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-The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Kellys and the O'Kellys, by Anthony
-Trollope
-
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
-almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
-re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
-with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
-
-
-
-
-
-Title: The Kellys and the O'Kellys
-
-Author: Anthony Trollope
-
-Release Date: January, 2004  [EBook #4917]
-[This file was first posted on March 27, 2002]
-[Most recently updated June 28, 2004]
-
-Edition: 11
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: US-ASCII
-
-
-***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KELLYS AND THE O'KELLYS***
-
-
-E-text prepared by Andrew Turek and revised and annotated by Joseph E.
-Loewenstein, M.D.
-
-
-
-THE KELLYS AND THE O'KELLYS
-
-by
-
-ANTHONY TROLLOPE
-
-
-
-
-
-Contents
-
-      I.  The Trial
-     II.  The Two Heiresses
-    III.  Morrison's Hotel
-     IV.  The Dunmore Inn
-      V.  A Loving Brother
-     VI.  The Escape
-    VII.  Mr Barry Lynch Makes a Morning Call
-   VIII.  Mr Martin Kelly Returns to Dunmore
-     IX.  Mr Daly, the Attorney
-      X.  Dot Blake's Advice
-     XI.  The Earl of Cashel
-    XII.  Fanny Wyndham
-   XIII.  Father and Son
-    XIV.  The Countess
-     XV.  Handicap Lodge
-    XVI.  Brien Boru
-   XVII.  Martin Kelly's Courtship
-  XVIII.  An Attorney's Office in Connaught
-    XIX.  Mr Daly Visits the Dunmore Inn
-     XX.  Very Liberal
-    XXI.  Lord Ballindine at Home
-   XXII.  The Hunt
-  XXIII.  Dr Colligan
-   XXIV.  Anty Lynch's Bed-Side; Scene the First
-    XXV.  Anty Lynch's Bed-Side; Scene the Second
-   XXVI.  Love's Ambassador
-  XXVII.  Mr Lynch's Last Resource
- XXVIII.  Fanny Wyndham Rebels
-   XXIX.  The Countess of Cashell in Trouble
-    XXX.  Lord Kilcullen Obeys His Father
-   XXXI.  The Two Friends
-  XXXII.  How Lord Kilcullen Fares in His Wooing
- XXXIII.  Lord Kilcullen Makes Another Visit to the Book-Room
-  XXXIV.  The Doctor Makes a Clean Breast of It
-   XXXV.  Mr Lynch Bids Farewell to Dunmore
-  XXXVI.  Mr Armstrong Visits Grey Abbey on a Delicate Mission
- XXXVII.  Veni; Vidi; Vici
-XXXVIII.  Wait Till I Tell You
-  XXXIX.  It Never Rains but It Pours
-     XL.  Conclusion
-
-
-
-
-
-I. THE TRIAL
-
-
-During the first two months of the year 1844, the greatest possible
-excitement existed in Dublin respecting the State Trials, in which
-Mr O'Connell, [1] his son, the Editors of three different repeal
-newspapers, Tom Steele, the Rev. Mr Tierney--a priest who had taken
-a somewhat prominent part in the Repeal Movement--and Mr Ray, the
-Secretary to the Repeal Association, were indicted for conspiracy.
-Those who only read of the proceedings in papers, which gave them as
-a mere portion of the news of the day, or learned what was going on
-in Dublin by chance conversation, can have no idea of the absorbing
-interest which the whole affair created in Ireland, but more especially
-in the metropolis. Every one felt strongly, on one side or on the
-other. Every one had brought the matter home to his own bosom, and
-looked to the result of the trial with individual interest and
-suspense.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 1: The historical events described here form a backdrop
-                  to the novel. Daniel O'Connell (1775-1847) came from
-                  a wealthy Irish Catholic family. He was educated in
-                  the law, which he practiced most successfully, and
-                  developed a passion for religious and political
-                  liberty. In 1823, together with Lalor Sheil and
-                  Thomas Wyse, he organized the Catholic Association,
-                  whose major goal was Catholic emancipation. This was
-                  achieved by act of parliament the following year.
-                  O'Connell served in parliament in the 1830's and was
-                  active in the passage of bills emancipating the Jews
-                  and outlawing slavery. In 1840 he formed the Repeal
-                  Association, whose goal was repeal of the 1800 Act
-                  of Union which joined Ireland to Great Britain. In
-                  1842, after serving a year as Lord Mayor of Dublin,
-                  O'Connell challenged the British government by
-                  announcing that he intended to achieve repeal within
-                  a year. Though he openly opposed violence, Prime
-                  Minister Peel's government considered him a threat
-                  and arrested O'Connell and his associates in 1843
-                  on trumped-up charges of conspiracy, sedition, and
-                  unlawfule assembly. They were tried in 1844, and all
-                  but one were convicted, although the conviction was
-                  later overturned in the House of Lords. O'Connell did
-                  serve some time in jail and was considered a martyr
-                  to the cause of Irish independence.]
