able to make you sensible that things
have been represented to your lordship in a mistaken light;
and I flatter myself I shall convince you I have not only
always acted the part of a friend to the family, but am
particularly willing to conciliate your lordship's goodwill,"
said he, sweeping the rouleaus of gold into a bag; "any
accommodation in my power, at any time."
"I want no accommodation, sir,-were I starving, I
would accept of none from you. Never can you conciliate
my goodwill; for you can never deserve it."
"If that be the case, my lord, I must conduct myself accordingly; but it's fair to warn you, before you make any
representation to my Lord Clonbrony, that if he should
think of changing his agent, there are accounts to be
settled between us-that may be a consideration."
"No, sir; no consideration-my father never shall be
the slave of such a paltry consideration."
"Oh, very well, my lord; you know best. If you choose
to make an assumpsit, I'm sure I shall not object to the
security. Your lordship will be of age soon, I know-I'm
sure I'm satisfied-but," added he with a malicious smile,
"I rather apprehend you don't know what you undertake;
I only promise that the balance of accounts between us is
not what can properly be called a paltry consideration."
"On that point, perhaps, sir, you and I may differ."
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"Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if it suits your convenience."
"Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles."
"Dennis! the letters to the post.-When do you go to
England, my lord?"
"Immediately, sir," said Lord Colambre; his lordship
saw new leases from his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty,
lying on the table, unsigned.
"Immediately! " repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis,
with an air of dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the
window, and whispered something to his brother, who instantly left the room.
Lord Colambre saw the post-chaise at the door, which
had brought Mrs. Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing
beside it; his lordship instantly threw up the sash, and
holding between his finger and thumb a six-shilling piece,
cried, "Larry, my friend, let me have the horses! "
"You shall have 'em-your honour," said Larry. Mr.
Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magisterial tone. "Larry, my brother must have the horses."
"He can't, plase your honour-they're engaged."
"Half a crown!-a crown!-half a guinea!" said Mr.
Dennis Garraghty, raising his voice, as he increased his
proffered bribe. To each offer Larry replied, "You can't
plase your honour, they're engaged ";-and, looking up to
the window at Lord Colambre, he said, "As soon as they
have eaten their oats, you shall have 'em."
No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consternation. Lord Colambre ordered that Larry should
have some dinner, and whilst the postillion was eating, and
the horses finishing their oats, his lordship wrote the following letter to his father, which, to prevent all possibility
of accident, he determined to put, with his own hand, into
the post-office at Clonbrony, as he passed through the town.
MY DEAR FATHER,
I hope to be with you in a few days. Lest anything should
detain me on the road, I write this, to make an earnest request
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to you, that you will not sign any papers, or transact any farther
business with Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis Garraghty, before you
see your affectionate son,              COLAMBRE.
The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready,
and Lord Colambre, having first eaten a slice of his own
venison, ran down to the carriage, followed by the thanks
and blessings of the widow, her son, and daughter, who
could hardly make their way after him to the chaise-door,
so great was the crowd which had gathered on the report
of his lordship's arrival.
"Long life to your honour! Long life to your lordship!" echoed on all sides. "Just come, and going, are
you?"
"Good-bye to you all, good people! "
"Then good-bye is the only word we wouldn't wish to
hear from your honour."
"For the sake both of landlord and tenant, I must leave
you now, my good friends; but I hope to return to you at
some future time."
"God bless you! and speed ye! and a safe journey to
your honour!-and a happy return to us, and soon! " cried
a multitude of voices.
Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door, and beckoned
to the widow O'Neill, before whom others had pressed.
An opening was made for her instantly.
"There! that was the very way his father stood, with
his feet on the steps. And Miss Nugent was in it."
Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say-with
some difficulty recollected.
"This pocket-book," said he, "which your son restored
to me-I intend it for your daughter-don't keep it, as
your son kept it for me, without opening it. Let what is
within-side," added he, as he got into the carriage, "replace
the cloak and gown, and let all things necessary for a bride
be bought; 'for the bride that has all things to borrow has
surely mickle to do.'-Shut the door, and drive on."
"Blessings be wid you," cried the widow, "and God give
you grace! "
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CHAPTER XIII.
LARRY drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good
rate, till he got out of the great gate, and beyond
the sight of the crowd; then, pulling up, he turned
to Lord Colambre-" Plase your honour, I did not know
nor guess ye was my lord, when I let you have the horses;
did not know who you was from Adam, I'll take my
affidavit."
"There's no occasion," said Lord Colambre; "I hope
you don't repent letting me have the horses, now you do
know who I am? "
"Oh! not at all, sure; I'm as glad as the best horse I
ever crossed, that your honour is my lord-but I was only
telling your honour, that you might not be looking upbn
me as a time-sarver."
"I do not look upon you as a time-sarver, Larry; but
keep on, that time may serve me."
In two words, he explained his cause of haste; and no
sooner explained than understood. Larry thundered away
through the town of Clonbrony, bending over his horses,
plying the whip, and lending his very soul at every lash.
With much difficulty, Lord Colambre stopped him at the
end of the town, at the post-office. The post was gone
out-gone a quarter of an hour.
"Maybe we'll overtake the mail," said Larry; and, as
he spoke, he slid down from his seat, and darted into the
public-house, reappearing, in a few moments, with a copper
of ale and a horn in his hand; he and another man held
open the horses' mouths, and poured the ale through the
horn down their throats.
"Now, they'll go with spirit! "
And, with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made
them go "for life or death," as he said; but in vain! At
the next stage, at his own inn-door, Larry roared for fresh
horses till he got them, harnessed them with his own hands,
holding the six-shilling piece, which Lord Colambre had
given him, in his mouth, all the while; for he could not
take time to put it into his pocket.
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"Speed ye! I wish I was driving you aIllthewway, then,"
said he. The other postillion was not yet ready. "Then
your honour sees, " said he, putting his head into the carriage, "consarning of them Garraghties-old Nick and St.
Dennis-the best part, that is the worst part, of what I
told you, proved true; and I'm glad of it, that is, I'm
sorry for it-but glad your honour knows it in time. So
Heaven prosper you! And may all the saints (barring St.
Dennis) have charge of you, and all belonging to you, till
we see you here again!-And when will it be? "
"I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I
will do my best to send your landlord to you soon. In
the meantime, my good fellow, keep away from the sign
of the Horse-shoe-a man of your sense to drink and make
an idiot and a brute of yourself!"
"True1!.-And it was only when I had lost hope I took
to it-but now! Bring me the book, one of yees, out of
the landlady's parlour.-By the virtue of this book, and
by all the books that ever was shut and opened, I won't
touch a drop of spirits, good or bad, till I see your honour
again, or some of the family, this time twelvemonth-that
long I'll live on hope-but mind, if you disappoint me, I
don't swear but I'll take to the whisky, for comfort, all the
rest of my days. But don't be staying here, wasting your
time, advising me. Bartley! take the reins, can't ye?"
cried he, giving them to the fresh postillion; "and keep
on, for your life, for there's thousands of pounds depending on the race-so, off, off, Bartley, with speed of light!"
Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the
roads, that, notwithstanding the rate at which our hero
travelled, he arrived safely in Dublin, and just in time to
put his letter into the post-office, and to sail in that night's
packet. The wind was fair when Lord Colambre went on
board, but before they got out of the bay it changed; they
made no way all night; in the course of the next day, they
had the mortification to see another packet from Dublin
sail past them, and when they landed at Holyhead, were
told the packet, which bad left Ireland twelve hours after
them, had been in an hour before them. The passengers
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had taken their places in the coach, and engaged what
horses could be had. Lord Colambre was afraid that Mr.
Garraghty was one of them; a person exactly answering
his description had taken four horses, and set out half an
hour before in great haste for London. Luckily, just as
those who had taken their places in the mail were getting
into the coach, Lord Colambre saw among them a gentleman, -with whom he had been acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who was come over during the long vacation, to
make a tour of pleasure in England. When Lord Colambre
explained the reason he had for being in haste to reach
London, he had the good-nature to give up to him his
place in the coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night,
and delayed not one moment, till he reached his father's
house in London.
"My father at home?"
"Yes, my lord, in his own room-the agent from Ireland
with him, on particular business-desired not to be interrupted-but I'll go and tell him, my lord, you are come."
Lord Colambre ran past the servant, as he spoke-made
his way into the room--found his father, Sir Terence
O'Fay, and Mr. Garraghty-leases open on the table before them; a candle lighted; Sir Terence sealing; Garraghty emptying a bag of guineas on the table, and Lord
Clonbrony actually with a pen in his hand, ready to sign.
As the door opened, Garraghty started back, so that half
the contents of his bag rolled upon the floor.
"Stop, my dear father, I conjure you," cried Lord Colambre, springing forward, and kneeling to his father; at
the same moment snatching the pen from his hand.
"Colambre! God bless you, my dear boy! at all events.
But how came you here?-And what do you mean?" said
his father.
"Burn it! " cried Sir Terence, pinching the sealing-wax;
"for I burnt myself with the pleasure of the surprise."
Garraghty, without saying a word, was picking up the
guineas that were scattered upon the floor.
"How fortunate I am," cried Lord Colambre, "to have
arrived just in time to tell you, my dear father, before
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you put your signature to these papers, before you conclude this bargain, all I know, all I have seen, of that
man!"
"Nick Garraghty, honest old Nick; do you know him,
my lord? "said Sir Terence.
"Too well, sir."
"Mr. Garraghty, what have you done to offend my son?
I did not expect this,' said Lord Clonbrony.
"Upon my conscience, my lord, nothing to my knowledge," said Mr. Garraghty, picking up the guineas; "but
showed him every civility, even so far as offering to accommodate him with cash without security; and where
will you find the other agent, in Ireland or anywhere else,
will do that? To my knowledge, I never did anything, by
word or deed, to offend my Lord Colambre; nor could not,
for I never saw him, but for ten minutes, in my days; and
then he was in such a foaming passion-begging his lordship's pardon-owing to the misrepresentations he met
with of me, I presume, from a parcel of blackguards that
he went amongst, incognito, he would not let me or my
brother Dennis say a word to set him right; but exposed
me before all the tenantry, and then threw himself into a
hack, and drove off here, to stop the signing of these
leases, I perceive. But I trust," concluded he, putting
the replenished money-bag down with a heavy sound on
the table, opposite to Lord Clonbrony,-"I trust, my
Lord Clonbrony will do me justice; that's all I have to
say.
"I comprehend the force of your last argument fully,
sir," said Lord Colambre. "May I ask how many guineas
there are in the bag? I don't ask whether they are my
father's or not."
"They are to be your lordship's father's, sir, if he thinks
proper," replied Garraghty. "How many, I don't know
that I can justly, positively say-five hundred, suppose."
"And they would be my father's if he signed those leases
-I understand that perfectly, and understand that my
father would lose three times that sum by the bargain.My dear father, you start-but it is true. Is not this the
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rent, sir, at which you were going to let Mr. Garraghty
have the land? " placing a paper before Lord Clonbrony.
"It is-the very thing."
"And here, sir, written with my own hand, are copies of
the proposals I saw, from responsible, respectable tenants,
offered and refused.-Is it so, or is it not, Mr. Garraghty?
-deny it, if you can."
Mr. Garraghty grew pale; his lips quivered; he stammered; and, after a shocking convulsion of face, could at
last articulate-only"That there was a great difference between tenant and
tenant, his lordship must be sensible, especially for so large
a rent."-"As great a difference as between agent and
agent, I am sensible-especially for so large a property! "
said Lord Colambre, with cool contempt. "You find, sir,
I am well informed with regard to this transaction; you
will find, also, that I am equally well informed with respect
to every part of your conduct towards my father and his
tenantry. If, in relating to him what I have seen and
heard, I should make any mistakes, you are here; and I
am glad you are, to set me right, and to do yourself
justice."
"Oh! as to that, I should not presume to contradict
anything your lordship asserts from your own authority:
where would be the use? I leave it all to your lordship.
But, as it is not particularly agreeable to stay to hear one's
self abused-Sir Terence! I'll thank you to hand me my
hat!-And if you'll have the goodness, my Lord Clonbrony, to look over finally the accounts before morning,
I'll call at your leisure to settle the balance, as you find
convenient; as to the leases, I'm quite indifferent."
So saying, he took up his money-bag.
"Well, you'll call again in the morning, Mr. Garraghty!"
said Sir Terence; "and, by that time, I hope we shall
understand this misunderstanding better."
Sir Terence pulled Lord Clonbrony's sleeve: "don't let
him go with the money-it's much wanted! "
"Let him go," said Lord Colambre; "money can be
had by honourable means."


I2


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"Wheugh!-He talks as if he had the Bank of England
at his command, as every young man does," said Sir
Terence.
Lord Colambre deigned no reply.   Lord Clonbrony
walked undecidedly between his agent and his son-looked
at Sir Terence, and said nothing.
Mr. Garraghty departed; Lord Clonbrony called after
him from the head of the stairs"I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning."  Sir
Terence ran downstairs after him; Lord Colambre waited
quietly for their return.
"Fifteen hundred guineas, at a stroke of a goose-quill!That was a neat hit, narrowly missed, of honest Nick's! "
said Lord Clonbrony. "Too bad! too bad, faith!-I am
much, very much obliged to you, Colambre, for that hint;
by to-morrow morning we shall have him in another tune. "
"And he must double the bag, or quit,"'' said Sir Terence.
"Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three times five's
fifteen;-fifteen hundred down, or he does not get my
signature to those leases for his brother, nor get the agency
of the Colambre estate.--Colambre, what more have you
to tell of him? for, since he is making out his accounts
against me, it is no harm to have a per contra against him
that may ease my balance."
"Very fair! very fair!" said Sir Terence. "My lord,
trust me for remembering all the charges against himevery item; and when he can't clear himself, if I don't
make him buy a good character dear enough, why, say I'm
a fool, and don't know the value of, character, good or
bad! "
"If you know the value of character, Sir Terence," said
Lord Colambre, "you know that it is not to be bought or
sold." Then, turning from Sir Terence to his father, he
gave a full and true account of all he had seen in his progress through his Irish estates; and drew a faithful picture
both of the bad and good agent. Lord Clonbrony, who
had benevolent feelings, and was fond of his tenantry, was
touched; and, when his son ceased speaking, repeated
several times194




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"Rascal! rascal! How dare he use my tenants so-the
O'Neills in particular!-Rascal! bad heart!-I'll have no
more to do with him." But, suddenly recollecting himself, he turned to Sir Terence, and added, "That's sooner
said than done-  I'll tell you honestly, Colambre, your
friend Mr. Burke may be the best man in the world-but
he is the worst man to apply to for a remittance, or a loan,
in a HURRY! He always tells me 'he can't distress the
tenants.' "-"And he never, at coming into the agency
even," said Sir Terence, "advanced a good round sum to
the landlord, by way of security for his good behaviour.
Now honest Nick did that much for us at coming in."
"And at going out is he not to be repaid?" said Lord
Colambre.
"That's the devil!" said Lord Clonbrony; "that's the
very reason I can't conveniently turn him out."
"I will make it convenient to you, sir, if you will permit
me," said Lord Colambre. "In a few days I shall be of
age, and will join with you in raising whatever sum you
want, to free you from this man. Allow me to look over
his account; and whatever the honest balance may be, let
him have it."
"My dear boy!" said Lord Clonbrony, "you're a generous fellow. Fine Irish heart!-glad you're my son! But
there's more, much more, that you don't know," added
he, looking at Sir Terence, who cleared his throat; and
Lord Clonbrony, who was on the point of opening all his
affairs to his son, stopped short.
"Colambre," said he, "we will not say anything more
of this at present; for nothing effectual can be done till
you are of age, and then we shall see all about it."
Lord Colambre perfectly understood what his father
meant, and what was meant by the clearing of Sir Terence's
throat. Lord Clonbrony wanted his son to join him in
opening the estate to pay his debts; and Sir Terence feared
that, if Lord Colambre were abruptly told the whole sum
total of the debts, he would never be persuaded to join
in selling or mortgaging so much of his patrimony as would
be necessary for their payment. Sir Terence thought that
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the young man, ignorant probably of business, and unsuspicious of the state of his father's affairs, might be
brought, by proper management, to any measures they
desired. Lord Clonbrony wavered between the temptation
to throw himself upon the generosity of his son, and the
immediate convenience of borrowing a sum of money from
his agent, to relieve his present embarrassments.
"Nothing can be settled," repeated he, "till Colambre is
of age; so it doestlot signify talking of it."
"Why so, sir? " said Lord Colambre. "Though my act,
in law, may not be valid, till I am of age, my promise, as
a man of honour, is binding now; and, I trust, would be
as satisfactory to my father as any legal deed whatever."
"Undoubtedly, my dear boy; but--
"But what? " said Lord Colambre, following his father's
eye, which turned to Sir Terence O'Fay, as if asking his
permission to explain.
"As my father's friend, sir, you ought, permit me to
say, at this moment to use your influence to prevail upon
him to throw aside all reserve with a son, whose warmest
wish is to serve him, and to see him at ease and happy."
"Generous, dear boy," cried Lord Clonbrony. "Terence,
I can't stand it; but how shall I bring myself to name the
amount of the debts? "
"At some time or other, I must know it," said Lord
Colambre; "I cannot be better prepared at any moment
than the present; never more disposed to give my assistance to relieve all difficulties. Blindfold, I cannot be led
to any purpose, sir," said he, looking at Sir Terence; "the
attempt would be degrading and futile. Blindfolded I will
not be-but, with my eyes open, I will see, and go straight
and prompt as heart can go, to my father's interest, without a look or thought to my own."
"By St. Patrick! the spirit of a prince, and an Irish
prince, spoke there," cried Sir Terence; "and if I'd fifty
hearts, you'd have all in your hand this minute, at your
service, and warm. Blindfold you! after that, the man
that would attempt it desarves to be shot; and I'd have
no sincerer pleasure in life than shooting him this moment,
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was he my best friend.  But it 's not Clonbrony, your
father, my lord, would act that way, no more than Sir
Terence O'Fay-there's the schedule of the debts," drawing a paper from his bosom; "and I'll swear to the lot, and
not a man on earth could do that but myself."
Lord Colambre opened the paper. His father turned
aside, covering his face with both his hands.
"Tut, man," said Sir Terence; "I know him now better
than you; he will stand, you'll find, thoshock of that regiment of figures-he is steel to the backbone, and proof
spirit."
"I thank you, my dear father," said Lord Colambre,
"for trusting me thus at once with a view of the truth.
At first sight it is, I acknowledge, worse than I expected;
but I make no doubt that, when you allow me to examine
Mr. Garraghty's accounts and Mr. Mordicai's claims, we
shall be able to reduce this alarming total considerably, my
dear father. You think we learn nothing but Latin and
Greek at Cambridge; but you are mistaken."
"The devil a pound, nor a penny," said Sir Terence;
"for you have to deal with a Jew and old Nick; and I'm
not a match for them. I don't know who is; and I have
no hope of getting any abatement. I've looked over the
accounts till I'm sick."
"Nevertheless, you will observe that fifteen hundred
guineas have been saved to my father, at one stroke, by
his not signing those leases."
"Saved to you, my lord; not your father, if you plase,"
said Sir Terence. "For now I'm upon the square with
you, I must be straight as an arrow, and deal with you
as the son and friend of my friend; before, I was considering you only as the son and heir, which is quite another thing, you know; accordingly, acting for your father
here, I was making the best bargain against you I could;
honestly, now, I tell you. I knew the value of the lands
well enough; we were as sharp as Garraghty, and he knew
it; we were to have had the difference from him, partly in
cash and partly in balance of accounts-you comprehendand you only would have been the loser, and never would
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have known it, maybe, till after we all were dead and
buried; and then you might have set aside Garraghty's
lease easy, and no harm done to any but a rogue that desarved it; and, in the meantime, an accommodation to my
honest friend, my lord, your father, here. But, as fate
would have it, you upset all by your progress incognito
through them estates. Well, it's best as it is, and I am
better pleased to be as we are, trusting all to a generous
son's own heart. Now put the poor father out of pain,
and tell us what you'll do, my dear."
"In one word, then," said-Lord Colambre, "I will, upon
two conditions, either join my father in levying fines to
enable him to sell or mortgage whatever portion of his
estate is necessary for the payment of these debts; or I
will, in whatever other mode he can point out, as more
agreeable or more advantageous to him, join in giving
security to his creditors."
"Dear, noble fellow! " cried Sir Terence; "none but an
Irishman could do it."
Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate,
but held his arms open to embrace his son.
"But you have not heard my conditions yet," said Lord
Colambre.
"Oh, confound the conditions! " cried Sir Terence.
"What conditions could he ask that I could refuse at
this minute? " said Lord Clonbrony.
"Nor I-was it my heart's blood, and were I to be
hanged for it," cried Sir Terence. "And what are the
conditions?"
"That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from    the
agency."
"And welcome, and glad to get rid of him-the rogue,
the tyrant," said Lord Clonbrony; "and, to be beforehand
with you in your next wish, put Mr. Burke into his place."
"I'll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this
minute," cried Terry, "with all the pleasure in life. No;
it's my Lord Colambre should do that in all justice."
"But what's your next condition? I hope it's no worse,"
said Lord Clonbrony.
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"That you and my mother should cease to be absentees."
"Oh murder! " said Sir Terence; "maybe that's not so
easy; for there are two words to that bargain."
Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was
ready to return to Ireland next morning, and to promise to
reside on his estate all the rest of his days; that there was
nothing he desired more, provided Lady Clonbrony would
consent to it; but that he could not promise for her; that
she was as obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had
often tried, but that there was no moving her; and that, in
short, he could not promise on her part.
But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he
must insist. Without this condition was granted, he would
not engage to do anything.
"Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes
to town; she will come up from Buxton the day you're of
age to sign some papers," said Lord Clonbrony; "but,"
added he, with a very dejected look and voice, "if all's to
depend on my Lady Clonbrony's consenting to return to
Ireland, I'm as far from all hope of being at ease as
ever.
"Upon my conscience, we're all at sea again," said Sir
Terence.
Lord Colambre was silent: but in his silence there was
such an air of firmness, that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir
Terence were convinced entreaties would on this point be
fruitless-Lord Clonbrony sighed deeply.
"But when it's ruin or safety, and her husband and all
belonging to her at stake, the woman can't persist in being
a mule," said Sir Terence.
"Of whom are you talking?" said Lord Colambre.
"Of whom?    Oh, I beg your lordship's pardon - I
thought I was talking to my lord; but, in other words, as
you are her son, I'm persuaded her ladyship, your mother,
will prove herself a reasonable woman-when she sees she
can't help it. So, my Lord Clonbrony, cheer up; a great
deal may be done by the fear of Mordicai, and an execution, especially now the prior creditor. Since there's no
reserve between you and I now, my Lord Colambre," said
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Sir Terence, "I must tell you all, and how we shambled on
those months while you were in Ireland. First, Mordicai
went to law, to prove I was in a conspiracy with your
father, pretending to be prior creditor, to keep him off and
out of his own; which, after a world of swearing and lawlaw always takes time to do justice, that's one comfortthe villain proved at last to be true enough, and so cast us;
and I was forced to be paid off last week. So there's no
prior creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then
his execution was coming down upon us, and nothing to
stay it till I thought of a monthly annuity to Mordicai, in
the shape of a wager. So, the morning after he cast us, I
went to him: 'Mr. Mordicai,' says I, 'you must be plased
to see a man you've beaten so handsomely; and though
I'm sore, both for myself and my friend, yet you see I can
laugh still; though an execution is no laughing matter, and
I'm sinsible you've one in petto in your sleeve for my
friend Lord Clonbrony. But I'll lay you a wager of a
hundred guineas in paper that a marriage of his son with a
certain heiress, before next Lady-day, will set all to rights,
and pay you with a compliment too.' "
"Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such
thing?"$
"I did-but what was it but a wager? which is nothing
but a dream; and, when lost, as I am as sinsible as you are
that it must be, why, what is it, after all, but a bonus, in
a gentleman-like form, to Mordicai? which, I grant you,
is more than he deserves, for staying the execution till you
be of age; and even for my Lady Clonbrony's sake, though
I know she hates me like poison, rather than have her disturbed by an execution, I'd pay the hundred guineas this
minute out of my own pocket, if I had 'em in it."
A thundering knock at the door was heard at this
moment.
"Never heed it; let 'em thunder," said Sir Terence;
"whoever it is, they won't get in; for my lord bid them
let none in for their life. It's necessary for us to be very
particular about the street-door now; and I advise a double
chain for it, and to have the footmen well tutored to look
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before they run to a double rap; for a double rap might be
a double trap."
"My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord," said a footman,
throwing open the door.
"My mother! Miss Nugent!" cried Lord Colambre,
springing eagerly forward.
"Colambre! here! " said his mother; "but it's all too
late now, and no matter where you are."
Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her;
and he, without considering the coldness of her manner,
scarcely hearing, and not at all understanding the words she
said, fixed his eyes on his cousin, who, with a countenance
all radiant with affectionate joy, held out her hand to him.
"Dear cousin Colambre, what an unexpected pleasure! "
He seized the hand; but, as he was going to kiss it, the
recollection of St. Omiar crossed his mind; he checked himself, and said something about joy and pleasure, but his
countenance expressed neither; and Miss Nugent, much
surprised by the coldness of his manner, withdrew her
hand, and, turning away, left the room.
"Grace! darling!" called Lord Clonbrony, "whither so
fast, before you've given me a word or a kiss? "
She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded
her in his arms. "Why must I let you go? And what
makes you so pale, my dear child?"
"I am a little-a little tired. I will be with you again
soon.
Her uncle let her go.
"Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed
with her, by all I can see," said Lord Clonbrony.
"My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but
I know what is to blame, and who is to blame," said Lady
Clonbrony, in a tone of displeasure, fixing her eyes upon
her son. "Yes, you may well look confounded, Colambre;
but it is too late now-you should have known your own
mind in time. I see you have heard it, then-but I am
sure I don't know how; for it was only decided the day I
left Buxton. The news could hardly travel faster than I
did. Pray, how did you hear it? "
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"Hear what, ma'am?" said Lord Colambre.
"Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married."
"Oh, is that all, ma'am!" said our hero, much relieved.
"All! Now, Lord Colambre, you reedly are too much
for my patience. But I flatter myself you will feel, when
I tell you, that it is your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, as I
always prophesied, who has carried off the prize from you."
"But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should
say, that I do feel sincere pleasure in this marriage-I always wished it: my friend, Sir Arthur, from the first
moment, trusted me with the secret of his attachment; he
knew that he had my warm good wishes for his success; he
knew that I thought most highly of the young lady; but
that I never thought of her as a wife for myself."
"And why did not you? that is the very thing I complain of," said Lady Clonbrony. "But it is all over now.
You may set your heart at ease, for they are to be married
on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst is ready to break
her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for her daughter;
and you, ungrateful as you are, you don't know how she
wished you to be the happy man. But only conceive,
after all that has passed, Miss Broadhurst had the assurance
to expect I would let my niece be her bridesmaid. Oh, I
flatly refused; that is, I told Grace it could not be; and,
that there might be no affront to Mrs. Broadhurst, who
did not deserve it, I pretended Grace had never mentioned
it; but ordered my carriage, and left Buxton directly.
Grace was hurt, for she is very warm in her friendships. I
am sorry to hurt Grace. But reelly I could not let her be
bridesmaid;-and that, if you must know, is what vexed
her, and made the tears come in her eyes, I suppose-and
I'm sorry for it; but one must keep up one's dignity a
little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen-and
reelly now, a very odd girl; never did anything like anybody else; settled her marriage at last in the oddest way.
Grace, can you tell the particulars? I own, I am tired of
the subject, and tired of my journey. My lord, I shall
take leave to dine in my own room to-day," continued her
ladyship, as she quitted the room.
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"I hope her ladyship did not notice me," said Sir Terence
O'Fay, coming from behind a window-curtain.
"Why, Terry, what did you hide for? " said Lord Clonbrony.
"Hide! I did n't hide, nor wouldn't from any man living, let alone any woman.' Hide! no; but I just stood
looking out of the window, behind this curtain, that my
poor Lady Clonbrony might not be discomfited and shocked
by the sight of one whom she can't abide, the very minute
she come home. Oh, I've some consideration-it would
have put her out of humour worse with both of you too;
and for that there 's no need, as far as I see. So I'll take
myself off to my coffee-house to dine, and maybe you may
get her down and into spirits again. But, for your lives,
don't touch upon Ireland the night, nor till she has fairly
got the better of the marriage. Apropos-there's my wager
to Mordicai gone at a slap. It's I that ought to be scolding you, my Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as
well yet, not in point of purse, maybe. But I'm not one
of those that think that money's everything-though, I
grant you, in this world, there's nothing to be had without
it-love excepted-which most people don't believe inbut not I-in particular cases. So I leave you, with my
blessing, and I've a notion, at this time, that is better than
my company-your most devoted--"
The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded
by Lord Clonbrony to stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre
as he went out of the room, he said, "I've an eye, in going, to your heart's ease too. When I played myself, I
never liked standers-by."
Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he
never could help boasting of his discoveries.
Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure;
and followed his equally judicious advice, not to touch
upon Ireland this night.
Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to
be relieved from the necessity of talking; and he indulged
himself in considering what might be passing in Miss
1 Leaving any woman out of the question.
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Nugent's mind. She now appeared in remarkably good
spirits; for her aunt had given her a hint that she thought
her out of humour because she had not been permitted to
be Miss Broadhurst's bridesmaid, and she was determined
to exert herself to dispel this notion. This it was now
easy for her to do, because she had, by this time, in her
own imagination, found a plausible excuse for that coldness in Lord Colambre's reception of her, by which she had
at first been hurt; she had settled it, that he had taken it
for granted she was of his mother's sentiments respecting
Miss Broadhurst's marriage, and that this idea, and perhaps the apprehension of her reproaches, had caused his
embarrassment-she knew that she could easily set this
misunderstanding right. Accordingly, when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep about Buxton, and was
taking her afternoon's nap, as it was her custom to do
when she had neither cards nor company to keep her
awake, Miss Nugent began to explain her own sentiments,
and to give Lord Colambre, as her aunt had desired, an
account of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst's marriage
had been settled.
"In the first place," said she, "let me assure you that I
rejoice in this marriage; I think your friend, Sir Arthur
Berryl, is every way deserving of my friend, Miss Broadhurst; and this from me," said she, smiling, "is no slight
eulogium. I have marked the rise and progress of their
attachment; and it has been founded on the perception of
such excellent qualities on each side, that I have no fear
for its permanence. Sir Arthur Berryl's honourable conduct in paying his father's debts, and his generosity to his
mother and sisters, whose fortunes were left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my friend. It was like
what she would have done herself, and like-in short, it is
what few young men, as she said, of the present day would
do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his
going without equipage and without horses, that he might
do what he felt to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule of fashionable young men, or to the
charge of avarice, made a very different impression on
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Miss Broadhurst's mind; her esteem and admiration were
excited by these proofs of strength of character, and of
just and good principles."
"If you go on, you will make me envious and jealous of
my friend," said Lord Colambre.
"You jealous!-Oh, it is too late now-besides, you
cannot be jealous, for you never loved."
"I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge."
"There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over
you-he loved, and my friend saw it."
"She was clear-sighted," said Lord Colambre.
"She was clear-sighted," repeated Miss Nugent; "but
if you mean that she was vain, and apt to fancy people in
love with her, I can assure you that you are mistaken.
Never was woman, young or old, more clear-sighted to the
views of those by whom she was addressed. No flattery,
no fashion, could blind her judgment."
"She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure,"
said Lord Colambre.
"And a friend for life too, I am sure you will allow-and
she had such numbers, such strange variety of admirers,
as might have puzzled the choice and turned the brain of
any inferior person. Such a succession of lovers as she has
had this summer, ever since you went to Ireland-they appeared and vanished like figures in a magic-lantern. She
had three noble admirers-rank in three different forms
offered themselves. First came in, hobbling, rank and
gout; next, rank and gaming; then rank, very high rank,
over head and ears in debt. All of these were rejected;
and, as they moved off, I thought Mrs. Broadhurst would
have broken her heart. Next came fashion, with his head,
heart, and soul in his cravat-he quickly made his bow, or
rather his nod, and wvalked off, taking a pinch of snuff.
Then came a man of gallantry, but," whispered Miss
Nugent, " there was a mistress in the wood; and my friend
could have nothing to do with that gentleman."
"Now, if she liked the man," interrupted Lord Clonbrony, "and I suppose she did, for all women, but yourself, Grace, like men of gallantry, Miss Broadhurst was a
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goose for refusing him on account of the mistress; because
she might have been bought up, and settled with a few
thousand pounds."
"Be that as it may," said Miss Nugent; "my friend did
not like, and would not accept, of the man of gallantry;
so he retired and comforted himself with a copy of verses.
Then came a man of wit-but still it was wit without
worth; and presently came 'worth without wit.' She preferred 'wit and worth united,' which she fortunately at last
found, Lord Colambre, in your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl."
"Grace, my girl!" said her uncle, "I'm glad to see
you've got up your spirits again, though you were not to be
bridesmaid. Well, I hope you'll be bride soon-I'm sure
you ought to be-and you should think of rewarding that
poor Mr. Salisbury, who plagues me to death, whenever
he can catch hold of me, about you. He must have our
definitive at last, you know, Grace."
A silence ensued, which neither Miss Nugent nor Lord
Colambre seemed willing, or able, to break.
"Very good company, faith, you three!-One of ye
asleep, and the other two saying nothing, to keep one
awake. Colambre, have you no Dublin news? Grace,
have you no Buxton scandal? What was it Lady Clonbrony told us you'd tell us, about the oddness of Miss
Broadhurst's settling her marriage? Tell me that, for I
love to hear odd things."
"Perhaps you will not think it odd," said she. "One
evening-but I should begin by telling you that three of
her admirers, beside Sir Arthur Berryl, had followed her to
Buxton, and had been paying their court to her all the
time we were there; and at last grew impatient for her
decision."
"Ay, for her definitive! " said Lord Clonbrony. Miss
Nugent was put out again, but resumed"So one evening, just before the dancing began, the
gentlemen were all standing round Miss Broadhurst; one
of them said, 'I wish Miss Broadhurst would decide-that
whoever she dances with to-night should be her partner
for life; what a happy man he would be!'
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'First came:in, hobbling, rank-and gout; next, rank and gaming.'








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'But how can I decide?' said Miss Broadhurst.
' I wish I had a friend to plead for me!' said one of
the suitors, looking at me.
" 'Have you no friend of your own?' said Miss Broadhurst.0
"'Plenty of friends,' said the gentleman.
"'Plenty!-then you must be a. very happy man,' replied Miss Broadhurst. 'Come,' said she, laughing, 'I wvill
dance with that man who can convince me-that he has,
near relations excepted, one true friend in the world!
That man wvho has made the best friend, I dare say, will
make the best husband!'
"At that moment," continued Miss Nugent, "I was
certain who would be her choice. The gentlemen all declared at first that they had abundance of excellent friends
-the best friends in the world! but when Miss Broadhurst
cross-examined them, as to what their friends had done for
them, or what they were willing to do, modern friendship
dwindled into a ridiculously small compass. I cannot give
you the particulars of the cross-examination, though it was
conducted with great spirit and humour by Miss Broadhurst; but I can tell you the result-that Sir Arthur
Berryl, by incontrovertible facts, and eloquence warm
from the heart, convinced everybody present that he had
the best friend in the world; and Miss Broadhurst, as he
finished speaking, gave him her hand, and he led her off
in triumph--So you see, Lord Colambre, you were at
last the cause of my friend's marriage! "
She turned to Lord Golambre as she spoke these words,
with such an affectionate smile, and such an expression of
open, inmost tenderness in her whole countenance, that
our hero could hardly resist the impulse of his passioncould hardly restrain himself from falling at her feet that
instant, and declaring his love. "But St. Omar! St.
Omar!-It must not be! "
"I must be gone!" said Lord Clonbrony, pulling out
his watch. "It is time to go to my club; and poor Terry
will wonder what has become of me."
Lord Colambre instantly offered to accompany his father;
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much to Lord Clonbrony's, and more to Miss Nugent's
surprise.
"What!" said she to herself, "after so long an absence,
leave me!-Leave his mnother, with whom he always used
to stay-on purpose to avoid me! What can I have done
to displease him? It is clear it was not about Miss Broadhurst's marriage he was offended; for he looked pleased,
and like himself, whilst I was talking of that; but the moment afterwards, what a constrained, unintelligible expression of countenance-and leaves me to go to a club
which he detests!"
As the gentlemen shut the door on leaving the room,
Lady Clonbrony wakened, and, starting up, exclaimed"What's the matter? Are they gone? Is Colambre
gone?"
"Yes, ma'am, with my uncle."
"Very odd! very odd of him to go and leave me! he
always used to stay with me-what did he say about me?"
"Nothing, ma'am."
"Well, then, I have nothing to say about him, or about
anything, indeed, for I'm excessively tired and stupidalone in Lon'on's as bad as anywhere else. Ring the bell,
and we'll go to bed directly-if you have no objection,
Grace.'"
Grace made no objection; Lady Clonbrony went to bed
and to sleep in ten minutes. Miss Nugent went to bed;
but she lay awake, considering what could be the cause of
her cousin Colambre's hard unkindness, and of "his altered
eye." She was openness itself; and she determined that,
the first moment she could speak to him alone, she would
at once ask for an explanation. With this resolution, she
rose in the morning, and went down to the breakfast-room,
in hopes of meeting him, as it had formerly been his custom to be early; and she expected to find him reading in
his usual place.


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CHAPTER XIV.
N   O--Lord Colambre was not in his accustomed place,
reading in the.breakfast-room: nor did he make his
appearance till both his father and mother had been
some time at breakfast.
"Good morning to you, my Lord Colambre," said his
mother, in a reproachful tone, the moment he entered;
"I am much obliged to you for your company last night."
"Good morning to you, Colambre," said his father, in a
more jocose tone of reproach; "I am obliged to you for
your good company last night."
"Good morning to you, Lord Colambre," said Miss
Nugent; and though she endeavoured to throw all reproach from her looks, and to let none be heard in her
voice, yet there was a slight tremulous motion in that
voice which struck our hero to the heart.
"I thank you, ma'am, for missing me," said he, addressing himself to his mother; "I stayed away but half an
hour; I accompanied my father to St. James's Street, and
when I returned I found that every one had retired to
rest."
"Oh, was that the case?'' said Lady Clonbrony; " I own
I thought it very unlike you to leave me in that sort of
way.
"And, lest you should be jealous of that half-hour when
he was accompanying me," said Lord Clonbrony, "I must
remark, that, though I had his body with me, I had none
of his mind; that he left at home with you ladies, or with
some fair one across the water, for the deuce of two words
did he bestow upon me, with all his pretence of accompanying me."
"Lord Colambre seems to have a fair chance of a pleasant
breakfast," said Miss Nugent, smiling; "reproaches on all
sides."
"I have heard none on your side, Grace," said Lord
Clonbrony; "and that's the reason, I suppose, he wisely
takes his seat beside you. But, come, we will not badger
you any more, my dear boy. We have given him as fine


14


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a complexion amongst us as if he had been out hunting
these three hours; have not we, Grace?"
"When Colambre has been a season or two more in
Lon'on, he'll not be so easily put out of countenance,"
said Lady Clonbrony; "'you don't see young men of fashion
here blushing about nothing."
"No, nor about anything, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony; "but that's no proof they do nothing they ought
to blush for."
"What they do, there's no occasion for ladies to inquire,"
said Lady Clonbrony; "but this I know, that it's a great
disadvantage to a young man of a certain rank to blush;
for no people, who live in a certain set, ever do; and it is
the most opposite thing possible to a certain air, which, I
own, I think Colambre wants; and now that he has done
travelling in Ireland, which is no use in pint of giving a
gentleman a travelled air, or anything of that sort, I hope
he will put himself under my conduct for next winter's
campaign in town."
Lord Clonbrony looked as if he did not know how to
look; and, after drumming on the table for some seconds,
said"''Colambre, I told you how it would be. That's a fatal
hard condition of yours."
"Not a hard condition, I hope, my dear father," said
Lord Colambre.
"Hard it must be, since it can't be fulfilled, or won't be
fulfilled, which comes to the same thing," replied Lord
Clonbrony, sighing.
"I am persuaded, sir, that it will be fulfilled," said Lord
Colambre; "I am persuaded that, when my mother hears
the truth, and the whole truth-when she finds that your
happiness, and the happiness of her whole family, depend
upon her yielding her taste on one subject- "
"Oh, I see now what you are about," cried Lady Clonbrony; "you are coming round with your persuasions and
prefaces to ask me to give up Lon'on, and go back with
you to Ireland, my lord. You may save yourselves the
trouble, all of you, for no earthly persuasions shall make