-
-Even at this short interval Irishmen can now see how completely they
-put judgment aside, and allowed feeling and passion to predominate in
-the matter. Many of the hottest protestants, of the staunchest foes
-to O'Connell, now believe that his absolute imprisonment was not to
-be desired, and that whether he were acquitted or convicted, the
-Government would have sufficiently shown, by instituting his trial, its
-determination to put down proceedings of which they did not approve. On
-the other hand, that class of men who then styled themselves Repealers
-are now aware that the continued imprisonment of their leader--the
-persecution, as they believed it to be, of "the Liberator" [2]--would
-have been the one thing most certain to have sustained his influence,
-and to have given fresh force to their agitation. Nothing ever so
-strengthened the love of the Irish for, and the obedience of the Irish
-to O'Connell, as his imprisonment; nothing ever so weakened his power
-over them as his unexpected enfranchisement [3]. The country shouted
-for joy when he was set free, and expended all its enthusiasm in the
-effort.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 2: The Irish often referred to Daniel O'Connell as
-                  "the liberator."]
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 3: enfranchisement--being set free. This is a political
-                  observation by Trollope.]
-
-At the time, however, to which I am now referring, each party felt the
-most intense interest in the struggle, and the most eager desire for
-success. Every Repealer, and every Anti-Repealer in Dublin felt that
-it was a contest, in which he himself was, to a certain extent,
-individually engaged. All the tactics of the opposed armies, down to
-the minutest legal details, were eagerly and passionately canvassed in
-every circle. Ladies, who had before probably never heard of "panels"
-in forensic phraseology, now spoke enthusiastically on the subject;
-and those on one side expressed themselves indignant at the fraudulent
-omission of certain names from the lists of jurors; while those on the
-other were capable of proving the legality of choosing the jury from
-the names which were given, and stated most positively that the
-omissions were accidental.
-
-"The traversers" [4] were in everybody's mouth--a term heretofore
-confined to law courts, and lawyers' rooms. The Attorney-General,
-the Commander-in-Chief of the Government forces, was most virulently
-assailed; every legal step which he took was scrutinised and abused;
-every measure which he used was base enough of itself to hand down his
-name to everlasting infamy. Such were the tenets of the Repealers. And
-O'Connell and his counsel, their base artifices, falsehoods, delays,
-and unprofessional proceedings, were declared by the Saxon party to be
-equally abominable.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 4: traversers--Trollope repeatedly refers to the
-                  defendants as "traversers." The term probably comes
-                  from the legal term "to traverse," which is to deny
-                  the charges against one in a common law proceeding.
-                  Thus, the traversers would have been those who pled
-                  innocent.]
-
-The whole Irish bar seemed, for the time, to have laid aside the
-habitual _sang froid_ [5] and indifference of lawyers, and to have
-employed their hearts as well as their heads on behalf of the different
-parties by whom they were engaged. The very jurors themselves for a
-time became famous or infamous, according to the opinions of those
-by whom their position was discussed. Their names and additions were
-published and republished; they were declared to be men who would stand
-by their country and do their duty without fear or favour--so said the
-Protestants. By the Roman Catholics, they were looked on as perjurors
-determined to stick to the Government with blind indifference to their
-oaths. Their names are now, for the most part, forgotten, though so
-little time has elapsed since they appeared so frequently before the
-public.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 5: sang froid--(French) coolness in a trying situation,
-                  lack of excitability]
-
-Every day's proceedings gave rise to new hopes and fears. The evidence
-rested chiefly on the reports of certain short-hand writers, who had
-been employed to attend Repeal meetings, and their examinations and
-cross-examinations were read, re-read, and scanned with the minutest
-care. Then, the various and long speeches of the different counsel,
-who, day after day, continued to address the jury; the heat of one,
-the weary legal technicalities of another, the perspicuity of a third,
-and the splendid forensic eloquence of a fourth, were criticised,
-depreciated and admired. It seemed as though the chief lawyers of the
-day were standing an examination, and were candidates for some high
-honour, which each was striving to secure.
-
-The Dublin papers were full of the trial; no other subject, could, at
-the time, either interest or amuse. I doubt whether any affair of the
-kind was ever, to use the phrase of the trade, so well and perfectly
-reported. The speeches appeared word for word the same in the columns
-of newspapers of different politics. For four-fifths of the contents of
-the paper it would have been the same to you whether you were reading
-the Evening Mail, or the Freeman. Every word that was uttered in the
-Court was of importance to every one in Dublin; and half-an-hour's
-delay in ascertaining, to the minutest shade, what had taken place in
-Court during any period, was accounted a sad misfortune.
-
-The press round the Four Courts [6], every morning before the doors
-were open, was very great: and except by the favoured few who were able
-to obtain seats, it was only with extreme difficulty and perseverance,
-that an entrance into the body of the Court could be obtained.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 6: The Four Courts was a landmark courthouse in Dublin
-                  named for the four divisions of the Irish judicial
-                  system: Common Pleas, Chancery, Exchequer, and King's
-                  Bench.]