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me do it. I will never give up my taste on that pint. My
happiness has a right to be as much considered as your
father's, Colambre, or anybody's; and, in one word, I
won't do it," cried she, rising angrily from the breakfasttable.
"There! did not I tell you how it would be?" cried
Lord Clonbrony.
"My mother has not heard me, yet," said Lord Colambre, laying his hand upon his mother's arm, as she
attempted to pass; "hear me, madam, for your own sake.
You do not know what will happen, this very day-this
very hour, perhaps-if you do not listen to me."
"And what will happen?" said Lady Clonbrony, stopping short.
"Ay, indeed; she little knows," said Lord Clonbrony,
"what's hanging over her head."
"Hanging over my head?" said Lady Clonbrony, looking up; "nonsense!-what? "
"An execution, madam! " said Lord Colambre.
"Gracious me! an execution!" said Lady Clonbrony,
sitting down again; "but I heard you talk of an execution
months ago, my lord, before my son went to Ireland, and
it blew over-I heard no more of it."
"It won't blow over now," said Lord Clonbrony;
"you'll hear more of it now. Sir Terence O'Fay it was,
you may remember, that settled it then."
"Well, and can't he settle it now? Send for him, since
he understands these cases; and I will ask him to dinner
myself, for your sake, and be very civil to him, my lord."
"All your civility, either for my sake or your own, will
not signify a straw, my dear, in this case-anything that
poor Terry could do, he'd do, and welcome, without it;
but he can do nothing."
"Nothing!-that's very extraordinary. But I'm clear
no one dare to bring a real execution against us in earnest;
and you are only trying to frighten me to your purpose,
like a child; but it shan't do."
"Very well, my dear; you'll see-too late."
A knock at the house door.
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"Who is it?-What is it?" cried Lord Clonbrony, growing very pale.
Lord Colambre changed colour too, and ran downstairs.
"Don't let'em let anybody in, for your life, Colambre; under
any pretence," cried Lord Clonbrony, calling from the
head of the stairs; then running to the window, "By all
that's good, it's Mordicai himself! and the people with
him."
"Lean your head on me, my dear aunt," said Miss
Nugent.   Lady Clonbrony leant back, trembling, and
ready to faint.
"But he's walking off now; the rascal could not get insafe for the present! " cried Lord Clonbrony, rubbing his
hands, and repeating, "safe for the present! "
"Safe for the present! " repeated Lord Colambre, coming again into the room. "Safe for the present hour."
"He could not get in, I suppose-oh, I warned all the
servants well," said Lord Clonbrony, "and so did Terry.
Ay, there 's the rascal, Mordicai, walking off, at the end
of the street; I know his walk a mile off. Gad! I can
breathe again. I am glad he's gone. But he will come
back and always lie in wait, and some time or other, when
we're off our guard (unawares), he'll slide in."
"Slide in! Oh, horrid! " cried Lady Clonbrony, sitting
up, and wiping away the water which Miss Nugent had
sprinkled on her face.
"Were you much alarmed?" said Lord Colambre, with
a voice of tenderness, looking at his mother first, but his
eyes fixing on Miss Nugent.
"Shockingly!" said Lady Clonbrony; "I never thought
it would reelly come to this."
"It will really come to much more, my dear," said Lord
Clonbrony, "that you may depend upon, unless you prevent it."
"Lord! what can I do?-I know nothing of business;
how should I, Lord Clonbrony; but I know there's Colambre-I was always told that when he was of age everything should be settled; and why can't he settle it when
he's upon the spot? "
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"And upon one condition, I will," cried Lord Colambre;
"at what loss to myself, my dear mother, I need not mention."
"Then I will mention it," cried Lord Clonbrony; "at
the loss it will be of nearly half the estate he would have
had, if we had not spent it."
"Loss! Oh, I am excessively sorry my son's to be at
such a loss-it must not be."
"It cannot be otherwise," said Lord Clonbrony; "nor
it can't be this way either, my Lady Clonbrony, unless
you comply with his condition, and consent to return to
Ireland."
"I cannot-I will not," replied Lady Clonbrony. "Is
this your condition, Colambre?-I take it exceedingly ill
of you. I think it very unkind, and unhandsome, and ungenerous, and undutiful of you, Colambre; you, my son! "
She poured forth a torrent of reproaches; then came to
entreaties and tears. But our hero, prepared for this, had
steeled his mind; and he stood resolved not to indulge his
own feelings, or to yield to caprice or persuasion, but to
do that which he knew was best for the happiness of hundreds of tenants who depended upon them-best for both
his father and his mother's ultimate happiness and respectability.
"It's all in vain," cried Lord Clonbrony; "I have no
resource but one, and I must condescend now to go to him
this minute, for Mordicai will be back and seize all-I
must sign and leave all to Garraghty."
"Well, sign, sign, my lord, and settle with Garraghty.Colambre, I've heard all the complaints you brought over
against that man. My lord spent half the night telling
them to me; but all agents are bad, I suppose; at any rate
I can't help it-sign, sign, my lord; he has money-yes,
do; go and settle with him, my lord."
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same
moment, stopped Lord Clonbrony as he was quitting the
room, and then approached Lady Clonbrony with supplicating looks; but she turned her head to the other side,
and, as if putting away their entreaties, made a repelling
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motion with both her hands, and exclaimed, "No, Grace
Nugent!-no, Colambre-no-no, Colambre! I'll never
hear of leaving Lon'on-there's no living out of Lon'onI can't, I won't live out of Lon'on, I say."
Her son saw that the Londonomania was now stronger
than ever upon her, but resolved to make one desperate
appeal to her natural feelings, which, though smothered,
he could not believe were wholly extinguished; he caught
her repelling hands, and pressing them with respectful
tenderness to his lips" Oh, my dear mother, you once loved your son,"'' said he;
"loved him better than anything in this world; if one spark
of affection for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him,
if he pass the bounds-bounds he never passed before-of
filial duty. Mother, in compliance with your wishes my
father left Ireland-left his home, his duties, his friends,
his natural connexions, and for many years he has lived in
England, and you have spent many seasons in London."
"Yes, in the very best company-in the very first
circles," said Lady Clonbrony; "cold as the high-bred
English are said to be in general to strangers."
'"Yes,'' replied Lord Colambre; "the very best company
(if you mean the most fashionable) have accepted of our
entertainments. We have forced our way into their frozen
circles; we have been permitted to breathe in these elevated regions of fashion; we have it to say, that the duke
of this, and my lady that, are of our acquaintance. We
may say more; we may boast that we have vied with those
whom we could never equal. And at what expense have
we done all this? For a single season, the last winter (I
will go no farther), at the expense of a great part of your
timber, the growth of a century-swallowed in the entertainments of one winter in London! Our hills to be bare
for another half century to come! But let the trees go; I
think more of your tenants-of those left under the tyranny
of a bad agent, at the expense of every comfort, every
hope they enjoyed!-tenants, who were thriving and prosperous; who used to smile upon you, and to bless you
both! In one cottage, I have seen-- "
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Here Lord Clonbrony, unable to restrain his emotion,
hurried out of the room.
"Then I am sure it is not my fault," said Lady Clonbrony; "for I brought my lord a large fortune; and I am
confident I have not, after all, spent more any season, in
the best company, than he has among a set of low people,
in his muddling, discreditable way."
"And how has he been reduced to this? " said Lord Colambre. "Did he not formerly live with gentlemen, his
equals, in his own country; his contemporaries? Men of
the first station and character, whom I met in Dublin,
spoke of him in a manner that gratified the heart of his
son; he was respectable and respected at his own home;
but* when he was forced away from that home, deprived
of his objects, his occupations induced him to live in London, or at watering-places, where he could find no employments that were suitable to him-set down, late in
life, in the midst of strangers, to him cold and reservedhimself too proud to bend to those who disdained him as
an Irishman-is he not more to be pitied than blamed for
-yes, I, his son, must say the word-the degradation
which has ensued? And do not the feelings, which have
this moment forced him to leave the room, show that he
is capable?-Oh, mother! " cried Lord Colambre, throwing
himself at Lady Clonbrony's feet, "restore my father to
himself! Should such feelings be wasted?-No; give them
again to expand in benevolent, in kind, useful actions;
give him again to his tenantry, his duties, his country, his
home; return to that home yourself, dear mother! leave
all the nonsense of high life-scorn the impertinence of
these dictators of fashion, by whom, in return for all the
pains we take to imitate, to court them-in return for the
sacrifice of health, fortune, peace of mind, they bestow
sarcasm, contempt, ridicule, and mimicry!"
"Oh, Colambre! Colambre! mimicry-I'll never believe
it."
"Believe me-believe me, mother; for I speak of what
I know.   Scorn them-quit them! Return to an unsophisticated people-to poor, but grateful hearts, still
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warm with the remembrance of your kindness, still blessing you for favours long since conferred, ever praying to
see you once more. Believe me, for I speak of what I
know-your son has heard these prayers, has felt these
blessings. Here! at my heart felt, and still feel them,
when I was not known to be your son, in the cottage of
the widow O'Neill."
"Oh, did you see the widow O'Neill? and does she remember me? " said Lady Clonbrony.
"Remember you! and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept
in the bed-I would tell you more, but I cannot."
"Well! I never should have thought they would have
remembered me so long!-poor people! " said Lady Clonbrony. "I thought all in Ireland must have forgotten me,
it is now so long since I was at home."
"You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can.
answer for that. Return home, my dearest mother-let
me see you once more among your natural friends, beloved,
respected, happy!"
"Oh, return! let us return home!" cried Miss Nugent,
with a voice of great emotion. "Return, let us return
home! My beloved aunt, speak to us!-say that you
grant our request! "
She kneeled beside Lord Colambre, as she spoke.
"Is it possible to resist that voice-that look?" thought
Lord Colambre.
"If anybody knew," said Lady Clonbrony, "if anybody
could conceive, how I detest the sight, the thoughts of
that old yellow damask furniture, in the drawing-room at
Clonbrony Castle--"
"Good heavens! " cried Lord Colambre, starting up, and
looking at his mother in stupefied astonishment; "is that
what you are thinking of, ma'am?"
"The yellow damask furniture! " said her niece, smiling.
"Oh, if that's all, that shall never offend your eyes again.
Aunt, my painted velvet chairs are finished; and trust the
furnishing that room to me. The legacy lately left me
cannot be better applied-you shall see how beautifully it
will be furnished,"




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"Oh, if I had money, I should like to do it myself; but
it would take an immensity to new furnish Clonbrony
Castle properly."
"The furniture in this house-" said Miss Nugent,
looking round.
"Would do a great deal towards it, I declare," cried
Lady Clonbrony; "that never struck me before, Grace, I
protest-and what would not suit one might sell or exchange here-and it would be a great amusement to meand I should like to set the fashion of something better in
that country. And I declare, now, I should like to see
those poor people, and that widow O'Neill. I do assure
you, I think I was happier at home; only, that one gets,
I don't know how, a notion one's nobody out of Lon'on.
But, after all, there's many drawbacks in Lon'on-and
many people are very impertinent, I'll allow - and if
there's a woman in the world I hate, it is Mrs. Darevilleand, if I was leaving Lon'on, I should not regret Lady
Langdale neither-and Lady St. James is as cold as a
stone. Colambre may well sayfrozen circles-these sort
of people are really very cold, and have, I do believe, no
hearts. I don't verily think there is one of them would
regret me more-   Hey! let me see, Dublin-the winter
-Merrion Square-new    furnished-and the summerClonbrony Castle! "
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till
her mind should have worked itself clear. One great obstacle had been removed; and now that the yellow damask
had been taken out of her imagination, they no longer
despaired.
Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room.
"What hopes?-any? if not, let me go."
He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony's
countenance-hope in the face of his son and niece.
"My dear, dear Lady Clonbrony, make us all happy by
one word," said he, kissing her.
"You never kissed me so since we left Ireland before,"
said Lady Clonbrony. "Well, since it must be so, let us
go," said she.
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"Did I ever see such joy!" said Lord Clonbrony, clasping his hands; "I never expected such joy in my life!-I
must go and tell poor Terry!" and off he ran.
"And now, since we are to go," said Lady Clonbrony,
"pray let us go immediately, before the thing gets wind,
else I shall have Mrs. Dareville, and Lady Langdale, and
Lady St. James, and all the world, coming to condole with
me, just to satisfy their own curiosity; and then Miss
Pratt, who hears everything that everybody says, and
more than they say, will come and tell me how it is reported everywhere that we are ruined. Oh! I never could
bear to stay and hear all this. I'll tell you what I'll doyou are to be of age the day after to-morrow, Colambrevery well, there are some papers for me to sign-I must
stay to put my name to them, and that done, that minute
I'll leave you and Lord Clonbrony to settle all the rest;
and I'll get into my carriage with Grace, and go down to
Buxton again; where you can come for me, and take me
up, when you're all ready to go to Ireland-and we shall
be so far on our way. Colambre, what do you say to
this? "
"That-if you like it, madam," said he, giving one hasty
glance at Miss Nugent, and withdrawing his eyes, "it is the
best possible arrangement."
"So," thought Grace, "that is the best possible arrangement which takes us away."
"If I like it!" said Lady Clonbrony; "to be sure I do,
or I should not propose it. What is Colambre thinking
of? I know, Grace, at all events, what you and I must
think of-of having the furniture packed up, and settling
what's to go, and what's to be exchanged, and all that.
Now, my dear, go and write a note directly to Mr. Soho,
and bid him come himself, immediately; and we'll go and
make out a catalogue this instant of what furniture I will
have packed."
So, with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired. "I go to my business, Colambre; and I leave you
to settle yours in peace."
In peace!-Never was our hero's mind less at peace
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than at this moment. The more his heart felt that it was
painful, the more his reason told him it was necessary that
he should part from Grace Nugent. To his union with
her there was an obstacle, which his prudence told him
ought to be insurmountable; yet he felt that, during the
few days he had been with her, the few hours he had been
near her, he had, with his utmost power over himself,
scarcely been master of his passion, or capable of concealing it from its object. It could not have been done but
for her perfect simplicity and innocence. But how could
this be supposed on his part? How could he venture to
live with this charming girl?  How could he settle at
home? What resource?
His mind turned towards the army; he thought that
abroad, and in active life, he should lose all the painful
recollections, and drive from his heart all the resentments,
which could now be only a source of unavailing regret.
But his mother-his mother, who had now yielded her own
taste to his entreaties, for the good of her family-she expected him to return and live with her in Ireland. Though
not actually promised or specified, he knew that she took
it for granted; that it was upon this hope, this faith, she
consented; he knew that she would be shocked at the bare
idea of his going into the army. There was one chanceour hero tried, at this moment, to think it the best possible
chance-that Miss Nugent might marry Mr. Salisbury, and
settle in England. On this idea he relied as the only means
of extricating him from difficulties.
It was necessary to turn his thoughts immediately to
business, to execute his promises to his father. Two great
objects were now to be accomplished-the payment of his
father's debts, and the settlement of the Irish agent's accounts; and, in transacting this complicated business, he
derived considerable assistance from Sir Terence O'Fay,
and from Sir Arthur Berryl's solicitor, Mr. Edwards.
Whilst acting for Sir Arthur, on a former occasion, Lord
Colambre had gained the entire confidence of this solicitor,
who was a man of the first eminence. Mr. Edwards took
the papers and Lord Clonbrony's title-deeds home with
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him, saying that he would give an answer the next morning. He then waited upon Lord Colambre, and informed
him, that he had just received a letter from Sir Arthur
Berryl, who, with the consent and desire of his lady, requested that whatever money might be required by Lord
Clonbrony should be immediately supplied on their account, without waiting till Lord Colambre should be of
age, as the ready money might be of some convenience to
him in accelerating the journey to Ireland, which Sir Arthur
and Lady Berryl knew was his lordship's object. Sir
Terence O'Fay now supplied Mr. Edwards with accurate
information as to the demands that were made upon Lord
Clonbrony, and of the respective characters of the creditors.
Mr. Edwards undertook to settle with the fair claimants;
Sir Terence with the rogues; so that by the advancement
of ready money from the Berryls, and by the detection of
false and exaggerated charges, which Sir Terence made
among the inferior class, the debts were reduced nearly to
one half of their former amount. Mordicai, who had been
foiled in his vile attempt to become sole creditor, had,
however, a demand of more than seven thousand pounds
upon Lord Clonbrony, which he had raised to this enormous sum in six or seven years, by means well known to
himself. He stood the foremost in the list, not from the
greatness of the sum, but from the danger of his adding to
it the expenses of law. Sir Terence undertook to pay the
whole with five thousand pounds. Lord Clonbrony thought
it impossible; the solicitor thought it improvident, because
he knew that upon a trial a much greater abatement would
be allowed; but Lord Colambre was determined, from
the present embarrassments of his own situation, to leave
nothing undone that could be accomplished immediately.
Sir Terence, pleased with his commission, immediately
went to Mordicai.
"Well, Sir Terence," said Mordicai, "I hope you are
come to pay me my hundred guineas; for Miss Broadhurst
is married! "
"Well, Mr. Mordicai, what then? The ides of March
are come, but not gone! Stay, if you plase, Mister Mor220




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dicai, till Lady-day, when it becomes due; in the meantime, I have a handful, or rather an armful, of bank-notes
for you, from my Lord Colambre."
" Humph! " said Mordicai; "how's that? he'll not be of
age these three days."
"Don't matter for that; he has sent me to look over
your account, and to hope that you will make some small
ABATEMENT in the total."
"Harkee, Sir Terence-you think yourself very clever
in things of this sort, but you've mistaken your man; I
have an execution for the whole, and I'll be d-d if all
your cunning shall MAKE me take up with part! "
"Be asy, Mister Mordicai!-you shan't make me break
your bones, nor make me drop one actionable word against
your high character; for I know your clerk there, with that
long goose-quill behind his ear, would be ready evidence
again' me. But I beg to know, in one word, whether you
will take five thousand down, and GIVE Lord Clonbrony a
discharge?"
"No, Mr. Terence! nor six thousand nine hundred and
ninety-nine pounds. My demand is ~7130, odd shillings:
if you have that money, pay it; if not, I know how to get
it, and along with it complete revenge for all the insults I
have received from that greenhorn, his son."
"Paddy Brady! " cried Sir Terence, "do you hear that?
Remember that word, revenge!-Mind, I call you to
witness! "
"What, sir, will you raise a rebellion among my workmen?"
"No, Mr. Mordicai, no rebellion; and I hope you won't
cut the boy's ears off for listening to a little of the brogue
-So listen, my good lad. Now, Mr. Mordicai, I offer
you here, before little goose-quill, ~5000 ready pennytake it, or leave it; take your money, and leave your revenge; or, take your revenge, and lose your money."
"Sir Terence, I value neither your threats nor your
cunning. Good morning to you."
"Good morning to you, Mr. Mordicai-but not kindly!
Mr. Edwards, the solicitor, has been at the office to take
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off the execution; so now you may have law to your heart's
content! And it was only to plase the young lord that the
ould one consented to my carrying this bundle to you,"showing the bank-notes.
"Mr. Edwards employed! " cried Mordicai.   "Why,
how the devil did Lord Clonbrony get into such hands as
his? The execution taken off! Well, sir, go to law-I am
ready for you; Jack Latitat IS A MATCH for your sober
solicitor."
"Good morning again to you, Mr. Mordicai; we're
fairly out of your clutches, and we have enough to do with
our money."
"Well, Sir Terence, I must allow you have a very
wheedling way      Here, Mr. Thompson, make out a
receipt for Lord Clonbrony: I never go to law with an old
customer, if I can help it."
This business settled, Mr. Soho was next to be dealt
with.
He came at Lady Clonbrony's summons; and was taking directions, with the utmost sang froid, for packing up
and sending off the very furniture for which he was not
paid.
Lord Colambre called him into his father's study; and,
producing his bill, he began to point out various articles
which were charged at prices that were obviously extravagant.
"Why, really, my lord, they are abundantly extravagant; if I charged vulgar prices, I should be only a vulgar
tradesman. I, however, am not a broker, nor a Jew. Of
the article superintendence, which is only ~500, I cannot
abate a doit; on the rest of the bill, if you mean to offer
ready, I mean, without any negotiation, to abate thirty
per cent; and I hope that is a fair and gentlemanly offer."
"Mr. Soho, there is your money! "
"My Lord Colambre! I would give the contents of
three such bills to be sure of such noblemanly conduct as
yours. Lady Clonbrony's furniture shall be safely packed,
without costing her a farthing."
With the help of Mr. Edwards, the solicitor, every other
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claim was soon settled; and Lord Clonbrony, for the first
time since he left Ireland, found himself out of debt, and
out of danger.
Old Nick's account could not be settled in London.
Lord Colambre had detected numerous false charges, and
sundry impositions; the land, which had been purposely
let to run wild, so far from yielding any rent, was made a
source of constant expense, as remaining still unset: this
was a large tract, for which St. Dennis had at length offered
a small rent.
Upon a fair calculation of the profits of the ground,
and from other items in the account, Nicholas Garraghty,
Esq., appeared at last to be, not the creditor, but the
debtor to Lord Clonbrony. He was dismissed with disgrace, which perhaps he might not have felt, if it had not
been accompanied by pecuniary loss, and followed by the
fear of losing his other agencies, and by the dread of immediate bankruptcy.
Mr. Burke was appointed agent in his stead to the Clonbrony as well as the Colambre estate. His appointment
was announced to him by the following letter:
To MRS. BURKE, AT COLAMBRE.
DEAR MADAM,
The traveller whom you so hospitably received some months
ago was Lord Colambre-he now writes to you in his proper
person. He promised you that he would, as far as it might be
in his power, do justice to Mr. Burke's conduct and character,
by representing what he had done for Lord Clonbrony in the
town of Colambre, and in the whole management of the tenantry
and property under his care.
Happily for my father, my dear madam, he is now as fully
convinced as you could wish him to be of Mr. Burke's merits;
and he begs me to express his sense of the obligations he is
under to him and to you. He entreats that you will pardon the
impropriety of a letter, which, as I assured you the moment I
saw it, he never wrote or read. This will, he says, cure him,
for life, of putting his signature to any paper without reading it.
He hopes that you will forget that such a letter was ever
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received, and that you will use your influence with Mr. Burke to
induce him to continue to our family his regard and valuable
services. Lord Clonbrony encloses a power of attorney, enabling Mr. Burke to act in future for him, if Mr. Burke will do
him that favour, in managing the Clonbrony as well as the
Colambre estate.
Lord Clonbrony will be in Ireland in the course of next
month, and intends to have the pleasure of soon paying his respects in person to Mr. Burke, at Colambre.-I am, dear
madam, your obliged guest, and faithful servant,
COLAMBRE.
GROSVENOR SQUARE, LONDON.
Lord Colambre was so continually occupied with business
during the two days previous to his coming of age, every
morning at his solicitor's chambers, every evening in his
father's study, that Miss Nugent never saw him but at
breakfast or dinner; and, though she watched for it most
anxiously, never could find an opportunity of speaking to
him alone, or of asking an explanation of the change and
inconsistencies of his manner. At last, she began to think
that, in the midst of so much business of importance, by
which he seemed harassed, she should do wrong to torment
him, by speaking of any small disquietude that concerned
only herself. She determined to suppress her doubts, to
keep her feelings to herself, and to endeavour, by constant
kindness, to regain that place in his affections which she
imagined that she had lost. "Everything will go right
again," thought she, "and we shall all be happy, when he
returns with us to Ireland-to that dear home which he
loves as well as I do! "
The day Lord Colambre was of age, the first thing he
did was to sign a bond for five thousand pounds, Miss
Nugent's fortune, which had been lent to his father, who
was her guardian.
"This, sir, I believe," said he, giving it to his father as
soon as signed-" this, I believe, is the first debt you would
wish to have secured."
"Well thought of, my dear boy!-God bless you!-that
has weighed more upon my conscience and heart than all
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the rest, though I never said anything about it. I used,
whenever I met Mr. Salisbury, to wish myself fairly down
at the centre of the earth; not that he ever thought of
fortune, I'm sure; for he often.told me, and I believed
him, he would rather have Miss Nugent without a penny,
if he could get her, than the first fortune in the empire.
But I'm glad she will not go to him penniless, for all that;
and by my fault, especially. There, there's my name to
it-do witness it, Terry. But, Colambre, you must give
it to her-you must take it to Grace."
"Excuse me, sir; it is no gift of mine-it is a debt of
yours. I beg you will take the bond to her yourself, my
dear father."
" My dear son, you must not always have your own way,
and hide everything good you do, or give me the honour
of it-I won't be the jay in borrowed feathers. I have
borrowed enough in my life, and I 've done with borrowing now, thanks to you, Colambre-so come along with
me; for I'll be hanged if ever I give this joint bond to
Miss Nugent, without you along with me. Leave Lady
Clonbrony here to sign these papers. Terry will witness
them properly, and you come along with me."
"And pray, my lord," said her ladyship, "order the
carriage to the door; for, as soon as you have my signature,
I hope you'll let me off to Buxton."
"Oh, certainly - the carriage is ordered--everything
ready, my dear."
"And pray tell Grace to be ready," added Lady Clonbrony.
"That's not necessary; for she is always ready," said
Lord Clonbrony. "Come, Colambre," added he, taking
his son under the arm, and carrying him up to Miss
Nugent's dressing-room.
They knocked, and were admitted.
"Ready!" said Lord Clonbrony; "ay, always readyso I said. Here's Colambre, my darling," continued he,
"has secured your fortune to you to my heart's content;
but he would not condescend to come up to tell you so,
till I made him, Here's the bond; put your hand to it,