-
-It was on the eleventh morning of the proceedings, on the day on which
-the defence of the traversers was to be commenced, that two young men,
-who had been standing for a couple of hours in front of the doors of
-the Court, were still waiting there, with what patience was left to
-them, after having been pressed and jostled for so long a time. Richard
-Lalor Sheil, however, was to address the jury on behalf of Mr John
-O'Connell--and every one in Dublin knew that that was a treat not to
-be lost. The two young men, too, were violent Repealers. The elder of
-them was a three-year-old denizen of Dublin, who knew the names of
-the contributors to the "Nation", who had constantly listened to the
-indignation and enthusiasm of O'Connell, Smith O'Brien, and O'Neill
-Daunt, in their addresses from the rostrum of the Conciliation Hall
-[7]; who had drank much porter at Jude's, who had eaten many oysters
-at Burton Bindon's, who had seen and contributed to many rows in the
-Abbey Street Theatre; who, during his life in Dublin, had done many
-things which he ought not to have done, and had probably made as
-many omissions of things which it had behoved him to do. He had that
-knowledge of the persons of his fellow-citizens, which appears to be so
-much more general in Dublin than in any other large town; he could tell
-you the name and trade of every one he met in the streets, and was a
-judge of the character and talents of all whose employments partook, in
-any degree, of a public nature. His name was Kelly; and, as his calling
-was that of an attorney's clerk, his knowledge of character would be
-peculiarly valuable in the scene at which he and his companion were so
-anxious to be present.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 7: Conciliation Hall, Dublin, was built in 1843 as a
-                  meeting place for O'Connell's Repeal Association.]
-
-The younger of the two brothers, for such they were, was a somewhat
-different character. Though perhaps a more enthusiastic Repealer
-than his brother, he was not so well versed in the details of Repeal
-tactics, or in the strength and weakness of the Repeal ranks. He was a
-young farmer, of the better class, from the County Mayo, where he held
-three or four hundred wretchedly bad acres under Lord Ballindine, and
-one or two other small farms, under different landlords. He was a
-good-looking young fellow, about twenty-five years of age, with that
-mixture of cunning and frankness in his bright eye, which is so common
-among those of his class in Ireland, but more especially so in
-Connaught.
-
-The mother of these two young men kept an inn in the small town of
-Dunmore, and though from the appearance of the place, one would be
-led to suppose that there could not be in Dunmore much of that kind
-of traffic which innkeepers love, Mrs Kelly was accounted a warm,
-comfortable woman. Her husband had left her for a better world some
-ten years since, with six children; and the widow, instead of making
-continual use, as her chief support, of that common wail of being a
-poor, lone woman, had put her shoulders to the wheel, and had earned
-comfortably, by sheer industry, that which so many of her class, when
-similarly situated, are willing to owe to compassion.
-
-She held on the farm, which her husband rented from Lord Ballindine,
-till her eldest son was able to take it. He, however, was now a
-gauger [8] in the north of Ireland. Her second son was the attorney's
-clerk; and the farm had descended to Martin, the younger, whom we have
-left jostling and jostled at one of the great doors of the Four Courts,
-and whom we must still leave there for a short time, while a few more
-of the circumstances of his family are narrated.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 8: gauger--a British revenue officer often engaged in
-                  the collection of duties on distilled spirits.]
-
-Mrs Kelly had, after her husband's death, added a small grocer's
-establishment to her inn. People wondered where she had found the means
-of supplying her shop: some said that old Mick Kelly must have had
-money when he died, though it was odd how a man who drank so much could
-ever have kept a shilling by him. Others remarked how easy it was to
-get credit in these days, and expressed a hope that the wholesale
-dealer in Pill Lane might be none the worse. However this might be,
-the widow Kelly kept her station firmly and constantly behind her
-counter, wore her weeds and her warm, black, stuff dress decently and
-becomingly, and never asked anything of anybody.
-
-At the time of which we are writing, her two elder sons had left her,
-and gone forth to make their own way, and take the burden of the world
-on their own shoulders. Martin still lived with his mother, though his
-farm lay four miles distant, on the road to Ballindine, and in another
-county--for Dunmore is in County Galway, and the lands of Toneroe, as
-Martin's farm was called, were in the County Mayo. One of her three
-daughters had lately been married to a shop-keeper in Tuam, and rumour
-said that he had got L500 with her; and Pat Daly was not the man to
-have taken a wife for nothing. The other two girls, Meg and Jane, still
-remained under their mother's wing, and though it was to be presumed
-that they would soon fly abroad, with the same comfortable plumage
-which had enabled their sister to find so warm a nest, they were
-obliged, while sharing their mother's home, to share also her labours,
-and were not allowed to be too proud to cut off pennyworths of tobacco,
-and mix dandies of punch for such of their customers as still preferred
-the indulgence of their throats to the blessing of Father Mathew.
-
-Mrs. Kelly kept two ordinary in-door servants to assist in the work of
-the house; one, an antiquated female named Sally, who was more devoted
-to her tea-pot than ever was any bacchanalian to his glass. Were there
-four different teas in the inn in one evening, she would have drained
-the pot after each, though she burst in the effort. Sally was, in all,
-an honest woman, and certainly a religious one;--she never neglected
-her devotional duties, confessed with most scrupulous accuracy the
-various peccadillos of which she might consider herself guilty; and
-it was thought, with reason, by those who knew her best, that all the
-extra prayers she said,--and they were very many,--were in atonement
-for commissions of continual petty larceny with regard to sugar. On
-this subject did her old mistress quarrel with her, her young mistress
-ridicule her; of this sin did her fellow-servant accuse her; and,
-doubtless, for this sin did her Priest continually reprove her; but
-in vain. Though she would not own it, there was always sugar in
-her pocket, and though she declared that she usually drank her tea
-unsweetened, those who had come upon her unawares had seen her
-extracting the pinches of moist brown saccharine from the huge slit
-in her petticoat, and could not believe her.