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Colambre; you were ready enough to do that when it cost
you something; and now, all I have to ask of you is, to
persuade her to marry out of hand, that I may see her
happy before I die. Now my heart's at ease! I can meet
Mr. Salisbury with a safe conscience. One kiss, my little
Grace. If anybody can persuade you, I'm sure it's that
man that's now leaning against the mantelpiece. It's Colambre's will, or your heart's not made like mine-so I
leave you."
And out of the room walked he, leaving his poor son in
as awkward, embarrassing, and painful a situation, as could
well be conceived. Half a dozen indistinct ideas crossed
his mind; quick conflicting feelings made his heart beat
and stop. And how it would have ended, if he had been
left to himself, whether he would have stood or fallen, have
spoken or have continued silent, can never now be known,
for all was decided without the action of his will. He was
awakened from his trance by these simple words from Miss
Nugent"I'm much obliged to you, cousin Colambre-more
obliged to you for your kindness in thinking of me first,
in the midst of all your other business, than by your securing my fortune. Friendship - and your friendship - is
worth more to me than fortune. May I believe that is
secured?"
"Believe it! Oh, Grace, can you doubt it?"
"I will not; it would make me too unhappy. I will
not. "
"You need not."
"That is enough-I am satisfied-I ask no further explanation. You are truth itself-one word from you is
security sufficient. We are friends for life," said she,
taking his hand between both of hers; "are not we? "
"We are-and therefore sit down, cousin Grace, and let
me claim the privilege of friendship, and speak to you of
him who aspires to be more than your friend for life,
Mr."Mr. Salisbury!" said Miss Nugent; "I saw him yesterday. We had a very long conversation; I believe he
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understands my sentiments perfectly, and that he no longer
thinks of being more to me than a friend for life."
"You have refused him! "
"Yes. I have a high opinion of Mr. Salisbury's understanding, a great esteem for his character; I like his
manners and conversation; but I do not love him, and
therefore, you know, I could not marry him."
"But, my dear Miss Nugent, with a higrh opinion, a
great esteem, and liking his manners and conversation, in
such a well-regulated mind as yours, can there be a better
foundation for love? "
" It is an excellent f oundation, " said she; " but I never
went any farther than the foundation; and, indeed, I
never wished to proceed any farther. "
Lord Golambre scarcely dared to ask why; but, after
some pause, he said"I don't wish to intrude upon your confidence."
"You cannot intrude upon my confidence; I am ready
to give it to you entirely, frankly; I hesitated only because
another person was concerned. Do you remember, at my
aunt's gala, a lady who danced with Mr. Salisbury?"
" Not in the least."9
"A lady with whom you and Mr. Salisbury were talking,
just before supper, in the Turkish tent."
"Not in the least."
"As we went down to supper, you told me you had had
a delightful conversation with her-that you thought her a
charming woman."
"A charming woman!-I have not the slightest recollection of her. "
"And you told me that she and Mr. Salisbury had been
praising me a' / 'envie 1 'zne et 1 autre."
" Oh, I recollect her now perfectly, " said Lord Colambre;
"but what of her? "
" S~e is the woman who, I hope, will be Mrs. Salisbury. Ever since I have been acquainted with them
both, I have seen that they were suited to each other;
and fancy, indeed I am almost sure, that she could love
him, tenderly love him-and, I know, I could not. But
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my own sentiments, you may be sure, are all I ever told
Mr. Salisbury."
"But of your own sentiments you may not be sure,"
said Lord Colambre; "and I see no reason why you should
give him up from false generosity."
"Generosity?" interrupted Miss Nugent; "you totally
misunderstand me; there is no generosity, nothing for me
to give up in the case. I did not refuse Mr. Salisbury
from generosity, but because I did not love him. Perhaps
my seeing this at first prevented me from thinking of him
as a lover; but, from whatever cause, I certainly never
felt love for Mr. Salisbury, nor any of that pity which is
said to lead to love; perhaps," added she, smiling, "because I was aware that he would be so much better off
after I refused him-so much happier with one suited to
him in age, talents, fortune, and love-'What bliss, did he
but know his bliss,' were his! "
"Did he but know his bliss," repeated Lord Colambre;
"but is not he the best judge of his own bliss? "
"And am not I the best judge of mine?" said Miss Nugent; "I go no farther."
"You are; and I have no right to go farther. Yet, this
much permit me to say, my dear Grace, that it would give
me sincere pleasure, that is, real satisfaction, to see you
happily-established."
"Thank you, my dear Lord Colambre; but you spoke
that like a man of seventy at least, with the most solemn
gravity of demeanour."
"I meant to be serious, not solemn," said Lord Colambre, endeavouring to change his tone.
"There now," said she, in a playful tone, "you have
seriously accomplished the task my good uncle set you; so
I will report well of you to him, and certify that you did
all that in you lay to exhort me to marry; that you have
even assured me that it would give you sincere pleasure,
that is, real satisfaction, to see me happily established."
"Oh, Grace, if you knew how much I felt when I said
that, you would spare this raillery."
"I will be serious-I am most seriously convinced of the
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sincerity of your affection for me; I know my happiness is
your object in all you have said, and I thank you from my
heart for the interest you take about me. But really and
truly, I do not wish to marry. This is not a mere commonplace speech; but I have not yet seen any man I could
love. I like you, cousin Colambre, better than Mr. Salisbury-I would rather live with you than with him; you
know that is a certain proof that I am not likely to be in
love with him. I am happy as I am, especially now we
are all going to dear Ireland, home, to live together: you
cannot conceive with what pleasure I look forward to
that."
Lord Colambre was not vain; but love quickly sees love
where it exists, or foresees the probability, the possibility
of its existence. He saw that Miss Nugent might love
him tenderly, passionately; but that duty, habit, the prepossession that it was impossible she could marry her cousin
Colambre-a prepossession instilled into her by his mother
-had absolutely prevented her from ever yet thinking of
him as a lover. He saw the hazard for her, he felt the
danger for himself. Never had she appeared to him so
attractive as at this moment, when he felt the hope that he
could obtain return of love.
"But St. Omar!-Why! why is she a St. Omar!-illegitimate!-'No St. Omar sans reproc/e.' My wife she cannot
be-I will not engage her affections."
Swift as thoughts in moments of strong feeling pass in
the mind without being put into words, our hero thought
all this, and determined, cost what it would, to act honourably.
"You spoke of my returning to Ireland, my dear Grace.
I have not yet told you my plans."
"Plans! are not you returning with us?" said she, precipitately; "are not you going to Ireland-home-with
us?"
"No-I am going to serve a campaign or two abroad.
I think every young man in these times--"
"Good heavens! What does'this mean? What can you
mean? " cried she, fixing her eyes upon his, as if she would
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read his very soul. "Why? what reason?-Oh, tell me the
truth-and at once."
His change of colour-his hand that trembled, and withdrew from hers-the expression of his eyes as they met hers
-revealed the truth to her at once. As it flashed across
her mind, she started back; her face grew crimson, and, in
the same instant, pale as death.
"Yes-you see, you feel the truth now," said Lord
Colambre. "You see, you feel, that I love you-passionately."
"Oh, let me not hear it!" said she;,"I must not-ought
not. Never, till this moment, did such a thought cross my
mind-I thought it impossible -oh, make me think so
still."
" I will-it is impossible that we can ever be united."
"I always thought so," said she, taking breath with a
deep sigh. "Then why not live as we have lived?"
"I cannot-I cannot answer for myself-I will not run
the risk; and therefore I must quit you-knowing, as I do,
that there is an invincible obstacle to our union, of what *
nature I cannot explain; I beg you not to inquire."
"You need not beg it-I shall not inquire-I have no
curiosity-none," said she, in a passive, dejected tone;
"that is not what I am thinking of in the least. I know
there are invincible obstacles; I wish it to be so. But, if
invincible, you who have so much sense, honour, and
virtue"I hope, my dear cousin, that I have honour and virtue.
But there are temptations to which no wise, no good man
will expose himself. Innocent creature! you do not know
the power of love. I rejoice that you have always thought
it impossible-think so still-it will save you from--all I
must endure. Think of me but as your cousin, your friend
-give your heart to some happier man. As your friend,
your true friend, I conjure you, give your heart to some
more fortunate man. Marry, if you can feel love-marry,
and be happy. Honour! virtue! Yes, I have both, and I
will not forfeit them. Yes, I will merit your esteem and
my own-by actions, not words; and I give you the
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i


'As it flashed across her mind, she started back; her face grew
crimson, and, in the same instanDt, pale as death.'








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strongest proof, by tearing myself from you at this moment. Farewell! "
"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent, and my lady
calling for you," said her maid. "Here's your key,
ma'am, and here's your gloves, my dear ma'am."
"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent," said Lady
Clonbrony's woman, coming eagerly with parcels in her
hand, as Miss Nugent passed her and ran downstairs;
"and I don't know where I laid my lady's numbrella, for
my life-do you, Anne?"
"No, indeed-but I know here's my own young lady's
watch that she has left. Bless me! I never knew her to
forget anything on a journey before."
"Then she is going to be married, as sure as my name's
Le Maistre, and to my Lord Colambre; for he has been
here this hour, to my certain Bible knowledge. Oh, you'll
see, she will be Lady Colambre."
"I wish she may, with all my heart," said Anne; "but
I must run down-they're waiting."
"Oh no," said Mrs. le Maistre, seizing Anne's arm, and
holding her fast; "stay-you may safely-for they're all
kissing and taking leave, and all that, you know; and my
lady is talking on about Mr. Soho, and giving a hundred
directions about legs of tables, and so forth, I warrantshe's always an hour after she's ready before she gets inand I'm looking for the numbrella. So stay, and tell me
-Mrs. Petito wrote over word it was to be Lady Isabel;
and then a contradiction came-it was turned into the
youngest of the Killpatricks; and now here he's in Miss
Nugent's dressing-room to the last moment. Now, in my
opinion, that am not censorious, this does not look so
pretty; but, according to my verdict, he is only making a
fool of Miss Nugent, like the rest; and his lordship seems
too like what you might call a male cocket, or a masculine
jilt."
"No more like a masculine jilt than yourself, Mrs. le
Maistre," cried Anne, taking fire. "And my young lady
is not a lady to be made a fool of, I promise you; nor is
my lord likely to make a fool of any woman."
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"Bless us all! that's no great praise for any young nobleman, Miss Anne."
"Mrs. le Maistre! Mrs. le Maistre! are you above?"
cried a footman from the bottom of the stairs; "my lady's
calling for you."
"Very well! very well!"' said sharp Mrs. le Maistre;
"very well! and if she is-manners, sir!-Come up for one,
can't you, and don't stand bawling at the bottom of the
stairs, as if one had no ears to be saved. I'm coming as
fast as I conveniently can."  Mrs. le Maistre stood in the
doorway, so as to fill it up, and prevent Anne from passing.
"Miss Anne! Miss Anne! Mrs. le Maistre!" cried
another footman; "my lady's in the carriage, and Miss
Nugent."
"Miss Nugent!-is she? " cried Mrs. le Maistre, running
downstairs, followed by Anne. "Now, for the world in
pocket-pieces wouldn't I have missed seeing him hand Miss
Nugent in; for by that I could have judged definitively."
"My lord, I beg pardon!-I'm afeard I'm late," said
Mrs. le Maistre, as she passed Lord Colambre, who was
standing motionless in the hall. "I beg a thousand pardons; but I was hunting high and low, for my lady's
numbrella."'
Lord Colambre did not hear or heed her; his eyes were
fixed, and they never moved.
Lord Clonbrony was at the open carriage-door, kneeling
on the step, and receiving Lady Clonbrony's "more last
words" for Mr. Soho. The two waiting-maids stood together on the steps.
"Look at our young lord, how he stands," whispered
Mrs. le Maistre to Anne, "the image of despair! And
she, the picture of death!-I don't know what to think."
"Nor I; but don't stare if you can help it," said Anne.
"Get in, get in, Mrs. le Maistre," added she, as Lord
Clonbrony now rose from the step, and made way for
them.
"Ay, in with you-in with you, Mrs. le Maistre," said
Lord Clonbrony. "Good-bye to you, Anne, and take care
of your young mistress at Buxton; let me see her bloom232




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ing when we meet again; I don't half like her looks, and I
never thought Buxton agreed with her."
"Buxton never did anybody harm," said Lady Clonbrony; "and as to bloom, I'm sure, if Grace has not bloom
enough in her cheeks this moment to please you, I don't
know what you'd have, my dear lord-Rouge?-Shut the
door, John! Oh, stay!-Colambre! Where upon earth's
Colambre?" cried her ladyship, stretching from the farthest
side of the coach to the window.-" Colambre! "
Colambre was forced to appear.
"Colambre, my dear! I forgot to say that, if anything
detains you longer than Wednesday se'nnight, I beg you
will not fail to write, or I shall be miserable."
"I will write; at all events, my dearest mother, you
shall hear from me."
"Then I shall be quite happy. Go on! "
The carriage drove on.
"I do believe Colambre's ill; I never saw a man look so
ill in my life-did you, Grace?-as he did the minute we
drove on. He should take advice. I've a mind," cried
Lady Clonbrony, laying her hand on the cord to stop the
coachman-"I've a mind to turn about, tell him so, and
ask what is the matter with him."
"Better not! "'' said Miss Nugent; "he will write to you,
and tell you-if anything is the matter with him. Better
go on now to Buxton! " continued she, scarcely able to
speak. Lady Clonbrony let go the cord.
"But what is the matter with you, my dear Grace? for
you are certainly going to die too! "
"I will tell you-as soon as I can; but don't ask me
now, my dear aunt! "
"Grace, Grace! pull the cord! " cried Lady Clonbrony
-" Mr. Salisbury's phaeton!- Mr. Salisbury, I'm happy
to see you! We're on our way to Buxton-as I told
you."
"So am I," said Mr. Salisbury. "I hope to be there
before your ladyship; will you honour me with any commands?-of course, I will see that everything is ready for
your reception."
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Her ladyship had not any commands. Mr. Salisbury
drove on rapidly.
Lady Clonbrony's ideas had now taken the Salisbury
channel.
"You didn't know that Mr. Salisbury was going to Buxton to meet you, did you, Grace? " said Lady Clonbrony.
"No, indeed, I did not!" said Miss Nugent; "and I am
very sorry for it."
"Young ladies, as Mrs. Broadhurst says, 'never know,
or at least never tell, what they are sorry or glad for,' "
replied Lady Clonbrony. "At all events, Grace, my love,
it has brought the fine bloom back to your cheeks; and I
own I am satisfied."
CHAPTER XV.
"9 G  ONE! for ever gone from me!" said Lord Colambre
-     to himself, as the carriage drove away. "Never
shall I see her more-never will I see her more,
till she is married."
Lord Colambre went to his own room, locked the door,
and was relieved in some degree by the sense of privacy;
by the feeling that he could now indulge his reflections
undisturbed. He had consolation-he had done what was
honourable-he had transgressed no duty, abandoned no
principle-he had not injured the happiness of any human
being-he had not, to gratify himself, hazarded the peace
of the woman he loved-he had not sought to win her
heart. Of her innocent, her warm, susceptible heart, he
might perhaps have robbed her-he knew it-but he had
left it untouched, he hoped entire, in her own power, to
bless with it hereafter some man worthy of her. In the
hope that she might be happy, Lord Colambre felt relief;
and in the consciousness that he had made his parents
happy, he rejoiced. But, as soon as his mind turned that
way for consolation, came the bitter concomitant reflection, that his mother must be disappointed in her hopes of
his accompanying her home, and of his living with her in
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Ireland; she would be miserable when she should hear that
he was going abroad into the army-and yet it must be so
-and he must write, and tell her so. "The sooner this
difficulty is off my mind, the sooner this painful letter is
written, the better," thought he. "It must be done-I
will do it immediately."
He snatched up his pen, and began a letter.
"My dear mother-Miss Nugent--"
He was interrupted by a knock at his door.
"A gentleman below, my lord," said a servant, "who
wishes to see you."
"I cannot see any gentleman. Did you say I was at
home?"
"No, my lord; I said you was not at home; for I
thought you would not choose to be at home, and your
own man was not in the way for me to ask-so I denied
you; but the gentleman would not be denied; he said I
must come and see if you was at home. So, as he spoke
as if he was a gentleman not used to be denied, I thought
it might be somebody of consequence, and I showed him
into the front drawing-room. I think he said he was sure
you'd be at home for a friend from Ireland."
"A friend from Ireland! Why did not you tell me that
sooner?" said Lord Colambre, rising, and running downstairs. "Sir James Brooke, I daresay."
No, not Sir James Brooke; but one he was almost as
glad to see-Count O'Halloran!
"My dear count! the greater pleasure for being unexpected."
"I came to London but yesterday," said the count;
"but I could not be here a day, without doing myself the
honour of paying my respects to Lord Colambre."
"You do me not only honour, but pleasure, my dear
count. People when they like one another, always find
each other out, and contrive to meet even in London."
"You are too polite to ask what brought such a superannuated militaire as I am," said the count, "from his
retirement into this gay world again. A relation of mine,
who is one of our Ministry, knew that I had some maps,
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and plans, and charts, which might be se'rviceable in an
expedition they are planning. I might have trusted my
charts across the channel, without coming myself to convoy them, you will say. But my relation fancied-young
relations, you know, if they are good for anything, are apt
to overvalue the heads of old relations-fancied that mine
was worth bringing all the way from Halloran Castle to
London, to consult with tete-a-tete. So you know, when
this was signified to me by a letter from the secretary in
office, private, most confidential, what could I do, but do
myself the honour to obey? For though honour's voice
cannot provoke the silent dust, yet 'flattery soothes the
dull cold ear of age.'-But enough, and too much of myself," said the count: "tell me, my dear lord, something
of yourself. I do not think England seems to agree with
you so well as Ireland; for, excuse me, in point of health,
you don't look like the same man I saw some weeks ago."
"My mind has been ill at ease of late," said Lord Colambre.
"Ay, there's the thing! The body pays for the mindbut those who have feeling minds, pain and pleasure altogether computed, have the advantage; or at least they
think so; for they would not change with those who have
them not, were they to gain by the bargain the most
robust body that the most selfish coxcomb, or the heaviest
dunce extant, ever boasted. For instance, would you
now, my lord, at this moment change altogether with
Major Benson, or Captain Williamson, or even our friend,.'Eh, really now, 'pon honour'-would you?-I'm glad to
see you smile."
"I thank you for making me smile, for I assure you I
want it. I wish-if you would not think me encroaching
upon your politeness and kindness in honouring me with
this visit--. You see," continued he, opening the doors
of the back drawing-room, and pointing to large packages"you see we are all preparing for a march; my mother has
left town half an hour ago-my father engaged to dine
abroad-only I at home-and, in this state of confusion,
could I even venture to ask Count O'Halloran to stay and
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dine with me, without being able to offer him Irish ortolans or Irish plums-in short, wviii you let me rob you of
two or three hours of your time? I am anxious to have
your opinion on a subject of some importance to me, and
on one where you are peculiarly qualified to judge and
decide for me."
"My dear lord, frankly, I have nothing half so good or
so agreeable to do with my time; command my hours. I
have already told you how much it flatters me to be consulted by the most helpless clerk in office; how much more
about the private concerns of an enlightened youngfriend, will Lord Colambre permit me to say? I hope so;
for though the length of our acquaintance might not justify
the word, yet regard and intimacy are not always in proportion to the time people have known each other, but to
their mutual perception of certain attaching qualities, a
certain *similarity and suitableness of character."
The good count, seeing that Lord Colambre was in much
distress of mind, did all he could to soothe him by kindness; far from making any difficulty about giving up a few
hours of his time, he seemed to have no other object in
London, and no purpose in life, but to attend to our hero.
To put him at ease, and to give him time to recover and
arrange his thoughts, the count talked of indifferent subj ects.
" I think I heard you mention the name of Sir James
Brooke."
"Yes, I expected to have seen him when the servant first
mentioned a friend from Ireland; because Sir James had
told me that, as soon as he could get leave of absence, he
would come to England."
"He is come; is now at his estate in Huntingdonshire;
doing, what do you think? I will give you a leading hint;
recollect the seal which the little De Cresey put into your
hands the day you dined at Oranmore. Faithful to his
motto, 'Deeds not words,' he is this instant, I believe, at
deeds, title-deeds; making out marriage settlements, getting ready to put his seal to the happy articles."
"Happy man! I give him joy," said Lord Colambre;
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"happy man! going to be married to such a womandaughter of such a mother.'
"Daughter of such a mother! That is indeed a great
addition and a great security to his happiness," said the
count. "Such a family to marry into; good from generation to generation; illustrious by character as well as by
genealogy; 'all the sons brave, and all the daughters
chaste.' "-Lord Colambre with difficulty repressed his
feelings.-"If I could choose, I would rather that a woman I loved were of such a family than that she had for
her dower the mines of Peru."
"So would I," cried Lord Colambre.
"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, and with such
energy; so few young men of the present day look to what
I call good connexion. In marrying, a man does not, to
be sure, marry his wife's mother; and yet a prudent man,
when he begins to think of the daughter, would look sharp
at the mother; ay, and back to the grandmother too, and
along the whole female line of ancestry."
"True-most true-he ought-he must."
"And I have a notion," said the count, smiling, "your
lordship's practice has been conformable to your theory."
"I!-mine! " said Lord Colambre, starting, and looking
at the count with surprise.
"I beg your pardon," said the count; "I did not intend
to surprise your confidence. But you forget that I was
present, and saw the impression which was made on your
mind by a mother's want of a proper sense of delicacy and
propriety-Lady Dashfort."
"Oh, Lady Dashfort! she was quite out of my head."
"And Lady Isabel?-I hope she is quite out of your
heart."
"She never was in it," said Lord Colambre.
"Only laid siege to it," said the count. "Well, I am
glad your heart did not surrender at discretion, or rather
without discretion. Then I may tell you, without fear or
preface, that the Lady Isabel, who 'talks of refinement,
delicacy, sense,' is going to stoop at once, and marryHeathcock."
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Lord Colambre was not surprised, but concerned and
disgusted, as he always felt, even when he did not care for
the individual, from hearing anything which tended to
lower the female sex in public estimation.
"As to myself," said he, "I cannot say I have had an
escape, for I don't think I ever was in much danger."
"It is difficult to measure danger when it is over-past
danger, like past pain, is soon forgotten," said the old
general. "At all events, I rejoice in your present safety."
"But is she really going to be married to Heathcock?"
said Lord Colambre.
"Positively; they all came over in the same packet with
me, and they are all in town now, buying jewels, and
equipages, and horses. Heathcock, you know, is as good
as another man, ea peu pr's, for all those purposes; his
father is dead, and left him a large estate. Que voulez
vous? as the French valet said to me on the occasion.
C'est quze monsieur est un Iomime de bien: il a des biens, a
ce qu'on dit."
Lord Colambre could not help smiling.
"How they got Heathcock to fall in love is what puzzles
me," said his lordship. "I should as soon have thought
of an oyster's falling in love as that being! "
"I own I should have sooner thought," replied the
count, "of his falling in love with an oyster; and so would
you, if you had seen him, as I did, devouring oysters on
shipboard.
" Say, can the lovely heroine hope to vie
With a fat turtle or a ven'son pie?
But that is not our affair; let the Lady Isabel look to it."
Dinner was announced; and no farther conversation of
any consequence passed between the count and Lord Colambre till the cloth was removed and the servants had
withdrawn. Then our hero opened on the subject which
was heavy at his heart.
"My dear count-to go back to the burial-place of the
Nugents, where my head was lost the first time I had the
pleasure of seeing you-you know, or, possibly," said he,
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smiling, "you do not know, that I have a cousin of the
name of Nugent?"
"You told me," replied the count, "that you had near
relations of that name; but I do not recollect that you
mentioned any one in particular."
" I never named Miss Nugent to you. No! it is not easy
to me to talk of her, and impossible to me to describe her.
If you had come one half-hour sooner this morning, you
would have seen her: I know she is exactly suited to your
excellent taste. But it is not at first sight she pleases
most; she gains upon the affections, attaches the heart,
and unfolds upon the judgment. In temper, manners,
and good sense, in every quality a man can or should desire in a wife, I never saw her equal. Yet, there is an obstacle, an invincible obstacle, the nature of which I cannot
explain to you, that forbids me to think of her as a wife.
She lives with my father and mother: they are returning
to Ireland. I wished, earnestly wished, on many accounts,
to have accompanied them, chiefly on my mother's; but it
cannot be. The first thing a man must do is to act honourably; and, that he may do so, he must keep out of the
way of a temptation which he believes to be above his
strength. I will never see Miss Nugent again till she is
married; I must either stay in England, or go abroad. I
have a mind to serve a campaign or two, if I could get a
commission in a regiment going to Spain; but I understand
so many are eager to go at this moment, that it is very
difficult to get a commission in such a regiment."
"It is difficult," said the count. " But," added he, after
thinking for a moment, "I have it! I can get the thing
done for you, and directly. Major Benson, in consequence
of that affair, you know, about his mistress, is forced to
quit the regiment. When the lieu tenant-colonel came to
quarters, and the rest of the officers heard the fact, they
would not keep company with Benson, and would not mess
with him. I know he wants to sell out; and that regiment
is to be ordered immediately to Spain. I will have the
thing done for you, if you request it.
"First, give me your advice, Count O'Halloran; you
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are well acquainted with the military profession, with military life. Would you advise me-I won't speak of myself,
because we judge better by general views than by particular cases-would you advise a young man at present to go
into the army? "
The count was silent for a few minutes, and then replied: "Since you seriously ask my opinion, my lord, I
must lay aside my own prepossessions, and endeavour to
speak with impartiality. To go into the army in these
days, my lord, is, in my sober opinion, the most absurd
and base, or the wisest and noblest thing a young man can
do. To enter into the army, with the hope of escaping
from the application necessary to acquire knowledge, letters, and science-I run no risk, my lord, in saying this to
you-to go into the army, with the hope of escaping from
knowledge, letters, science, and morality; to wear a red
coat and an epaulette; to be called captain; to figure at a
ball; to lounge away time in country sports, at country
quarters, was never, even in times of peace, creditable;
but it is now absurd and base. Submitting to a certain
portion of ennui and contempt, this mode of life for an
officer was formerly practicable-but now cannot be submitted to without utter, irremediable disgrace. Officers are
now, in general, men of education and information; want
of knowledge, sense, manners, must consequently be immediately detected, ridiculed, and despised in a military
man. Of this we have not long since seen lamentable examples in the raw officers who have lately disgraced themselves in my neighbourhood in Ireland-that Major Benson
and Captain Williamson. But I will not advert to such
insignificant individuals, such are rare exceptions-I leave
them out of the question-I reason on general principles.
The life of an officer is not now a life of parade, of coxcombical, or of profligate idleness--but of active service,
of continual hardship and danger. All the descriptions
which we see in ancient history of a soldier's life-descriptions which, in times of peace, appeared like romance-are
now realised; military exploits fill every day's newspapers,
every day's conversation. A martial spirit is now essential
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to the liberty and the existence of our own country. In
the present state of things, the military must be the most
honourable profession, because the most useful. Every
movement of an army is followed, wherever it goes, by the
public hopes and fears. Every officer must now feel, besides this sense of collective importance, a belief that his
only dependence must be on his own merit-and thus his
ambition, his enthusiasm, are raised; and when once this
noble ardour is kindled in the breast, it excites to exertion,
and supports under endurance. But I forget myself," said
the count, checking his enthusiasm; "I promised to speak
soberly. If I have said too much, your own good sense,
my lord, will correct me, and your good-nature will forgive
the prolixity of an old man, touched upon his favourite
subject-the passion of his youth."
Lord Colambre, of course, assured the count that he was
not tired. Indeed, the enthusiasm with which this old
officer spoke of his profession, and the high point of view
in which he placed it, increased our hero's desire to serve a
campaign abroad. Good sense, politeness, and experience
of the world preserved Count O'Halloran from that foible
with which old officers are commonly reproached, of talking continually of their own military exploits. Though
retired froiii the world, he had contrived, by reading the
best books, and corresponding with persons of good information, to keep up with the current of modern affairs;
and he seldom spoke of those in which he had been formerly
engaged. He rather too studiously avoided speaking of
himself; and this fear of egotism diminished the peculiar
interest he might have inspired: it disappointed curiosity,
and deprived those with whom he conversed of many entertaining and instructive anecdotes. However, he sometimes
made exceptions to his general rule in favour of persons
who peculiarly pleased him, and Lord Colambre was of
this number.
He this evening, for the first time, spoke to his lordship
of the years he had spent in the Austrian service; told him
anecdotes of the emperor; spoke of many distinguished
public characters whom he had known abroad; of those
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officers who had been his friends and companions. Among
others he mentioned, with particular regard, a young English officer who had been at the same time with him in the
Austrian service, a gentleman of the name of Reynolds.
The name struck Lord Colambre; it was the name of
the officer who had been the cause of the disgrace of Miss
St. Omar-of Miss Nugent's mother. "But there are so
many Reynoldses."
He eagerly asked the age-the character of this officer.
"He was a gallant youth," said the count, "but too adventurous-too rash. He fell, after distinguishing himself
in a glorious manner, in his twentieth year-died in my
arms.
"Married or unmarried?" cried Lord Colambre.
"Married-he had been privately married, less than a
year before his death, to a very young English lady, who
had been educated at a convent in Vienna. He was heir
to a considerable property, I believe, and the young lady
had little fortune; and the affair was kept secret from the
fear of offending his friends, or for some other reason-I
do not recollect the particulars."
"Did he acknowledge his marriage?" said Lord Colambre.
"Never till he was dying-then he confided his secret to
me."
"Do you recollect the name of the young lady he
married?"
"Yes-a Miss St. Omar."
"St. Omar!" repeated Lord Colambre, with an expression of lively joy in his countenance. "But are you certain, my dear count, that she was really married, legally
married, to Mr. Reynolds? Her marriage has been denied
by all his friends and relations-hers have never been able
to establish it-her daughter is  My dear count, were
you present at the marriage? "
"No," said the count, "I was not present at the marriage; I never saw the lady, nor do I know anything of
the affair, except that Mr. Reynolds, when he was dying,
assured me that he was privately married to a Miss St.
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Omar, who was then boarding at a convent in Vienna.
The young man expressed great regret at leaving her
totally unprovided for; but said that he trusted his father
would acknowledge her, and that her friends would be
reconciled to her. He was not of age, he said, to make a
will; but I think he told me that his child, who at that
time was not born, would, even if it should be a girl, inherit a considerable property. With this, I cannot, however, charge my memory positively; but he put a packet
into my hands which, he told me, contained a certificate of
his marriage, and, I think he said, a letter to his father;
this he requested that I would transmit to England by some
safe hand. Immediately after his death, I went to the
English ambassador, who was then leaving Vienna, and
delivered the packet into his hands; he promised to have
it safely delivered. I was obliged to go the next day, with
the troops, to a distant part of the country. When I returned, I inquired at the convent what had become of Miss
St. Omar-I should say Mrs. Reynolds; and I was told
that she had removed from the convent to private lodgings
in the town, some time previous to the birth of her child.
The abbess seemed much scandalised by the whole transaction; and I remember I relieved her mind by assuring
her that there had been a regular marriage. For poor
young Reynolds's sake, Imade further inquiries about the
widow, intending, of course, to act as a friend, if she was
in any difficulty or distress. But I found, on inquiry at
her lodgings, that her brother had come from England for
her, and had carried her and her infant away. The active
scenes," continued the count, "in which I was immediately
afterwards engaged, drove the whole affair from my mind.
Now that your questions have recalled them, I feel certain
of the facts I have mentioned; and I am ready to establish
them by my testimony."
Lord Colambre thanked him with an eagerness that
showed how much he was interested in the event. It was
clear, he said, either that the packet left with the ambassador had not been delivered, or that the father of Mr.
Reynolds had suppressed the certificate of the marriage,
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as it had never been acknowledged by him or by any of
the family. Lord Colambre now frankly told the count
why he was so anxious about this affair; and Count
O'Halloran, with all the warmth of youth, and with all
the ardent generosity characteristic of his country, entered
into his feelings, declaring that he would never rest till he
had established the truth.
"Unfortunately," said the count, "the ambassador who
took the packet in charge is dead. I am afraid we shall
have difficulty."
"But he must have had some secretary," said Lord Colambre; "who was his secretary?-we can apply to him."
"His secretary is now c/arge' d'affaires in Vienna-we
cannot get at him."
"Into whose hands have that ambassador's papers fallen
-who is his executor? " said Lord Colambre.
"His executor!-now you have it," cried the count.
"His executor is the very man who will do your business
-your friend Sir James Brooke is the executor.   All
papers, of course, are in his hands; or he can have access
to any that are in the hands of the family. The family
seat is within a few miles of Sir James Brooke's, in Huntingdonshire, where, as I told you before, he now is."
"I'll go to him immediately-set out in the mail this
night. Just in time!" cried Lord Colambre, pulling out
his watch with one hand, and ringing the bell with the
other.
"Run and take a place for me in the mail for Huntingdon. Go directly," said Lord Colambre to the servant.
"And take two places, if you please, sir," said the count.
"My lord, I will accompany you."
But this Lord Colambre would not permit, as it would
be unnecessary to fatigue the good old general; and a letter
from him to Sir James Brooke would do all that the count
could effect by his presence; the search for the papers
would be made by Sir James, and if the packet could be
recovered, or if any memorandum or mode of ascertaining
that it had actually been delivered to old Reynolds could
be discovered, Lord Colambre said he would then call upon
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the count for his assistance, and trouble him to identify
the packet; or to go with him to Mr. Reynolds to make
further inquiries; and to certify, at all events, the young
man's dying acknowledgment of his marriage and of his
child.
The place in the mail, just in time, was taken. Lord
Colambre sent a servant in search of his father, with a note
explaining the necessity of his sudden departure. All the
business which remained to be done in town he knew Lord
Clonbrony could accomplish without his assistance. Then
he wrote a few lines to his mother, on the very sheet of
paper on which, a few hours before, he had sorrowfully and
slowly begunMy dear Mot/zher-Miss Nzgent.
He now joyfully and rapidly went onMv DEAR MOTHER AND MISS NUGENT,
I hope to be with you on Wednesday se'nnight; but if unforeseen circumstances should delay me, I will certainly write to
you again.-Dear mother, believe me, your obliged and
grateful son,                           COLAMBRE.
The count, in the meantime, wrote a letter for him to
Sir James Brooke, describing the packet which he had
given to the ambassador, and relating all the circumstances
that could lead to its recovery. Lord Colambre, almost
before the wax was hard, seized possession of the letter;
the count seeming almost as eager to hurry him off as he
was to set out. He thanked the count with few words,
but with strong feeling. Joy and love returned in full tide
upon our hero's soul; all the military ideas, which but an
hour before filled his imagination, were put to flight: Spain
vanished, and green Ireland reappeared.
Just as they shook hands at parting, the good old general, with a smile, said to him, "I believe I had better not
stir in the matter of Benson's commission till I hear more
from you. My harangue, in favour of the military profession, will, I fancy, prove like most other harangues, en
pure perte."
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CHAPTER XVI.
TN dha words of polite circumlocution, or of cautious
d iplomacy, shall we say, or hint, that the deceased
ambassador's papers were found in shameful disorder.
His excellency's executor, Sir James Brooke, however, was
indefatigable in his researches. He and Lord Golambre
spent two whole days in lookingr over portfolios of letters
and memorials, and manifestoes, and bundles of paper of
the most heterogeneous sorts; some of them without any
docket or direction to lead to a knowledge of their contents; others written upon in such a manner as to give an
erroneous notion of their nature; so that it was necessary
to untie every paper separately. At last, when they had
opened, as they thought, every paper, and, wearied and in
despair, wvere just on the point of giving up the search,
Lord Colambre spied a bundle of old newspapers at the
bottom of a trunk.
"They are only old Vienna Gazettes; I looked at them,"
said Sir James.
Lord Colambre, upon this assurance, was going to throw
them into the trunk again; but observing that the bundle
had not been untied, he opened it, and within-side of the
newspapers he found a rough copy of the ambassador's
journal, and with it the packet, directed to Ralph Reynolds
sen., Esq., Old Court, Suffolk, per favour of his excellency,
Earl -, a note on the cover, signed O'Halloran, stating
when received by him, and the date of the day when delivered to the ambassador-seals unbroken. Our hero was
in such a tran'sport of joy at the sight of this packet, and
his friend Sir James Brooke so full of his congratulations,
that they forgot to curse the ambassador's carelessness,
which had been the cause of so much evil.
The next thing to be done was to deliver the packet to
Ralph Reynolds, Old Court, Suffolk. But when Lord
Colambre arrived at Old Court, Suffolk, hle found all the
gates locked, and no admittance to be had. At last an old
woman came out of the porter's lodge, who said Mr.
Reynolds was not there, and she could not say where he
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was. After our hero had opened her heart by the present
of half a guinea, she explained, that she "could not justly
say where he was, because that he never let anybody of
his own people know where he was any day; he had sevefal
different houses and places in different parts, and far-off
counties, and other shires, as she heard, and by times he
was at one, and by times at another. The names of two
of the places, Toddrington and Little Wrestham, she knew;
but there were others to which she could give no direction.
He had houses in odd parts of London, too, that he let;
and sometimes, when the lodgers' time was out, he would
go, and be never heard of for a month, maybe, in one of
them. In short, there was no telling or saying where he
was or would be one day of the week, by where he had
been the last."
When Lord Colambre expressed some surprise that an
old gentleman, as he conceived Mr. Ralph Reynolds to be,
should change places so frequently, the old woman answered, "That though her master was a deal on the wrong
side of seventy, and though, to look at him, you'd think
he was glued to his chair, and would fall to pieces if he
should stir out of it, yet was as alert, and thought no more
of going about, than if he was as young as the gentleman
who was now speaking to her. It was old Mr. Reynolds's
delight to come down and surprise his people at his different places, and see that they were keeping all tight."
"What sort of a man is he?-Is he a miser? " said Lord
Colambre.
" He is a miser, and he is not a miser, " said the woman.
"Now he'd think as much of the waste of a penny as another man would of a hundred pounds, and yet he would
give a hundred pounds easier than another would give a
penny, when he's in the humour. But his humour is very
odd, and there's no knowing where to have him; he's grossgrained, and more positiver-like than a mule; and his deafness made him worse in this, because he never heard what
nobody said, but would say on his own way-he was very
odd, but not cracked-no, he was as clear-headed, when he
took a thing the right way, as any man could be, and as
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clever, and could talk as well as any member of Parliament,-and good-natured, and kind-hearted, where he
would take a fancy-but then, maybe, it would be to a
dog (he was remarkable fond of dogs), or a cat, or a rat
even, that he would take a fancy, and think more of 'em
than he would of a Christian. But, poor gentleman, there's
great allowance," said she, "to be made for him, that lost
his son and heir-that would have been heir to all, and a
fine youth that he doted upon. But," continued the old
woman, in whose mind the transitions from great to little,
from serious to trivial, were ludicrously abrupt, "that was
no reason why the old gentleman should scold me last time
he was here, as he did, for as long as ever he could stand
over me, only because I killed a mouse who was eating my
cheese; and, before night, he beat a boy for stealing a
piece of that same cheese; and he would never, when down
here, let me set a mouse-trap."
"Well, my good woman," interrupted Lord Colambre,
who was little interested in this affair of the mouse-trap,
and nowise curious to learn more of Mr. Reynolds's domestic economy, "I'll not trouble you any further, if you
can be so good as to tell me the road to Toddrington, or
to Little Wickham, I think you call it."
"Little Wickham!" repeated the woman, laughing"Bless you, sir, where do you come from?-It's Little
Wrestham; surely everybody knows, near Lantry; and
keep the pike till you come to the turn at Rotherford, and
then you strike off into the by-road to the left, and then
again turn at the ford to the right. But, if you are going
to Toddrington, you don't go the road to market, which
is at the first turn to the left, and the cross-country road,
where there's no quarter, and Toddrington lies-but for
Wrestham, you take the road to market."
It was some time before our hero could persuade the old
woman to stick to Little Wrestham, or to Toddrington,
and not to mix the directions for the different roads together-he took patience, for his impatience only confused
his director the more. In process of time, he made out,
and wrote down, the various turns that he was to follow,
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to reach Little Wrestham; but no human power could get
her from Little Wrestham to Toddrington, though she
knew the road perfectly well; but she had, for the seventeen last years, been used to go "the other road," and all
the carriers went that way, and passed the door, and that
was all she could certify.
Little Wrestham, after turning to the left and right as
often as his directory required, our hero happily reached;
but, unhappily, he found no Mr. Reynolds there; only a
steward, who gave nearly the same account of his master
as had been given by the old woman, and could not guess
even where the gentleman might now be. Toddrington
was as likely as any place-but he could not say.
"Perseverance against fortune." To Toddrington our
hero proceeded, through cross-country roads-such roads!
-very different from the Irish roads. Waggon ruts, into
which the carriage wheels sunk nearly to the nave-and,
from time to time, "sloughs of despond," through which
it seemed impossible to drag, walk, wade, or swim, and all
the time with a sulky postillion. "Oh, how unlike my
Larry!" thought Lord Colambre.
At length, in a very narrow lane, going up a hill, said to
be two miles of ascent, they overtook a heavy laden waggon, and they were obliged to go step by step behind it,
whilst, enjoying the gentleman's impatience much, and
the postillion's sulkiness more, the waggoner, in his embroidered frock, walked in state, with his long sceptre in
his hand.
The postillion muttered "curses not loud, but deep."
Deep or loud, no purpose would they have answered; the
waggoner's temper was proof against curse in or out of
the English language; and from their snail's pace neither
SDickens nor devil, nor any postillion in England, could
make him put his horses. Lord Colambre jumped out of
the chaise, and, walking beside him, began to talk to him;
and spoke of his horses, their bells, their trappings; the
beauty and strength of the thill-horse-the value of the
whole team, which his lordship happening to guess right
within ten pounds, and showing, moreover, some skill
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about road-making and waggon-wheels, and being fortunately of the waggoner's own opinion in the great question
about conical and cylindrical rims, he was pleased with
the young chap of a gentleman; and, in spite of the chuffiness of his appearance and churlishness of his speech, this
waggoner's bosom "being made of penetrating stuff," he
determined to let the gentleman pass. Accordingly, when
half-way up the hill, and the head of the fore-horse came
near an open gate, the waggoner, without saying one word
or turning his head, touched the horse with his long whip
-and the horse turned in at the gate, and then came"Dobbin!-Jeho! " and strange calls and sounds, which
all the other horses of the team obeyed; and the waggon
turned into the farmyard.
"Now, master! while I turn, you may pass."
The covering of the waggon caught in the hedge as the
waggon turned in; and as the sacking was drawn back,
some of the packages were disturbed-a cheese was just
rolling off on the side next Lord Colambre; he stopped it
from falling; the direction caught his quick eye-"To
Ralph Reynolds, Esq."-" Toddrington " scratched out;
"Red Lion Square, London," written in another hand
below.
"Now I have found him! And surely I know that
hand!" said Lord Colambre to himself, looking more
closely at the direction.
The original direction was certainly in a handwriting
well known to him- it was Lady Dashfort's.
"That there cheese, that you're looking at so cur'ously,"
said the waggoner, "has been a great traveller; for it came
all the way down from Lon'on, and now it's going all the
way up again back, on account of not finding the gentleman at home; and the man that booked it told me as how
it came from foreign parts."
Lord Colambre took down the direction, tossed the
honest waggoner a guinea, wished him good night, passed,
and went on. As soon as he could, he turned into the
London road-at the first town, got a place in the mailreached London-saw his father-went directly to his
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friend, Count O'Halloran, who was delighted when he beheld the packet. Lord Colambre was extremely eager to
go immediately to old Reynolds, fatigued as he was; for he
had travelled night and day, and had scarcely allowed himself, mind or body, one moment's repose.
"Heroes must sleep, and lovers too; or they soon will
cease to be heroes or lovers!" said the count. "Rest,
rest, perturbed spirit! this night; and to-morr6w morning
we'll finish the adventure in Red Lion Square, oi I will
accompany you when and where you will; if necessary, to
earth's remotest bounds."
The next morning Lord Colambre went to breakfast
with the count. The count, who was not in love, was not
up, for our hero was half an hour earlier than the time
appointed. The old servant Alick, who had attended his
master to England, was very glad to see Lord Colambre
again, and, showing him into the breakfast parlour, could
not help saying, in defence of his master's punctuality"Your clocks, I suppose, my lord, are half an hour
faster than ours; my master will be ready to the moment."
The count soon appeared-breakfast was soon over, and
the carriage at the door; for the count sympathised in his
young friend's impatience. As they were setting out, the
count's large Irish dog pushed out of the house door to
follow them; and his master would have forbidden him,
but Lord Colambre begged that he might be permitted to
accompany them; for his lordship recollected the old woman's having mentioned that Mr. Reynolds was fond of
dogs.
They arrived in Red Lion Square, found the house of
Mr. Reynolds, and, contrary to the count's prognostics,
found the old gentleman up, and they saw him in his red
night-cap at his parlour window. After some minutes'
running backwards and forwards of a boy in the passage,
and two or three peeps taken over the blinds by the old
gentleman, they were admitted.
The boy could not master their names; so they were
obliged reciprocally to announce themselves -"Count
O'Halloran and Lord Colambre." The names seemed to
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make no impression on the old gentleman; but he deliberately looked at the count and his lordship, as if studying
what rather than who they were. In spite of the red
night-cap, and a flowered dressing-gown, Mr. Reynolds
looked like a gentleman, an odd gentleman-but still a
gentleman.
As Count O'Halloran came into the room, and as his
large dog attempted to follow, the count's voice expressed:
"Say, shall I let him in, or shut the door? "
"Oh, let him in, by all means, sir, if you please! I am
fond of dogs; and a finer one I never saw; pray, gentlemen, be seated," said he-a portion of the complacency
inspired by the sight of the dog, diffusing itself over his
manner towards the master of so fine an animal, and even
extending to the master's companion, though in an inferior
degree. Whilst Mr. Reynolds stroked the dog, the count
told him that "the dog was of a curious breed, now almost
extinct-the Irish greyhound, of which only one nobleman in Ireland, it is said, has now a few of the species remaining in his possession- Now, lie down, Hannibal,"
said the count.  "Mr. Reynolds, we have taken the
liberty, though strangers, of waiting upon you--"
"I beg your pardon, sir," interrupted Mr. Reynolds;
"but did I understand you rightly, that a few of the same
species are still to be had from one nobleman in Ireland?
Pray, what is his name?" said he, taking out his pencil.
The count wrote the name for him, but observed, that
"he had asserted only that a few of these dogs remained
in the possession of that nobleman; he could not answer
for it that they were to be had."
"Oh, I have ways and means," said old Reynolds; and,
rapping his snuff-box, and talking, as it was his custom,
aloud to himself, "Lady Dashfort knows all those Irish
lords; she shall get one for me-ay! ay! "
Count O'Halloran replied, as if the words had been
addressed to him"Lady Dashfort is in England."
"I know it, sir; she is in London," said Mr. Reynolds,
hastily. "What do you know of her?"
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"I know, sir, that she is not likely to return to Ireland,
and that I am; and so is my young friend here; and if the
thing can be accomplished, we will get it done for you."
Lord Colambre joined in this promise, and added that,
"if the dog could be obtained, he would undertake to have
him safely sent over to England."
"Sir-gentlemen! I'm much obliged; that is, when you
have done the thing I shall be much obliged. But, maybe,
you are only making me civil speeches! "
"' Of that, sir,'' said the count, smiling with much temper,
"your own sagacity and knowledge of the world must
enable you to judge."
"For my own part, I can only say," cried Lord Colambre, "that I am not in the habit of being reproached
with saying one thing and meaning another."
"Hot! I see," said old Reynolds, nodding, as he looked
at Lord Colambre. "Cool!" added he, nodding at the
count. "But a time for everything; I was hot once-both
answers good, for their ages."
This speech Lord Colambre and the count tacitly agreed
to consider as another apart, which they were not to hear,
or seem to hear. The count began again on the business
of their visit, as he saw that Lord Colambre was boiling
with impatience, and feared that he should boil over, and
spoil all. The count commenced with"Mr. Reynolds, your name sounds to me like the name
of a friend; for I had once a friend of that name; I had
once the pleasure (and a very great pleasure it was to me)
to be intimately acquainted abroad, on the Continent, with
a very amiable and gallant youth-your son! "
"Take care, sir," said the old man, starting up from his
chair, and instantly sinking down again,-"take care!
Don't mention him to me-unless you would strike me
dead on the spot! "
The convulsed motions of his fingers and face worked
for some moments; whilst the count and Lord Colambre,
much shocked and alarmed, stood in silence.
The convulsed motions ceased; and the old man unbuttoned his waistcoat, as if to relieve some sense of expres254