-
-Kate, the other servant, was a red-legged lass, who washed the
-potatoes, fed the pigs, and ate her food nobody knew when or where.
-Kates, particularly Irish Kates, are pretty by prescription; but Mrs.
-Kelly's Kate had been excepted, and was certainly a most positive
-exception. Poor Kate was very ugly. Her hair had that appearance of
-having been dressed by the turkey-cock, which is sometimes presented by
-the heads of young women in her situation; her mouth extended nearly
-from ear to ear; her neck and throat, which were always nearly bare,
-presented no feminine charms to view; and her short coarse petticoat
-showed her red legs nearly to the knee; for, except on Sundays, she
-knew not the use of shoes and stockings. But though Kate was ungainly
-and ugly, she was useful, and grateful--very fond of the whole family,
-and particularly attached to the two young ladies, in whose behalf she
-doubtless performed many a service, acceptable enough to them, but of
-which, had she known of them, the widow would have been but little
-likely to approve.
-
-Such was Mrs. Kelly's household at the time that her son Martin left
-Connaught to pay a short visit to the metropolis, during the period of
-O'Connell's trial. But, although Martin was a staunch Repealer, and had
-gone as far as Galway, and Athlone, to be present at the Monster Repeal
-Meetings which had been held there, it was not political anxiety alone
-which led him to Dublin. His landlord; the young Lord Ballindine, was
-there; and, though Martin could not exactly be said to act as his
-lordship's agent--for Lord Ballindine had, unfortunately, a legal
-agent, with whose services his pecuniary embarrassments did not
-allow him to dispense--he was a kind of confidential tenant, and
-his attendance had been requested. Martin, moreover, had a somewhat
-important piece of business of his own in hand, which he expected would
-tend greatly to his own advantage; and, although he had fully made up
-his mind to carry it out if possible, he wanted, in conducting it, a
-little of his brother's legal advice, and, above all, his landlord's
-sanction.
-
-This business was nothing less than an intended elopement with an
-heiress belonging to a rank somewhat higher than that in which Martin
-Kelly might be supposed to look, with propriety, for his bride; but
-Martin was a handsome fellow, not much burdened with natural modesty,
-and he had, as he supposed, managed to engage the affections of
-Anastasia Lynch, a lady resident near Dunmore.
-
-All particulars respecting Martin's intended--the amount of her
-fortune--her birth and parentage--her age and attractions--shall,
-in due time, be made known; or rather, perhaps, be suffered to make
-themselves known. In the mean time we will return to the two brothers,
-who are still anxiously waiting to effect an entrance into the august
-presence of the Law.
-
-Martin had already told his brother of his matrimonial speculations,
-and had received certain hints from that learned youth as to the proper
-means of getting correct information as to the amount of the lady's
-wealth,--her power to dispose of it by her own deed,--and certain other
-particulars always interesting to gentlemen who seek money and love at
-the same time. John did not quite approve of the plan; there might have
-been a shade of envy at his brother's good fortune; there might be
-some doubt as to his brother's power of carrying the affair through
-successfully; but, though he had not encouraged him, he gave him the
-information he wanted, and was as willing to talk over the matter as
-Martin could desire.
-
-As they were standing in the crowd, their conversation ran partly on
-Repeal and O'Connell, and partly on matrimony and Anty Lynch, as the
-lady was usually called by those who knew her best.
-
-"Tear and 'ouns Misther Lord Chief Justice!" exclaimed Martin, "and are
-ye niver going to opin them big doors?"
-
-"And what'd be the good of his opening them yet," answered John, "when
-a bigger man than himself an't there? Dan and the other boys isn't in
-it yet, and sure all the twelve judges couldn't get on a peg without
-them."
-
-"Well, Dan, my darling!" said the other, "you're thought more of here
-this day than the lot of 'em, though the place in a manner belongs to
-them, and you're only a prisoner."
-
-"Faix and that's what he's not, Martin; no more than yourself, nor so
-likely, may-be. He's the traverser, as I told you before, and that's
-not being a prisoner. If he were a prisoner, how did he manage to tell
-us all what he did at the Hall yesterday?"
-
-"Av' he's not a prisoner, he's the next-door to it; it's not of his own
-free will and pleasure he'd come here to listen to all the lies them
-thundhering Saxon ruffians choose to say about him."
-
-"And why not? Why wouldn't he come here and vindicate himself? When you
-hear Sheil by and by, you'll see then whether they think themselves
-likely to be prisoners! No--no; they never will be, av' there's a ghost
-of a conscience left in one of them Protesthant raps, that they've
-picked so carefully out of all Dublin to make jurors of. They can't
-convict 'em! I heard Ford, the night before last, offer four to one
-that they didn't find the lot guilty; and he knows what he's about, and
-isn't the man to thrust a Protestant half as far as he'd see him."
-
-"Isn't Tom Steele a Protesthant himself, John?"
-
-"Well, I believe he is. So's Gray, and more of 'em too; but there's a
-difference between them and the downright murdhering Tory set. Poor Tom
-doesn't throuble the Church much; but you'll be all for Protesthants
-now, Martin, when you've your new brother-in-law. Barry used to be one
-of your raal out-and-outers!"
-
-"It's little, I'm thinking, I and Barry'll be having to do together,
-unless it be about the brads; and the law about them now, thank God,
-makes no differ for Roman and Protesthant. Anty's as good a Catholic
-as ever breathed, and so was her mother before her; and when she's Mrs
-Kelly, as I mane to make her, Master Barry may shell out the cash and
-go to heaven his own way for me."
-
-"It ain't the family then, you're fond of, Martin! And I wondher at
-that, considering how old Sim loved us all."
-
-"Niver mind Sim, John! he's dead and gone; and av' he niver did a good
-deed before, he did one when he didn't lave all his cash to that
-precious son of his, Barry Lynch."
-
-"You're prepared for squalls with Barry, I suppose?"
-
-"He'll have all the squalling on his own side, I'm thinking, John. I
-don't mane to squall, for one. I don't see why I need, with L400 a-year
-in my pocket, and a good wife to the fore."
-
-"The L400 a-year's good enough, av' you touch it, certainly," said the
-man of law, thinking of his own insufficient guinea a-week, "and you
-must look to have some throuble yet afore you do that. But as to the
-wife--why, the less said the better--eh, Martin?
-
-"Av' it's not asking too much, might I throuble you, sir, to set
-anywhere else but on my shouldher?" This was addressed to a very fat
-citizen, who was wheezing behind Martin, and who, to escape suffocation
-in the crowd, was endeavouring to raise himself on his neighbour's
-shoulders. "And why the less said the better?--I wish yourself may
-never have a worse."
-
-"I wish I mayn't, Martin, as far as the cash goes; and a man like me
-might look a long time in Dublin before he got a quarter of the money.
-But you must own Anty's no great beauty, and she's not over young,
-either."
-
-"Av' she's no beauty, she's not downright ugly, like many a girl that
-gets a good husband; and av' she's not over young, she's not over old.
-She's not so much older than myself, after all. It's only because her
-own people have always made nothing of her; that's what has made
-everybody else do the same."
-
-"Why, Martin, I know she's ten years older than Barry, and Barry's
-older than you!"
-
-"One year; and Anty's not full ten years older than him. Besides,
-what's ten years between man and wife?"
-
-"Not much, when it's on the right side. But it's the wrong side with
-you, Martin!"
-
-"Well, John, now, by virtue of your oath, as you chaps say, wouldn't
-you marry a woman twice her age, av' she'd half the money?--Begad you
-would, and leap at it!"
-
-"Perhaps I would. I'd a deal sooner have a woman eighty than forty.
-There'd be some chance then of having the money after the throuble was
-over! Anty's neither ould enough nor young enough."
-
-"She's not forty, any way; and won't be yet for five years and more;
-and, as I hope for glory, John--though I know you won't believe me--I
-wouldn't marry her av' she'd all Sim Lynch's ill-gotten property,
-instead of only half, av' I wasn't really fond of her, and av' I didn't
-think I'd make her a good husband."
-
-"You didn't tell mother what you're afther, did you?"
-
-"Sorrow a word! But she's so 'cute she partly guesses; and I think Meg
-let slip something. The girls and Anty are thick as thiefs since old
-Sim died; though they couldn't be at the house much since Barry came
-home, and Anty daren't for her life come down to the shop."
-
-"Did mother say anything about the schame?"
-
-"Faix, not much; but what she did say, didn't show she'd much mind for
-it. Since Sim Lynch tried to get Toneroe from her, when father died,
-she'd never a good word for any of them. Not but what she's always a
-civil look for Anty, when she sees her."
-
-"There's not much fear she'll look black on the wife, when you bring
-the money home with her. But where'll you live, Martin? The little shop
-at Dunmore'll be no place for Mrs Kelly, when there's a lady of the
-name with L400 a-year of her own."
-
-"'Deed then, John, and that's what I don't know. May-be I'll build up
-the ould house at Toneroe; some of the O'Kellys themselves lived there,
-years ago."
-
-"I believe they did; but it was years ago, and very many years ago,
-too, since they lived there. Why you'd have to pull it all down, before
-you began to build it up!"
-
-"May-be I'd build a new house, out and out. Av' I got three new lifes
-in the laise, I'd do that; and the lord wouldn't be refusing me, av' I
-asked him."
-
-"Bother the lord, Martin; why you'd be asking anything of any lord, and
-you with L400 a-year of your own? Give up Toneroe, and go and live at
-Dunmore House at once."
-
-"What! along with Barry--when I and Anty's married? The biggest house
-in county Galway wouldn't hould the three of us."
-
-"You don't think Barry Lynch'll stay at Dunmore afther you've married
-his sisther?"
-
-"And why not?"
-
-"Why not! Don't you know Barry thinks himself one of the raal gentry
-now? Any ways, he wishes others to think so. Why, he'd even himself
-to Lord Ballindine av' he could! Didn't old Sim send him to the same
-English school with the lord on purpose?--tho' little he got by it,
-by all accounts! And d'you think he'll remain in Dunmore, to be
-brother-in-law to the son of the woman that keeps the little grocer's
-shop in the village?--Not he! He'll soon be out of Dunmore when he
-hears what his sister's afther doing, and you'll have Dunmore House to
-yourselves then, av' you like it."
-
-"I'd sooner live at Toneroe, and that's the truth; and I'd not give
-up the farm av' she'd double the money! But, John, faith, here's the
-judges at last. Hark, to the boys screeching!"
-
-"They'd not screech that way for the judges, my boy. It's the
-traversers--that's Dan and the rest of 'em. They're coming into court.