THE ABSENTEE


sion; uncovered his grey hairs; and, after leaning back to
rest himself, with his eyes fixed, and in reverie for a few
moments, he sat upright again in his chair, and exclaimed,
as he looked round"Son!-Did not somebody say that word? Who is so
cruel to say that word before me?  Nobody has ever
spoken of him to me-but once, since his death! Do you
know, sir," said he, fixing his eyes on Count O'Halloran,
and laying his cold hand on him, "do you know where he
was buried, I ask you, sir? do you remember how he
died?"
"Too well! too well! " cried the count, so much affected
as to be scarcely able to pronounce the words; "he died in
my arms; I buried him myself!"
"Impossible! " cried Mr. Reynolds. "Why do you say
so, sir?" said he, studying the count's face with a sort of
bewildered earnestness. "Impossible! His body was sent
over to me in a lead coffin; and I saw it-and I was asked
-and I answered, 'in the family vault.' But the shock is
over," said he; "and, gentlemen, if the business of your
visit relates to that subject, I trust I am now sufficiently
composed to attend to you. Indeed, I ought to be prepared; for I had reason, for years, to expect the stroke;
and yet, when it came, it seemed sudden!-it stunned me
-put an end to all my worldly prospects-left me childless, without a single descendant or relation near enough
to be dear to me! I am an insulated being! "
"No, sir, you are not an insulated being," said Lord
Colambre; "you have a near relation, who will, who must
be dear to you; who will make you amends for all you have
lost, all you have suffered-who will bring peace and joy
to your heart. You have a grand-daughter."
"No, sir; I have no grand-daughter," said old Reynolds,
his face and whole form becoming rigid with the expression
of obstinacy. " Rather have no descendant than be forced
to acknowledge an illegitimate child."
"My lord, I entreat as a friend-I command you to be
patient," said the count, who saw Lord Colambre's indignation suddenly rise,
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"So, then, this is the purpose of your visit," continued
old Reynolds; "and you come from my enemies, from the
St. Omars, and you are in league with them," continued
old Reynolds; "and all this time it is of my eldest son you
have been talking."
"Yes, sir," replied the count; "of Captain Reynolds,
who fell in battle, in the Austrian service, about nineteen
years ago-a more gallant and amiable youth never lived."
Pleasure revived through the dull look of obstinacy in
the father's eyes.
"He was, as you say, sir, a gallant, an amiable youth,
once-and he was my pride, and I loved him, too, oncebut did n.ot you know I had another? "
"No, sir, we did not-we are, you may perceive, totally
ignorant of your family and of your affairs-we have no
connexion whatever or knowledge of any of the St. Omars."
"I detest the sound of the name," cried Lord Colambre.
"Oh, good! good!-Well! well! I beg your pardon,
gentlemen, a thousand times-I am a hasty, very hasty
old man; but I have been harassed, persecuted, hunted
by wretches, who got a scent of my gold; often in my rage
I longed to throw my treasure-bags to my pursuers, and
bid them leave me to die in peace. You have feelings, I
see, both of you, gentlemen; excuse me, and bear with
my temper."
"Bear with you! Much enforced, the best tempers will
emit a hasty spark," said the count, looking at Lord Colambre, who was now cool again; and who, with a countenance full of compassion, sat with his eyes fixed upon the
poor-no, not the poor, but the unhappy old man.
"Yes, I had another son," continued Mr. Reynolds,
"and on him all my affections concentrated when I lost my
eldest, and for him I desired to preserve the estate which
his mother brought into my family. Since you know nothing of my affairs, let me explain to you; that estate was
so settled, that it would have gone to the child, even the
daughter of my eldest son, if there had been a legitimate
child. But I knew there was no marriage, and I held out
firm to my opinion.  'If there was a marriage,' said I,
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'show me the marriage certificate, and I will acknowledge
the marriage, and acknowledge the child'; but they could
not, and I knew they could not; and I kept the estate for
my darling boy," cried the old gentleman, with the exultation of successful positiveness again appearing strong in his
physiognomy; but suddenly changing and relaxing, his
countenance fell, and he added, "But now I have no darling boy. What use all!-all must go to the heir-at-law, or
I must will it to a stranger-a lady of quality, who has just
found out she is my relation-God knows how-I'm no
genealogist-and sends me Irish cheese and Iceland moss,
for my breakfast, and her waiting-gentlewoman to nambypamby me. Oh, I'm sick of it all-see through it-wish I
was blind-wish I had a hiding-place, where flatterers could
not find me-pursued, chased-must change my lodgings
again to-morrow-will, will-I beg your pardon, gentlemen, again; you were going to tell me, sir, something
more of my eldest son; and how I was led away from the
subject, I don't know; but I meant only to have assured
you that his memory was dear to me, till I was so tormented about that unfortunate affair of his pretended
marriage, that at length I hated to hear him named; but
the heir-at-law, at last, will triumph over me."
"No, my good sir, not if you triumph over yourself, and
do justice," cried Lord Colambre; "if you listen to the
truth, which my friend will tell you, and if you will read
and believe the confirmation of it, under your son's own
hand, in this packet."
"His own hand indeed! His seal-unbroken. But how
-when-where-why was it kept so long, and how came it
into your hands?"
Count O'Halloran told Mr. Reynolds that the packet
had been given to him by Captain Reynolds on his deathbed; related the dying acknowledgment which Captain
Reynolds had made of his marriage; and gave an account
of the delivery of the packet to the ambassador, who had
promised to transmit it faithfully. Lord Colambre told
the manner in which it had been mislaid, and at last recovered from among the deceased ambassador's papers.