-Thank God, they'll soon be at work now!"
-
-"And will they come through this way? Faith, av' they do, they'll have
-as hard work to get in, as they'll have to get out by and by."
-
-"They'll not come this way--there's another way in for them: tho' they
-are traversers now, they didn't dare but let them go in at the same
-door as the judges themselves."
-
-"Hurrah, Dan! More power to you! Three cheers for the traversers, and
-Repale for ever! Success to every mother's son of you, my darlings!
-You'll be free yet, in spite of John Jason Rigby and the rest of 'em!
-The prison isn't yet built that'd hould ye, nor won't be! Long life to
-you, Sheil--sure you're a Right Honourable Repaler now, in spite of
-Greenwich Hospital and the Board of Trade! More power, Gavan Duffy;
-you're the boy that'll settle 'em at last! Three cheers more for the
-Lord Mayor, God bless him! Well, yer reverence, Mr Tierney!--never
-mind, they could come to no good when they'd be parsecuting the likes
-of you! Bravo, Tom--Hurrah for Tom Steele!"
-
-Such, and such like, were the exclamations which greeted the
-traversers, and their _cortege_, as they drew up to the front of the
-Four Courts. Dan O'Connell was in the Lord Mayor's state carriage,
-accompanied by that high official; and came up to stand his trial for
-conspiracy and sedition, in just such a manner as he might be presumed
-to proceed to take the chair at some popular municipal assembly; and
-this was just the thing qualified to please those who were on his own
-side, and mortify the feelings of the party so bitterly opposed to him.
-There was a bravado in it, and an apparent contempt, not of the law so
-much as of the existing authorities of the law, which was well
-qualified to have this double effect.
-
-And now the outer doors of the Court were opened, and the crowd--at
-least as many as were able to effect an entrance--rushed in. Martin
-and John Kelly were among those nearest to the door, and, in reward of
-their long patience, got sufficiently into the body of the Court to be
-in a position to see, when standing on tiptoe, the noses of three of
-the four judges, and the wigs of four of the numerous counsel employed.
-The Court was so filled by those who had a place there by right, or
-influence enough to assume that they had so, that it was impossible
-to obtain a more favourable situation. But this of itself was a great
-deal--quite sufficient to justify Martin in detailing to his Connaught
-friends every particular of the whole trial. They would probably
-be able to hear everything; they could positively see three of the
-judges, and if those two big policemen, with high hats, could by any
-possibility be got to remove themselves, it was very probable that
-they would be able to see Sheil's back, when he stood up.
-
-John soon began to show off his forensic knowledge. He gave a near
-guess at the names of the four counsel whose heads were visible,
-merely from the different shades and shapes of their wigs. Then he
-particularised the inferior angels of that busy Elysium.
-
-"That's Ford--that's Gartlan--that's Peirce Mahony," he exclaimed, as
-the different attorneys for the traversers, furiously busy with their
-huge bags, fidgetted about rapidly, or stood up in their seats,
-telegraphing others in different parts of the Court.
-
-"There's old Kemmis," as they caught a glimpse of the Crown agent;
-"he's the boy that doctored the jury list. Fancy, a jury chosen out of
-all Dublin, and not one Catholic! As if that could be fair!" And then
-he named the different judges. "Look at that big-headed, pig-faced
-fellow on the right--that's Pennefather! He's the blackest sheep of the
-lot--and the head of them! He's a thoroughbred Tory, and as fit to be a
-judge as I am to be a general. That queer little fellow, with the long
-chin, he's Burton--he's a hundred if he's a day--he was fifty when he
-was called, seventy when they benched him, and I'm sure he's a judge
-thirty years! But he's the sharpest chap of the whole twelve, and no
-end of a boy afther the girls. If you only saw him walking in his
-robes--I'm sure he's not three feet high! That next, with the skinny
-neck, he's Crampton--he's one of Father Mathews lads, an out and out
-teetotaller, and he looks it; he's a desperate cross fellow, sometimes!
-The other one, you can't see, he's Perrin. There, he's leaning
-over--you can just catch the side of his face--he's Perrin. It's he'll
-acquit the traversers av' anything does--he's a fair fellow, is Perrin,
-and not a red-hot thorough-going Tory like the rest of 'em."
-
-Here John was obliged to give over the instruction of his brother,
-being enjoined so to do by one of the heavy-hatted policemen in his
-front, who enforced his commands for silence, with a backward shove of
-his wooden truncheon, which came with rather unnecessary violence
-against the pit of John's stomach.
-
-The fear of being turned out made him for the nonce refrain from that
-vengeance of abuse which his education as a Dublin Jackeen well
-qualified him to inflict. But he put down the man's face in his
-retentive memory, and made up his mind to pay him off.
-
-And now the business of the day commenced. After some official delays
-and arrangements Sheil arose, and began his speech in defence of John
-O'Connell. It would be out of place here to give either his words or
-his arguments; besides, they have probably before this been read by all
-who would care to read them. When he commenced, his voice appeared, to
-those who were not accustomed to hear him, weak, piping, and most unfit
-for a popular orator; but this effect was soon lost in the elegance of
-his language and the energy of his manner; and, before he had been ten
-minutes on his legs, the disagreeable tone was forgotten, though it was
-sounding in the eager ears of every one in the Court.