"i7


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The father still gazed at the direction, and re-examined
the seals.
" My son's handwriting-my son's seals! But where is
the certificate of the marriage?" repeated he; "if it is
within-side of this packet, I have done great in-  but I
am convinced it never was a marriage. Yet I wish now it
could be proved-only, in that case, I have for years done
great--"
"Won't you open the packet, sir? " said Lord Colambre.
Mr. Reynolds looked up at him with a look that said, "I
don't clearly know what interest you have in all this." But,
unable to speak, and his hands trembling so that he could
scarcely break the seals, he tore off the cover, laid the
papers before him, sat down, and took breath. Lord Colambre, however impatient, had now too much humanity
to hurry the old gentleman; he only ran for the spectacles,
which he espied on the chimney-piece, rubbed them bright,
and held them ready. Mr. Reynolds stretched his hand
out for them, put them on, and the first paper he opened
was the certificate of the marriage; he read it aloud, and,
putting it down, said"Now I acknowledge the marriage. I always said, if
there is a marriage there must be a certificate. And you
see now there is a certificate-I acknowledge the marriage."
"And now," cried Lord Colambre, "I am happy, positively happy. Acknowledge your grand-daughter, siracknowledge Miss Nugent."
"Acknowledge who, sir? "
"Acknowledge Miss Reynolds-your grand-daughter; I
ask no more-do what you will with your fortune."
"Oh, now I understand-I begin to understand-this
young gentleman is in love-but where is my granddaughter?-how shall I know she is my grand-daughter?
I have not heard of her since she was an infant-I forgot
her existence-I have done her great injustice."
"She knows nothing of it, sir," said Lord Colambre,
who now entered into a full explanation of Miss Nugent's
history, and of her connexion with his family, and of his
own attachment to her; concluding the whole by assuring
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Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every virtue
under heaven. "And as to your fortune, sir, I know that
she will, as I do, say--"
"No matter what she will say," interrupted old Reynolds;
"where is she? When I see her, I shall hear what she says.
Tell me where she is-let me see her. I long to see whether
there is any likeness to her poor father. Where is she?
Let me see her immediately."
"She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir, at Buxton."
"Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles?
I suppose you think I can't stir from my chair, but you
are mistaken. I think nothing of a journey of a hundred
and sixty miles-I'm ready to set off to-morrow-this
instant."
Lord Colambre said, that he was sure Miss Reynolds
would obey her grandfather's slightest summons, as it was
her duty to do, and would be with him as soon as possible,
if this would be more agreeable to him. "I will write to
her instantly," said his lordship, "if you will commission
me.
"No, my lord, I do not commission-I will go-I think
nothing, I say, of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles
-I'll go-and set out to-morrow morning."
Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with
the result of their visit, now thought it best to leave old
Reynolds at liberty to rest himself, after so many strong
and varied feelings. They paid their parting compliments,
settled the time for the next day's journey, and were just
going to quit the room when Lord Colambre heard in the
passage a well-known voice-the voice of Mrs. Petito.
"Oh no, my compliments, and my Lady Dashfort's best
compliments, and I will call again."
"No, no," cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; "I'll
have no calling again-I'll be hanged if I do! Let her in
now, and I'll see her-Jack! let in that woman now or
never.
"The lady's gone, sir, out of the street-door."
"After her, then-now or never, tell her."
"Sir, she was in a hackney coach."
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Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing the hackney coachman just turning, beckoned at the window, and Mrs. Petito was set down again,
and ushered in by Jack, who announced her as"The lady, sir."  The only lady he had seen in that
house.
"My dear Mr. Reynolds, I'm so obliged to you for letting me in," cried Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the
passage, and speaking in a voice and manner well mimicked
after her betters. "You are so very good and kind, and
I am so much obliged to you."
"You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor
kind," said old Reynolds.
"You strange man," said Mrs. Petito, advancing graceful in shawl drapery; but she stopped short. "My Lord
Colambre and Count O'Halloran, as I hope to be saved! "
"I did not know Mrs. Petito was an acquaintance of
yours, gentlemen," said Mr. Reynolds, smiling shrewdly.
Count O'Halloran was too polite to deny his acquaintance with a lady who challenged it by thus naming him;
but he had not the slightest recollection of her, though it
seems he had met her on the stairs when he visited Lady
Dashfort at Killpatrickstown. Lord Colambre was "indeed undeniably an old acquaintance "; and as soon as she
had recovered from her first natural start and vulgar exclamation, she with very easy familiarity hoped "My Lady
Clonbrony, and my lord, and Miss Nugent, and all her
friends in the family, were well"; and said, "she did not
know whether she was to congratulate his lordship or not
upon Miss Broadhurst, my Lady Berryl's marriage, but
she should soon have to hope for his lordship's congratulations for another marriage in her present family-Lady
Isabel to Colonel Heathcock, who has come in for a large
portion, and they are buying the wedding clothes-sights
of clothes-and the di'monds, this day; and Lady Dashfort and my Lady Isabel sent me especially, sir, to you,
Mr. Reynolds, and to tell you, sir, before anybody else;
and to hope the cheese come safe up again at last; and to
ask whether the Iceland moss agrees with your chocolate,
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and is palatable; it's the most diluent thing upon the universal earth, and the most tonic and fashionable-the
Dutches of Torcaster takes it always for breakfast, and
Lady St. James too is quite a convert, and I hear the
Duke of V--  takes it too."
"And the devil may take it too, for anything that I
care," said old Reynolds.
"Oh, my dear, dear sir! you are so refractory a patient."
"I am no patient at all, ma'am, and have no patience
either; I am as well as you are, or my Lady Dashfort
either, and hope, God willing, long to continue so."
Mrs. Petito smiled aside at Lord Colambre, to mark her
perception of the man's strangeness. Then, in a cajoling
voice, addressing herself to the old gentleman"Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven grants
my daily and nightly prayers, and my Lady Dashfort's
also. So, Mr. Reynolds, if the ladies' prayers are of any
avail, you ought to be surely, and I suppose ladies' prayers
have the precedency in efficacy. But it was not of prayers
and deathbed affairs I came commissioned to treat-not of
burials, which Heaven above forbid, but of weddings my
diplomacy was to speak; and to premise my Lady Dashfort would have come herself in her carriage, but is hurried
out of her senses, and my Lady Isabel could not in proper
modesty; so they sent me as their double, to hope you, my
dear Mr. Reynolds, who is one of the family relations, will
honour the wedding with your presence."
"It would be no honour, and they know that as well as
I do," said the intractable Mr. Reynolds. "It will be no
advantage, either; but that they do not know as well as I
do. Mrs. Petito, to save you and your lady all trouble
about me in future, please to let my Lady Dashfort know
that I have just received and read the certificate of my son
Captain Reynolds's marriage with Miss St. Omar. I have
acknowledged the marriage. Better late than never; and
to-morrow morning, God willing, shall set out with this
young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to see, and intend publicly to acknowledge, my grand-daughter-provided she will acknowledge me."
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" Crimini!." exclaimed Mrs. Petito, "what new turns
are here! Well, sir, I shall tell my lady of the metamorphoses that have taken place, though by what magic (as I
have not the honour to deal in the black art) I can't guess.
But, since it seems annoying and inopportune, I shall take
my finale, and shall thus have a verbal P.P. C.-as you are
leaving town, it seems, for Buxton so early in the morning.
My Lord Colambre, if I see rightly into a millstone, as I
hope and believe I do on the present occasion, I have to
congratulate your lordship (haven't I?) upon something
like a succession, or a windfall, in this denewment. And I
beg you'll make my humble respects acceptable to the cidevant Miss Grace Nugent that was; and I won't derrogate
her by any other name in the interregnum, as I am persuaded it will only be a temporary name, scarce worth assuming, except for the honour of the public adoption; and
that will, I'm confident, be soon exchanged for a viscount's
title, or I have no sagacity nor sympathy. I hope I don't
(pray don't let me) put you to the blush, my lord."
Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have
helped it.
"Count O'Halloran, your most obedient! I had the
honour of meeting you at Killpatrickstown," said Mrs.
Petito, backing to the door, and twitching her shawl. She
stumbled, nearly fell down, over the large dog-caught by
the door, and recovered herself. Hannibal rose and shook
his ears. "'Poor fellow! you are of my acquaintance too."
She would have stroked his head; but Hannibal walked off
indignant, and so did she.
Thus ended certain hopes; for Mrs. Petito had conceived
that her diplomacy might be turned to account; that in her
character of an ambassadress, as Lady Dashfort's double,
by the aid of Iceland moss in chocolate, flattery properly
administered; that, by bearing with all her dear Mr.
Reynolds's oddnesses and roughnesses, she might in timethat is to say, before he made a new will-become his dear
Mrs. Petito; or (for stranger things have happened and do
happen every day) his dear Mrs. Reynolds! Mrs. Petito,
however, was good at a retreat; and she flattered herself
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that at least nothing of this underplot had appeared; and
at all events she secured by her services in this embassy,
the long-looked-for object of her ambition, Lady Dashfort's
scarlet velvet gown-"not yet a thread the worse for the
wear! "  One cordial look at this comforted her for the loss
of her expected octogcnaire; and she proceeded to discomfit
her lady, by repeating the message with which strange old
Mr. Reynolds had charged her.-So ended all Lady Dashfort's hopes of his fortune.
Since the death of his youngest son, she had been indefatigable in her attentions, and sanguine in her hopes; the
disappointment affected both her interest and her pride, as
an intrigante.  It was necessary, however, to keep her
feelings to herself; for if Heathcock should hear anything
of the matter before the articles were signed, he might
"be off! "-so she put him and Lady Isabel into her coach
directly-drove to Gray's, to make sure at all events of the
jewels.
In the meantime Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre,
delighted with the result of their visit, took leave of Mr.
Reynolds, after having arranged the journey, and appointed
the hour for setting off the next day. Lord Colambre proposed to call upon Mr. Reynolds in the evening, and introduce his father, Lord Clonbrony; but Mr. Reynolds
said"No, no! I'm   not ceremonious.  I have given you
proofs enough of that, I think, in the short time we've
been already acquainted. Time enough to introduce your
father to me when we are in a carriage, going our journey;
then we can talk, and get acquainted; but merely to come
this evening in a hurry, and say, 'Lord Clonbrony, Mr.
Reynolds;-Mr. Reynolds, Lord Clonbrony,' and then bob
our two heads at one another, and scrape one foot back,
and away!-where's the use of that nonsense at my time
of life, or at any time of life? No, no! we havc enough
to do without that, I daresay.- Good morning to you,
Count O'Halloran! I thank you heartily. From the first
moment I saw you, I liked you; lucky too that you brought
your dog with you! 'Twas Hannibal made me first let
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you in; I saw him over the top of the blind.--Hannibal,
my good fellow! I'm more obliged to you than you can
guess.
"So are we all," said Lord Colambre.
Hannibal was well patted, and then they parted. In returning home they met Sir James Brooke.
"I told you," said Sir James, "I should be in London
almost as soon as you. Have you found old Reynolds?"
"Just come from him."
"How does your business prosper? I hope as well as
mine."
A history of all that had passed up to the present moment was given, and hearty congratulations received.
"Where are you going now, Sir James?--cannot you
come with us?" said Lord Colambre and the count.
"Impossible," replied Sir James;-" but, perhaps, you
can come with me-I'm going to Gray's, to give some old
family diamonds, either to be new set or exchanged.
Count O'Halloran, I know you are a judge of these things;
pray, come and give me your opinion."
"Better consult your bride elect! " said the count.
"No; she knows little of the matter-and cares less,"
replied Sir James.
"Not so this bride elect, or I mistake her much," said
the count, as they passed by the window and saw Lady
Isabel, who, with Lady Dashfort, had been holding consultation deep with the jeweller; and Heathcock, playing
personnage muet.
Lady Dashfort, who had always, as old Reynolds expressed it, "her head upon her shoulders "-presence of
mind where her interests were concerned-ran to the door
before the count and Lord Colambre could enter, giving a
hand to each-as if they had all parted the best friends in
the world.
"How do? how do?-Give you joy! give me joy! and
all that.  But mind! not a word," said she, laying her
finger upon her lips-"not a word before Heathcock of
old Reynolds, or of the best part of the old fool,-his
fortune!"
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The gentlemen bowed, in sign of submission to her lady
ship's commands; and comprehended that she feared Heathcock might be off, if the best part of his bride (her fortune,
or her expectations) were lowered in value or in prospect.
"How low is she reduced," whispered Lord Colambre,
"when such a husband is thought a prize-and to be secured by a manceuvre!"  He sighed.
"Spare that generous sigh! " said Sir James Brooke; "it
is wasted."
Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror,
at which she was trying on a diamond crescent. Her face
clouded at sight of Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre,
and grew dark as hatred when she saw Sir James Brooke.
She walked away to the farther end of the shop, and asked
one of the shopmen the price of a diamond necklace which
lay upon the counter.
The man said, "He really did not know; it belonged to
Lady Oranmore; it had just been new set for one of her
ladyship's daughters, who is going to be married to Sir
James Brooke-one of the gentlemen, my lady, who are
just come in."
Then, calling to his master, he asked him the price of
the necklace; he named the value, which was considerable.
"I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters
were vastly too philosophical to think of diamonds," said
Lady Isabel to her mother, with a sort of sentimental
sneer in her voice and countenance. "But it is some comfort to me to find, in these pattern-women, philosophy and
love do not so wholly engross the heart, that they 'feel
every vanity in fondness lost.' "
" 'Twould be difficult, in some cases," thought many
present.
"'Pon honour, di'monds are cursed expensive things, I
know! " said Heathcock. "But, be that as it may," whispered he to the lady, though loud enough to be heard by
others, "I've laid a damned round wager, that no woman's
diamonds married this winter, under a countess, in Lon'on,
shall eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock's!--and Mr. Gray
here's to be judge."
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Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest
smiles; with one of those smiles which she had formerly
bestowed upon Lord Colambre, and which he had once
fancied expressed so much sensibility-such discriminative
and delicate application.
Our hero felt so much contempt, that he never wasted
another sigh of pity for her degradation. Lady Dashfort
came up to him as he was standing alone; and, whilst the
count and Sir James were settling about the diamonds"My Lord Colambre, " said she, in a low voice, "I know
your thoughts, and I could moralise as well as you, if I
did not prefer laughing-you are right enough; and so am
I, and so is Isabel; we are all right. For look here: women have not always the liberty of choice, and therefore they
can't be expected to have always the power of refusal."
The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got
into her carriage with her daughter, her daughter's diamonds, and her precious son-in-law, her daughter's companion for life.
"The more I see," said Count O'Halloran to Lord Colambre, as they left the shop, "the more I find reason to
Ucongratulate you upon your escape, my dear lord."
"I owe it not to my own wit or wisdom," said Lord
Colambre; "but much to love, and much to friendship,"
added he, turning to Sir James Brooke; "here was the
friend who early warned me against the siren's voice; who,
before I knew the Lady Isabel, told me what I have since
found to be true, that
STwo passions alternately govern her fateHer business is love, but her pleasure is hate."
"That is dreadfully severe, Sir James," said Count
O'Halloran; "but I am afraid it is just."
"I am sure it is just, or I would not have said it," replied
Sir James Brooke. "For the foibles of the sex, I hope, I have
as much indulgence as any man, and for the errors of passion as much pity; but I cannot repress the indignation, the
abhorrence I feel against women, cold and vain, who use
their wit and their charms only to make others miserable."
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Lord Colambre recollected at this moment Lady Isabel's
look and voice, when she declared that "she would let her
little finger be cut off to purchase the pleasure of inflicting
on Lady de Cresey, for one hour, the torture of jealousy."
"Perhaps," continued Sir James Brooke, "now that I
am going to marry into an Irish family, I may feel, with
peculiar energy, disapprobation of this mother and daughter
on another account; but you, Lord Colambre, will do me
the justice to recollect that, before I had any personal interest in the country, I expressed, as a general friend to
Ireland, antipathy to those who return the hospitality they
received from a warm-hearted people, by publicly setting
the example of elegant sentimental hypocrisy, or daring
disregard of decorum, by privately endeavouring to destroy
the domestic peace of families, on which, at last, public as
well as private virtue and happiness depend. I do rejoice,
my dear Lord Colambre, to hear you say that I had any
share in saving you from the siren; and now, I will never
speak of these ladies more. I am sorry you cannot stay in
town to see--but why should I be sorry-we shall meet
again, I trust, and I shall introduce you; and you, I hope,
will introduce me to a very different charmer. Farewell!
-you have my warm good wishes wherever you go."
Sir James turned off quickly to the street in which Lady
Oranmore lived, and Lord Colambre had not time to tell
him that he knew and admired his intended bride. Count
O'Halloran promised to do this for him. "And now,"
said the good count, "I am to take leave of you; and I assure you I do it with so much reluctance that nothing less
than positive engagements to stay in town would prevent
me from setting off with you to-morrow; but I shall be
soon, very soon, at liberty to return to Ireland; and Clonbrony Castfe, if you will give me leave, I will see before I
see Halloran Castle."
Lord Colambre joyfully thanked his friend for this
promise.
"Nay, it is to indulge myself. I long to see you happy
-long to behold the choice of such a heart as yours. Pray
do not stealda d,  m----upon-n--le,-me knw in time. T
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will leave everything-even the siege of   for your
wedding. But I trust I shall be in time."
"Assuredly you will, my dear count; if ever that wedding-"
"If," repeated the count.
"If," repeated Lord Colambre.   "Obstacles which,
when we last parted, appeared to me invincible, prevented
my having ever even attempted to make an impression on
the heart of the woman I love; and if you kriew her,
count, as well as I do, you would know that her love could
not unsought be won.
"Of that I cannot doubt, or she would not be your
choice; but when her love is sought, we have every reason
to hope," said the count, smiling, "that it may, because
it ought to be won by tried honour and affection. I only
require to be left in hope."
"Well, I leave you hope," said Lord Colambre; "Miss
Nugent-Miss Reynolds, I should say, has been in the
habit of considering a union with me as impossible; my
mother early instilled this idea into her mind.  Miss
Nugent thought that duty forbade her to think of me; she
told me so: I have seen it in all her conduct and manners.
The barriers of habit, the ideas of duty, cannot, ought not,
to be thrown down or suddenly changed in a well-regulated
female mind. And you, I am sure, know enough of the
best female hearts, to be aware that time-"
"Well, well, let this dear good charmer take her own
time, provided there's none given to affectation, or prudery,
or coquetry; and from all these, of course, she must be
free; and of course I must be content. Adieu au revoir."
CHAPTER XVII.
A S Lord Colambre was returning home, he was overtaken by Sir Terence O'Fay.
"Well, my lord," cried Sir Terence, out of breath,
"you have led me a pretty dance all over the town; here's
a letter somewhere down in my safe pocket for you, which
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has cost me trouble enough. Phoo! where is it now?-it's
from Miss Nugent," said he, holding up the letter. The
direction to Grosvenor Square, London, had been scratched
out; and it had been re-directed by Sir Terence to the
Lord Viscount Colambre, at Sir James Brooke's, Bart.,
Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, or elsewhere, with speed.
"But the more haste the worse speed; for away it went to
Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, where I knew, if anywhere,
you was to be found; but, as fate and the post would have
it, there the letter went coursing after you, while you were
running round, and back and forwards, and everywhere, I
understand, to Toddrington and Wrestham, and where
not, through all them English places, where there's no
cross-post; so I took it for granted that it found its way
to the dead-letter office, or was sticking up across a pane
in the d-d postmaster's window at Huntingdon, for the
whole town to see, and it a love-letter, and some puppy to
claim it, under false pretence; and you all the time without it, and it might breed a coolness betwixt you and Miss
Nugent."
"But, my dear Sir Terence, give me the letter now you
have me."
"Oh, my dear lord, if you knew what a race I have had,
missing you here by five minutes, and there by five seconds
-but I have you at last, and you have it-and I'm paid
this minute for all I liquidated of my substance, by the
pleasure I have in seeing you crack the seal and read it.
But take care you don't tumble over the orange womanorange barrows are a great nuisance, when one's studying
a letter in the streets of London or the metropolis. But
never heed; stick to my arm, and I '11 guide you, like a
blind man, safe through the thick of them."
Miss Nugent's letter, which Lord Colambre read in spite
of the jostling of passengers, and the incessant talking of
Sir Terence, was as follows:
Let me not be the cause of banishing you from your home
and your country, where you would do so much good, and
make so many hcppy. Let me knot be th  cause of your
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breaking your promise to your mother; of your disappointing
my dear aunt, so cruelly, who has complied with all our wishes,
and who sacrifices, to oblige us, her favourite tastes. How
could she ever be happy in Ireland-how could Clonbrony
Castle be a home to her, without her son? If you take away all
she had of amusement andpleasure, as it is called, are not you
bound to give her, in their stead, that domestic happiness,
which she can enjoy only with you, and by your means? If, instead of living with her, you go into the army, she will be in
daily, nightly anxiety and alarm about you; and her son will,
instead of being a comfort, be a source of torment to her.
I will hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto
done, on every occasion where I have seen you act, what is
right, and just, and kind. Come here on the day you promised
my aunt you would; before that time I shall be in Cambridgeshire, with my friend Lady Berryl; she is so good as to come to
Buxton for me-I shall remain with her, instead of returning to
Ireland. I have explained my reasons to my dear aunt--
Could I have any concealment from her, to whom, from my
earliest childhood, I owe everything that kindness and affection
could give? She is satisfied-she consents to my living henceforward with Lady Berryl. Let me have the pleasure of seeing,
by your conduct, that you approve of mine.-Your affectionate
cousin and friend,                   GRACE NUGENT.
This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him,
are capable of feeling honourable and generous conduct,
gave our hero exquisite pleasure. Poor, good-natured Sir
Terence O'Fay enjoyed his lordship's delight; and forgot
himself so completely, that he never even inquired whether
Lord Colambre had thought of an affair on which he had
spoken to him some time before, and which materially concerned Sir Terence's interest. The next morning, when
the carriage was at the door, and Sir Terence was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and actually in
tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he
said there was none left now in London, or the wide world,
even, for him-Lord Colambre went up to him, and said,
"Sir Terence, you have never inquired whether I have
done your business?"
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"Oh, my dear, I'm not thinking of that now -time
enough by the post - I can write after you; but my
thoughts won't turn for me to business now-no matter."
"Your business is done," replied Lord Colambre.
"Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you
had upon your mind and heart. When anything's upon
my heart, good morning to my head, it's not worth a
lemon. Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly, and all
happiness attend you."
"Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O'Fay," said Lord
Clonbrony; "and, since it's so ordered, I must live without you."
"Oh! you'll live better without me, my lord; I am not
a good liver, I know, nor the best of all companions for a
nobleman, young or old; and now you'll be rich, and not
put to your shifts and your wits, what would I have to do
for you?-Sir Terence O'Fay, you know, was only the poor
nobleman's friend, and you'll never want to call upon him
again, thanks to your jewel, your Pitt's-di'mond of a son
there. So we part here, and depend upon it you're better
without me-that's all my comfort, or my heart would
break. The carriage is waiting this long time, and this
young lover's itching to be off. God bless you both!that's my last word."
They called in Red Lion Square, punctual to the moment, on old Mr. Reynolds, but his window-shutters were
shut; he had been seized in the night with a violent fit of
the gout, which, as he said, held him fast by the leg. "But
here," said he, giving Lord Colambre a letter, "here's what
will do your business without me. Take this written
acknowledgment I have penned for you, and give my
grand-daughter her father's letter to read-it would touch
a heart of stone--touched mine-wish I could drag the
mother back out of her grave, to do her justice-all one
now. You see at last I'm not a suspicious rascal, however, for I don't suspect you of palming a false granddaughter upon me."
"Will you," said Lord Colambre, "give your granddaughter leave to come up to town to you, sir? You
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would satisfy yourself, at least, as to what resemblance she
may bear to her father; Miss Reynolds will come instantly,
and she will nurse you."
" No, no; I won't have her come. If she comes, I won't
see her-shan't begin by nursing me-not selfish. As
soon as I get rid of this gout, I shall be my own man, and
young again, and I'll soon be after you across the sea, that
shan't stop me; I'll come to-what's the name of your
place in Ireland?- and see what likeness I can find to
her poor father in this gran d-claughter of mine, that you
puffed so finely yesterday. And let me see whether she
will wheedle me as finely as Mrs. Petito would. Don't get
ready your marriage settlements, do you hear, till you have
seen my will, which I shall sign at-what's the name of
your place? Write it down there; there's pen and ink;
and leave me, for the twinge is coming, and I shall roar."
"Will you permit me, sir, to leave my own servant with
you to take ca 're of you? I can answer for his attention
and fidelity. "
"Let me see his face, and I'll tell you." Lord Colambre's servant was summoned.
"Yes, I like his face. God bless you!-Leave me."
Lord Colambre gave his servant a charge to bear with
Mr. Reynolds's rough manner and temper, and to pay the
poor old gentleman every possible attention. Then our
hero proceeded with his father on his journey, and on this
journey nothing happened worthy of note. On his first
perusal of the letter from Grace, Lord Colambre had feared
that she would have left Buxton with Lady Berryl before
he could reach it; but, upon recollection, he hoped that
the few lines he had written, addressed to his mother and
Miss Nugent, with the assurance that he should be with
them on Wednesday, would be sufficient to show her that
some great change had happened, and consequently sufficient to prevent her from quitting her aunt, till she could
know whether such a separation would be necessary. He
argued wisely, more wisely than Grace had reasoned; for,
notwithstanding this note, she would have left Buxton before his arrival, but for Lady Berryl's strength of mind,
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and positive determination not to set out with her till Lord
Colambre should arrive to explain. In the interval, poor
Grace was, indeed, in an anxious state of suspense; and
her uncertainty, whether she was doing right or wrong, by
staying to see Lord Colambre, tormented her most.
"My dear, you cannot help yourself; be quiet," said
Lady Berryl; "I will take the whole upon my conscience;
and I hope my conscience may never have anything worse
to answer for."
Grace was the first person who, from her window, saw
Lord Colambre, the instant the carriage drove to the door.
She ran to her friend Lady Berryl's apartment"'He is come!-Now, take me away! "''
"Not yet, my sweet friend! Lie down upon this sofa,
if you please; and keep yourself tranquil, whilst I go and
see what you ought to do; and depend upon me for a true
friend, in whose mind, as in your own, duty is the first
object."
"I depend on you entirely," said Grace, sinking down
on the sofa; "and you see I obey you! "
"Many thanks to you for lying down, when you can't
stand."
Lady Berryl went to Lady Clonbrony's apartment; she
was met by Sir Arthur.
"Come, my love! come quick!- Lord Colambre is
arrived."
"I know it; and does he go to Ireland? Speak instantly, that I may tell Grace Nugent."
"You can tell her nothing yet, my love; for we know
nothing. Lord Colambre will not say a word till you
come; but I know, by his countenance, that he has good
and extraordinary news."
They passed rapidly along the passage to Lady Clonbrony's room.
"Ohi, y  dear, dear Lady Berryl, come! or I shall die
with impatience," cried Lady Clonbrony, in a voice and
manner between laughing and crying. "There, now you
have congratulated, are very happy, and very glad, and
all that-now, for mercy's sake, sit down, Lord Clonbrony!
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for Heaven's sake, sit down-beside me here-or anywhere!
Now, Colambre, begin; and tell us all at once! "
But as nothing is so tedious as a twice-told tale, Lord
Colambre's narrative need not here be repeated. He began
with Count O'Halloran's visit, immediately after Lady
Clonbrony had left London; and went through the history
of the discovery that Captain Reynolds was the husband
of Miss St. Omar, and the father of Grace; the dying
acknowledgment of his marriage; the packet delivered by
Count O'Halloran to the careless ambassador-how recovered, by the assistance of his executor, Sir James
Brooke; the travels from Wrestham to Toddrington, and
thence to Red Lion Square; the interview with old Reynolds, and its final result; all was related as succinctly as
the impatient curiosity of Lord Colambre's auditors could
desire.
"Oh, wonder upon wonder! and joy upon joy!" cried
Lady Clonbrony. "So my darling Grace is as legitimate
as I am, and an heiress after all. Where is she? where is
she? In your room, Lady Berryl?-Oh, Colambre! why
wouldn't you let her be by?-Lady Berryl, do you know,
he would not let me send for her, though she was the person of all others most concerned! "
"For that very reason, ma'am; and that Lord Colambre
was quite right, I am sure you must be sensible, when you
recollect, that Grace has no idea that she is not the daughter
of Mr. Nugent; she has no suspicion that the breath of
blame ever lighted upon her mother. This part of the
story cannot be announced to her with too much caution;
and, indeed, her mind has been so much harassed and agitated, and she is at present so far from strong, that great
delicacy-  "
"True! very true, Lady Berryl," interrupted Lady
Clonbrony; "and I'll be as delicate as you please about it
afterwards; but, in the first and foremost place, I must tell
her the best part of the story - that she's an heiress,
madam, never killed anybody!"  So, darting through all
opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her way into the room
where Grace was lying-"Yes, get up! get up! my own
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Grace, and be surprised - well you may!- you are an
heiress, after all."
"Am I, my dear aunt? " said Grace.
"True, as I'm Lady Clonbrony-and a very great heiress
-and no more Colambre's cousin than Lady Berryl here.
So now begin and love him as fast as you please-I give
my consent-and here he is."
Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared
at the door.
"Oh, mother! what have you done? "
"What have I done? " cried Lady Clonbrony, following
her son's eyes:-"Lord bless me!-Grace fainted deadLady Berryl? Oh, what have I done? My dear Lady
Berryl, what shall we do? "
"There! her colour's coming again," said Lord Clonbrony; "come away, my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the
present, and so will I-though I long to talk to the darling
girl myself; but she is not equal to it yet."
When Grace came to herself, she first saw Lady Berryl
leaning over her, and, raising herself a little, she said"What has happened?-I don't know yet-I don't know
whether I am happy or not."
Then seeing Lord Colambre, she sat quite upright.
"You received my letter, cousin, I hope?-Do you go
to Ireland with my aunt?"
"Yes; and with you, I hope, my beloved friend," said
Colambre; "you once assured me that I had such a share
of your esteem and affection, that the idea of my accompanying you to Ireland was not disagreeable to you; you
flattered me that I formed part of your agreeable associations with home."
"Yes-sit down by me, won't you, my dear Lady
Berryl-but then I considered you as my cousin, Lord
Colambre, and I thought you felt the same towards me;
but now-"
"But now, my charming Grace," said Lord Colambre,
kneeling beside her, and taking her hand, "no invincible
obstacle opposes my passion-no invincible obstacle, did
I say? let me hope that I may say no obstacle, but what
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depends on the change in the nature of your sentiments.
You heard my mother's consent; you saw her joy."
"I scarcely knew what I heard or saw," said Grace,
blushing deeply, "or what I now see and hear; but of this
I feel secure, before I comprehend the mystery, before you
explain to me the causes of your-change of conduct, that
you have never been actuated by caprice, but governed by
wise and honourable motives. As to my going to Ireland,
or remaining with Lady Berryl, she has heard all the circumstances-she is my friend and yours-a better friend
cannot be; to her I appeal-she will decide for me what I
ought to do; she promised to take me from hence instantly,
if I ought to go."
"I did; and I would do so without hesitation, if any
duty or any prudence required it. But, after having heard
all the circumstances, I can only tell you that I willingly
resign the pleasure of your company."
"But tell her, my dear Lady Berryl," said Lord Colambre, "excellent friend as you are-explain to her you
can, better than any of us, all that is to be known; let her
know my whole conduct, and then let her decide for herself, and I shall submit to her decision. It is difficult, my
dear Grace, to restrain the expression of love, of passion,
such as I feel; but I have some power over myself-you
know it-and this I can promise you, that your affections
shall be free as air-that no wishes of friends, no interference, nothing but your own unbiassed choice will I allow, if
my life depended upon it, to operate in my favour. Be assured, my dearest Grace," added he, smiling as he retired,
"you shall have time to know whether you are happy or
not."
The moment he had left the room, she threw herself
into the arms of her friend, and her heart, oppressed with
various feelings, was relieved by tears-a species of relief
to which she was not habituated.
"I am happy," said she; "but what was the invincible
obstacle?-what was the meaning of my aunt's words?and what was the cause of her joy? Explain all this to
me, my dear friend; for I am still as if I were in a dream."
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N;/


" But now, my charming Grace," said Lord Colambre,
kneeling beside her.'