-
-His speech was certainly brilliant, effective, and eloquent; but it
-satisfied none that heard him, though it pleased all. It was neither
-a defence of the general conduct and politics of the party, such as
-O'Connell himself attempted in his own case, nor did it contain a chain
-of legal arguments to prove that John O'Connell, individually, had
-not been guilty of conspiracy, such as others of the counsel employed
-subsequently in favour of their own clients.
-
-Sheil's speech was one of those numerous anomalies with which this
-singular trial was crowded; and which, together, showed the great
-difficulty of coming to a legal decision on a political question, in
-a criminal court. Of this, the present day gave two specimens, which
-will not be forgotten; when a Privy Councillor, a member of a former
-government, whilst defending his client as a barrister, proposed in
-Court a new form of legislation for Ireland, equally distant from that
-adopted by Government, and that sought to be established by him whom he
-was defending; and when the traverser on his trial rejected the defence
-of his counsel, and declared aloud in Court, that he would not, by his
-silence, appear to agree in the suggestions then made.
-
-This spirit of turning the Court into a political debating arena
-extended to all present. In spite of the vast efforts made by them
-all, only one of the barristers employed has added much to his legal
-reputation by the occasion. Imputations were made, such as I presume
-were never before uttered by one lawyer against another in a court of
-law. An Attorney-General sent a challenge from his very seat of office;
-and though that challenge was read in Court, it was passed over by four
-judges with hardly a reprimand. If any seditious speech was ever made
-by O'Connell, that which he made in his defence was especially so, and
-he was, without check, allowed to use his position as a traverser at
-the bar, as a rostrum from which to fulminate more thoroughly and
-publicly than ever, those doctrines for uttering which he was then
-being tried; and, to crown it all, even the silent dignity of the
-bench was forgotten, and the lawyers pleading against the Crown were
-unhappily alluded to by the Chief Justice as the "gentlemen on the
-_other_ side."
-
-Martin and John patiently and enduringly remained standing the whole
-day, till four o'clock; and then the latter had to effect his escape,
-in order to keep an appointment which he had made to meet Lord
-Ballindine.
-
-As they walked along the quays they both discussed the proceedings of
-the day, and both expressed themselves positively certain of the result
-of the trial, and of the complete triumph of O'Connell and his party.
-To these pleasant certainties Martin added his conviction, that Repeal
-must soon follow so decided a victory, and that the hopes of Ireland
-would be realised before the close of 1844. John was neither so
-sanguine nor so enthusiastic; it was the battle, rather than the thing
-battled for, that was dear to him; the strife, rather than the result.
-He felt that it would be dull times in Dublin, when they should have
-no usurping Government to abuse, no Saxon Parliament to upbraid, no
-English laws to ridicule, and no Established Church to curse.
-
-The only thing which could reconcile him to immediate Repeal, would be
-the probability of having then to contend for the election of an Irish
-Sovereign, and the possible dear delight which might follow, of Ireland
-going to war with England, in a national and becoming manner.
-
-Discussing these important measures, they reached the Dublin brother's
-lodgings, and Martin turned in to wash his face and hands, and put on
-clean boots, before he presented himself to his landlord and patron,
-the young Lord Ballindine.
-
-
-
-
-II.  THE TWO HEIRESSES
-
-
-Francis John Mountmorris O'Kelly, Lord Viscount Ballindine, was
-twenty-four years of age when he came into possession of the Ballindine
-property, and succeeded to an Irish peerage as the third viscount; and
-he is now twenty-six, at this time of O'Connell's trial. The head of
-the family had for many years back been styled "The O'Kelly", and had
-enjoyed much more local influence under that denomination than their
-descendants had possessed, since they had obtained a more substantial
-though not a more respected title. The O'Kellys had possessed large
-tracts of not very good land, chiefly in County Roscommon, but partly
-in Mayo and Galway. Their property had extended from Dunmore nearly to
-Roscommon, and again on the other side to Castlerea and Ballyhaunis.
-But this had been in their palmy days, long, long ago. When the
-government, in consideration of past services, in the year 1800,
-converted "the O'Kelly" into Viscount Ballindine, the family property
-consisted of the greater portion of the land lying between the villages
-of Dunmore and Ballindine. Their old residence, which the peer still
-kept up, was called Kelly's Court, and is situated in that corner of
-County Roscommnon which runs up between Mayo and Galway.
-
-The first lord lived long enough to regret his change of title, and to
-lament the increased expenditure with which he had thought it necessary
-to accompany his more elevated rank. His son succeeded, and showed in
-his character much more of the new-fangled viscount than of the ancient
-O'Kelly. His whole long life was passed in hovering about the English
-Court. From the time of his father's death, he never once put his foot
-in Ireland. He had been appointed, at different times from his youth
-upwards, Page, Gentleman in Waiting, Usher of the Black Rod, Deputy
-Groom of the Stole, Chief Equerry to the Princess Royal, (which
-appointment only lasted till the princess was five years old), Lord
-Gold Stick, Keeper of the Royal Robes; till, at last, he had culminated
-for ten halcyon years in a Lord of the Bedchamber. In the latter
-portion of his life he had grown too old for this, and it was reported
-at Ballindine, Dunmore, and Kelly's Court,--with how much truth I don't
-know,--that, since her Majesty's accession, he had been joined with
-the spinster sister of a Scotch Marquis, and an antiquated English
-Countess, in the custody of the laces belonging to the Queen Dowager.