J








THE ABSENTEE


With all the delicacy which Lady Clonbrony deemed
superfluous Lady Berryl explained. Nothing could surpass the astonishment of Grace, on first learning that Mr.
Nugent was not her father. When she was told of the
stigma that had been cast on her birth; the suspicions,
the disgrace, to which her mother had been subjected for
so many years-that mother, whom she had so loved and
respected; who had, with such care, instilled into the mind
of her daughter the principles of virtue and religion; that
mother whom Grace had always seen the example of every
virtue she taught; on whom her daughter never suspected
that the touch of blame, the breath of scandal, could rest
-Grace could express her sensations only by repeating, in
tones of astonishment, pathos, indignation-" My mother!
-my mother!-my mother! "
For some time she was incapable of attending to any
other idea, or of feeling any other sensations. When her
mind was able to admit the thought, her friend soothed
her, by recalling the expressions of Lord Colambre's love
-the struggle by which he had been agitated, when he
fancied a union with her opposed by an invincible
obstacle.
Grace sighed, and acknowledged that, in prudence, it
ought to have been an invincible obstacle-she admired the
firmness of his decision, the honour with which he had
acted towards her. One moment she exclaimed, "Then,
if I had been the daughter of a mother who had conducted
herself ill, he never would have trusted me! "
The next moment she recollected, with pleasure, the joy
she had just seen in his eyes-the affection, the passion,
that spoke in every word and look; then dwelt upon the
sober certainty, that all obstacles were removed.
"And no duty opposes my loving him! And my aunt
wishes it! my kind aunt! And I may think of him.-You,
my best friend, would not assure me of this if you were
not certain of the truth.-Oh, how can I thank you for all
your kindness, and for that best of all kindness, sympathy.
You see, your calmness, your strength of mind supports
and tranquillises me. I would rather have heard all I have
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just learnt from you than from any other person living. I
could not have borne it from any one else. No one else
knows my mind so perfectly-yet my aunt is very good,and my dear uncle! should not I go to him?-But he is
not my uncle, she is not my aunt. I cannot bring myself
to think that they are not my relations, and that I am nothing to them."
"You may be everything to them, my dear Grace," said
Lady Berryl; "whenever you please, you may be their
daughter."
Grace blushed, and smiled, and sighed, and was consoled. But then she recollected her new relation Mr.
Reynolds, her grandfather, whom she had never seen, who
had for years disowned her-treated her mother with injustice. She could scarcely think of him with complaisancy;
yet, when his age, his sufferings, his desolate state, were
represented, she pitied him; and, faithful to her strong
sense of duty, would have gone instantly to offer him
every assistance and attention in her power. Lady Berryl
assured her that Mr. Reynolds had positively forbidden
her going to him; and that he had assured Lord Colambre
he would not see her if she went to him. After such rapid
and varied emotions, poor Grace desired repose, and her
friend took care that it should be secured to her for the remainder of the day.
In the meantime, Lord Clonbrony had kindly and judiciously employed his lady in a discussion about certain
velvet furniture, which Grace had painted for the drawingroom at Clonbrony Castle.
In Lady Clonbrony's mind, as in some bad paintings,
there was no keeping; all objects, great and small, were
upon the same level.
The moment her son entered the room, her ladyship exclaimed"Everything pleasant at once! Here's your father tells
me, Grace's velvet furniture's all packed; really, Soho's
the best man in the world of his kind, and the cleverestand so, after all, my dear Colambre, as I,.ways hoped
and prophesied, at last you will marry an heiress."
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"And Terry," said Lord Clonbrony, "will win his wager
from Mordicai."
"Terry!" repeated   Lady Clonbrony, "that odious
Terry!-I hope, my lord, that he is not to be one of my
comforts in Ireland."
"No, my dear mother; he is much better provided for
than we could have expected. One of my father's first
objects was to prevent him from being any encumbrance
to you. We consulted him as to the means of making him
happy; and the knight acknowledged that he had long
been casting a sheep's eye at a little snug place, that will
soon be open, in his native country-the chair of assistant
barrister at the sessions. 'Assistant barrister!' said my
father; 'but, my dear Terry, you have all your life been
evading the laws, and very frequently breaking the peace;
do you think this has qualified you peculiarly for being a
guardian of the laws?' Sir Terence replied, 'Yes, sure;
set a thief to catch a thief is no bad maxim. And did not
Mr. Colquhoun, the Scotchman, get himself made a great
justice, by his making all the world as wise as himself,
about thieves of all sorts, by land and by water, and in the
air too, where he detected the mud-larks?-And is not
Barrington chief-justice of Botany Bay?'
"My father now began to be seriously alarmed, lest Sir
Terence should insist upon his using his interest to make
him an assistant barrister. He was not aware that five
years' practice at the bar was a necessary accomplishment
for this office; when, fortunately for all parties, my good
friend, Count O'Halloran, helped us out of the difficulty,
by starting an idea full of practical justice. A literary
friend of the count's had been for some time promised a
lucrative situation under Government; but, unfortunately,
he was a man of so much merit and ability, that they could
not find employment for him at home, and they gave him
a commission, I should rather say a contract, abroad, for
supplying the army with Hungarian horses.   Now the
gentleman had not the slightest skill in horse-flesh; and,
as Sir Tei-.. ce is a complete jockey, the count observed
that he would be the best possible deputy for his literary
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friend. We warranted him to be a thoroughgoing friend;
and I do think the coalition will be well for both parties.
The count has settled it all, and I left Sir Terence comfortably provided for, out of your way, my dear mother,
and as happy as he could be, when parting from my
father."
Lord Colambre was assiduous in engaging his mother's
attention upon any subject which could for the present
draw her thoughts away from her young friend; but, at
every pause in the conversation, her ladyship repeated,
"So Grace is an heiress, after all-so, after all, they know
they are not cousins! Well! I prefer Grace, a thousand
times over, to any other heiress in England. No obstacle,
no objection. They have my consent. I always prophesied Colambre would marry an heiress; but why not marry
directly?"
Her ardour and impatience to hurry things forward
seemed now likely to retard the accomplishment of her
own wishes; and Lord Clonbrony, who understood rather
more of the passion of love than his lady ever had felt or
understood, saw the agony into which she threw her son,
and felt for his darling Grace. With a degree of delicacy
and address of which few would have supposed Lord Clonbrony capable, his lordship co-operated with his son in endeavours to keep Lady Clonbrony quiet, and to suppress
the hourly thanksgivings of Grace's turning out an heiress.
On one point, however, she vowed she would not be overruled-she would have a splendid wedding at Clonbrony
Castle, such as should become an heir and heiress; and the
wedding, she hoped, would be immediately on their return
to Ireland; she should announce the thing to her friends
directly on her arrival at Clonbrony Castle.
"My dear," said Lord Clonbrony, "we must wait, in
the first place, the pleasure of old Mr. Reynolds's fit of
the gout."
"Why, that's true, because of his will," said her ladyship; "but a will's soon made, is not it? That can't be
much delay."
"And then there must be settlements," said Lord Clon280




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brony; "they take time. Lovers, like all the rest of mankind, must submit to the law's delay. In the meantime,
my dear, as these Buxton baths agree with you so well,
and as Grace does not seem to be over and above strong
for travelling a long journey, and as there are many curious
and beautiful scenes of nature here in Derbyshire-Matlock, and the wonders of the Peak, and so on-which the
young people would be glad to see together, and may not
have another opportunity soon-why not rest ourselves a
little? For another reason, too," continued his lordship,
bringing together as many arguments as he could-for he
had often found, that though Lady Clonbrony was a match
for any single argument, her understanding could be easily
overpowered by a number, of whatever sort-" besides, my
dear, here's Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl come to Buxton
on purpose to meet us; and we owe them some compliment, and something more than compliment, I think; so I
don't see why we should be in a hurry to leave them, or
quit Buxton-a few weeks sooner or later can't signifyand Clonbrony Castle will be getting all the while into better order for us. Burke is gone down there; and if we
stay here quietly, there will be time for the velvet furniture
to get there before us, and to be unpacked, and up in the
drawing-room."
"That's true, my lord," said Lady Clonbrony; "and
there is a great deal of reason in all you say-so I second
that motion, as Colambre, I see, subscribes to it."
They stayed some time in Derbyshire, and every day
Lord Clonbrony proposed some pleasant excursion, and
contrived that the young people should be left to themselves, as Mrs. Broadhurst used so strenuously to advise;
the recollection of whose authoritative maxims fortunately
still operated upon Lady Clonbrony, to the great ease and
advantage of the lovers.
Happy as a lover, a friend, a son happy in the consciousness of having restored a father to respectability, and
persuaded a mother to quit the feverish joys of fashion for
the pleasures of domestic life; happy in the hope of winning the whole heart of the woman he loved, and whose
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esteem, he knew, he possessed and deserved; happy in developing every day, every hour, fresh charm in his destined
bride-we leave our hero, returning to his native country.
And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that
he will support through life the promise of his early character; that his patriotic views will extend with his power
to carry wishes into action; that his attachment to his
warm-hearted countrymen will still increase upon further
acquaintance; and that he will long diffuse happiness
through the wide circle, which is peculiarly subject to the
influence and example of a great resident Irish proprietor.
LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT MR.
MORDICAI'S, COACHMAKER, LONDON.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
Yours of the 16th, inclosing the five pound note for my
father, came safe to hand Monday last; and with his thanks
and blessing to you, he commends it to you herewith inclosed
back again, on account of his being in no immediate necessity,
nor likelihood to want in future, as you shall hear forthwith;
but wants you over with all speed, and the note will answer for
travelling charges; for we can't enjoy the luck it has pleased
God to give us without yees: put the rest in your pocket, and
read it when you've time.
Old Nick's gone, and St. Dennis along with him, to the place
he come from-praise be to God! The ould lord has found him
out in his tricks; and I helped him to that, through the young
lord that I driv, as I informed you in my last, when he was a
Welchman, which was the best turn ever I did, though I did not
know it no more than Adam that time. So ould Nick's turned
out of the agency clean and clear; and the day after it was
known, there was surprising great joy through the whole country; not surprising either, but just what you might, knowing
him, rasonably expect. He (that is, old Nick and St. Dennis)
would have been burnt that night-I mane, in effigy, through the
town of Clonbrony, but that the new man, Mr. Burke, come
down that day too soon to stop it, and said, " it was not becoming to trample on the fallen," or something that way, that put
an end to it; and though it was a great disappointment to many,
and to me in particular, I could not but like the jantleman the
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better for it anyhow. They say, he is a very good jantleman,
and as unlike old Nick or the saint as can be; and takes no
duty fowl, nor glove, nor sealing-money; nor asks duty work
nor duty turf. Well, when I was disappointed of the effigy, I
comforted myself by making a bonfire of old Nick's big rick of
duty turf, which, by great luck, was out in the road, away from
all dwelling-house, or thatch, or yards, to take fire; so no danger
in life or objection. And such another blaze! I wished you 'd
seed it-and all the men, women, and children in the town and
country, far and near, gathered round it, shouting and dancing
like mad!-and it was light as day quite across the bog, as far
as Bartley Finnigan's house. And I heard after, they seen it
from all parts of the three counties, and they thought it was St.
John's Eve in a mistake-or couldn't make out what it was;
but all took it in good part, for a good sign, and were in great
joy. As for St. Dennis and ould Nick, an attorney had his foot
upon 'em, with an habere a latitat, and three executions hanging over 'em; and there's the end of rogues! and a great example in the country. And-no more about it; for I can't be
wasting more ink upon them that don't desarve it at my hands,
when I want it for them that do, you shall see. So some weeks
past, and there was great cleaning at Clonbrony Castle, and in
the town of Clonbrony; and the new agent's smart and clever;
and he had the glaziers, and the painters, and the slaters up and
down in the town wherever wanted; and you wouldn't know it
again. Thinks I, this is no bad sign! Now, cock up your ears,
Pat! for the great news is coming, and the good. The master's
come home-long life to him!-and family come home yesterday, all entirely! The ould lord and the young lord (ay, there's
the man, Paddy!), and my lady, and Miss Nugent. And I driv
Miss Nugent's maid, that maid that was, and another; so I had
the luck to be in it along uwid 'em, and see all, from first to last.
And first, I must tell you, my young Lord Colambre remembered
and noticed me the minute he lit at our inn, and condescended
to beckon at me out of the yard to him, and axed me-" Friend
Larry," says he, " did you keep your promise? "-" My oath
again' the whisky, is it? " says I. " My Lord, I surely did,"
said I; which was true, as all the country knows I never tasted
a drop since. " And I'm proud to see your honour, my lord,
as good as your word too, and back again among us." So then
there was a call for the horses; and no more at that time passed
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betwix' my young lord and me, but that he pointed me out to
the ould one, as I went off. I noticed and thanked him for it in
my heart, though I did not know all the good was to come of it.
Well, no more of myself, for the present.
Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to the great gate of
the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see;
with the sun shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in
the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about,
and kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were
singing, and I stopped whistling, that they might hear them; but
sorrow bit could they hear when they got to the park gate, for
there was such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see -
and they had the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew
'em home. with blessings, through the park. And, God bless
'em! when they got out, they didn't go shut themselves up in
the great drawing-room, but went straight out to the tirrass, to
satisfy the eyes and hearts that followed them. My lady laning
on my young lord, and Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest angel that ever you set eyes on, with the finest complexion and sweetest of smiles, laning upon the ould lord's arm,
who had his hat off, bowing to all, and noticing the old tenants
as he passed by name. Oh, there was great gladness and tears
in the midst; for joy I could scarce keep from myself.
After a turn or two upon the tirrass, my Lord Colambre quit
his mother's arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the
slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some
one.
" Is it the widow O'Neill, my lord? " says I; " she's yonder,
with the spectacles on her nose, betwixt her son and daughter,
as usual."
Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the
tree would stir; and then he gave tree beckons with his own
finger, and they all tree came fast enough to the bottom of the
slope forenent my lord; and he went down and helped the widow
up (Oh, he's the true jantleman), and brought 'em all tree upon
the tirrass, to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close after,
that I might hear, which wasn't manners, but I couldn't help it.
So what he said I don't well know, for I could not get near
enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take
the widow O'Neill by the hand, and then my Lord Colambre
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'troduced Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the word namesake, and something about a check curtains; but, whatever it
was, they was all greatly pleased; then my Lord Colambre
turned and looked for Brian, who had fell back, and took him
with some commendation to my lord his father. And my lord
the master said, which I didn't know till after, that they should
have their house and farm at the ould rent; and at the surprise,
the widow dropped down dead; and there was a cry as for ten
berrings. " Be qui'te," says I, " she's only kilt for joy "; and
I went and lift her up, for her son had no more strength that
minute than the child new born; and Grace trembled like a leaf,
as white as the sheet, but not long, for the mother came to, and
was as well as ever when I brought some water, which Miss
Nugent handed to her with her own hand.
" That was always pretty and good," said the widow, laying
her hand upon Miss Nugent, " and kind and good to me and
mine."
That minute there was music from below. The blind harper,
O'Neill, with his harp, that struck up " Gracey Nugent."
And that finished, and my Lord Colambre smiling, with the
tears standing in his eyes too, and the ould lord quite wiping
his, I ran to the tirrass brink to bid O'Neill play it again; but
as I run, I thought I heard a voice call Larry.
" Who calls Larry? " says I.
" My Lord Colambre calls you, Larry," says all at once; and
four takes me by the shoulders and spins me round. " There's
my young lord calling you, Larry-run for your life."
So I run back for my life, and walked respectful, with my hat
in my hand, when I got near.
" Put on your hat, my father desires it," says my Lord Colambre. The ould lord made a sign to that purpose, but was
too full to speak. "Where's your father?" continues my
young lord.--" He's very ould, my lord," says I. " I didn't
ax you how ould he was," says he; "but where is he? ""." He's behind the crowd below, on account of his infirmities;
he couldn't walk so fast as the rest, my lord," says I; " but his
heart is with you, if not his body." "I must have his body too,
so bring him bodily before us; and this shall be your warrant
for so doing," said my lord, joking; for he knows the natur of
us, Paddy, and how we love a joke in our hearts, as well as if
he had lived all his life in Ireland; and by the same token will,
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for that rason, do what he pleases with us, and more maybe than
a man twice as good, that never would smile on us.
But I'm telling you of my father. " I've a warrant for you,
father," says I; " and must have you bodily before the justice,
and my lord chief-justice." So he changed colour a bit at first;
but he saw me smile. "And I've done no sin," said he; "and,
W-...,  If youm ay ead  mI  n.......1, u-vu  yas-you led  me al1 my life."
And up the slope he went with me as light as fifteen; and,
when we got up, my Lord Clonbrony said, "I am sorry an old
tenant, and a good old tenant, as I hear you were, should have
been turned out of your farm."
" Don't fret, it's no great matter, my lord," said my father.
"I shall be soon out of the way; but if you would be so kind to
speak a word for my boy here, and that I could afford, while
the life is in me, bring my other boy back out of banishment-"
" Then," says my Lord Clonbrony, "'I'll give you and your
sons three lives, or thirty-one years, from this day, of your
former farm. Return to it when you please."  " And," added
my Lord Colambre, " the flaggers, I hope, will be soon
banished."  Oh, how could I thank him-not a word could I
proffer-but I know I clasped my two hands, and prayed for
him inwardly. And my father was dropping down on his knees,
but the master would not let him; and obsarved, that posture
should only be for his God. And, sure enough, in that pos.
ture, when he was out of sight, we did pray for him that night,
and will all our days.
But, before we quit his presence, he called me back, and bid
me write to my brother, and bring you back, if you've no objections, to your own country.
So come, my dear Pat, and make no delay, for joy's not joy
complate till you're in it-my father sends his blessing, and
Peggy her love. The family entirely is to settle for good in
Ireland, and there was in the castle yard last night a bonfire
made by my lord's orders of the old yellow damask furniture, to
plase my lady, my lord says. And the drawing-room, the butler
was telling me, is new hung; and the chairs with velvet as white
as snow, and shaded over with natural flowers, by Miss Nugent.
Oh! how I hope what I guess will come true, and I've rason to
believe it will, for I dreamt in my bed last night it did. But
keep yourself to yourself-that Miss Nugent (who is no more
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Miss Nugent, they say, but Miss Reynolds, and has a new-found
grandfather, and is a big heiress, which she did not want in my
eyes, nor in my young lord's), I've a notion will be sometime,
and maybe sooner than is expected, my Lady Viscountess Colambre-so haste to the wedding. And there's another thing:
they say the rich ould grandfather's coming over;-and anotherthing, Pat, you would not be out of the fashion-and you see
it's growing the fashion not to be an Absentee.-Your loving
brother,                               LARRY BRADY.
THE END,


287




























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