-
-This nobleman, publicly useful as his life had no doubt been, had done
-little for his own tenants, or his own property. On his father's death,
-he had succeeded to about three thousand a-year, and he left about one;
-and he would have spent or mortgaged this, had he not, on his marriage,
-put it beyond his own power to do so. It was not only by thriftless
-extravagance that he thus destroyed a property which, with care, and
-without extortion, would have doubled its value in the thirty-five
-years during which it was in his hands; but he had been afraid to come
-to Ireland, and had been duped by his agent. When he came to the title,
-Simeon Lynch had been recommended to him as a fit person to manage his
-property, and look after his interests; and Simeon had managed it well
-in that manner most conducive to the prosperity of the person he loved
-best in the world; and that was himself. When large tracts of land fell
-out of lease, Sim had represented that tenants could not be found--that
-the land was not worth cultivating--that the country was in a state
-which prevented the possibility of letting; and, ultimately put himself
-into possession, with a lease for ever, at a rent varying from half a
-crown to five shillings an acre.
-
-The courtier lord had one son, of whom he made a soldier, but who never
-rose to a higher rank than that of Captain. About a dozen years before
-the date of my story, the Honourable Captain O'Kelly, after numerous
-quarrels with the Right Honourable Lord of the Bedchamber, had, at
-last, come to some family settlement with him; and, having obtained
-the power of managing the property himself, came over to live at his
-paternal residence of Kelly's Court.
-
-A very sorry kind of Court he found it,--neglected, dirty, and out of
-repair. One of the first retainers whom he met was Jack Kelly, the
-family fool. Jack was not such a fool as those who, of yore, were
-valued appendages to noble English establishments. He resembled them in
-nothing but his occasional wit. He was a dirty, barefooted, unshorn,
-ragged ruffian, who ate potatoes in the kitchen of the Court, and had
-never done a day's work in his life. Such as he was, however, he was
-presented to Captain O'Kelly, as "his honour the masther's fool."
-
-"So, you're my fool, Jack, are ye?" said the Captain.
-
-"Faix, I war the lord's fool ance; but I'll no be anybody's fool but
-Sim Lynch's, now. I and the lord are both Sim's fools now. Not but I'm
-the first of the two, for I'd never be fool enough to give away all my
-land, av' my father'd been wise enough to lave me any."
-
-Captain O'Kelly soon found out the manner in which the agent had
-managed his father's affairs. Simeon Lynch was dismissed, and
-proceedings at common law were taken against him, to break such of the
-leases as were thought, by clever attorneys, to have the ghost of a
-flaw in them. Money was borrowed from a Dublin house, for the purpose
-of carrying on the suit, paying off debts, and making Kelly's Court
-habitable; and the estate was put into their hands. Simeon Lynch built
-himself a large staring house at Dunmore, defended his leases, set up
-for a country gentleman on his own account, and sent his only son,
-Barry, to Eton,--merely because young O'Kelly was also there, and he
-was determined to show, that he was as rich and ambitious as the lord's
-family, whom he had done so much to ruin.
-
-Kelly's Court was restored to such respectability as could ever belong
-to so ugly a place. It was a large red stone mansion, standing in
-a demesne of very poor ground, ungifted by nature with any beauty,
-and but little assisted by cultivation or improvement. A belt of
-bald-looking firs ran round the demesne inside the dilapidated wall;
-but this was hardly sufficient to relieve the barren aspect of the
-locality. Fine trees there were none, and the race of O'Kellys had
-never been great gardeners.
-
-Captain O'Kelly was a man of more practical sense, or of better
-education, than most of his family, and he did do a good deal to
-humanise the place. He planted, tilled, manured, and improved; he
-imported rose-trees and strawberry-plants, and civilised Kelly's Court
-a little. But his reign was not long. He died about five years after he
-had begun his career as a country gentleman, leaving a widow and two
-daughters in Ireland; a son at school at Eton; and an expensive
-lawsuit, with numerous ramifications, all unsettled.
-
-Francis, the son, went to Eton and Oxford, was presented at Court by
-his grandfather, and came hack to Ireland at twenty-two, to idle away
-his time till the old lord should die. Till this occurred, he could
-neither call himself the master of the place, nor touch the rents. In
-the meantime, the lawsuits were dropped, both parties having seriously
-injured their resources, without either of them obtaining any benefit.
-Barry Lynch was recalled from his English education, where he had not
-shown off to any great credit; and both he and his father were obliged
-to sit down prepared to make the best show they could on eight hundred
-pounds a-year, and to wage an underhand internecine war with the
-O'Kellys.
-
-Simeon and his son, however, did not live altogether alone. Anastasia
-Lynch was Barry's sister, and older than him by about ten years. Their
-mother had been a Roman Catholic, whereas Sim was a Protestant; and, in
-consequence, the daughter had been brought up in the mother's, and the
-son in the father's religion. When this mother died, Simeon, no doubt
-out of respect to the memory of the departed, tried hard to induce his
-daughter to prove her religious zeal, and enter a nunnery; but this,
-Anty, though in most things a docile creature, absolutely refused to
-do. Her father advised, implored, and threatened; but in vain; and the
-poor girl became a great thorn in the side of both father and son.
-She had neither beauty, talent, nor attraction, to get her a husband;
-and her father was determined not to encumber his already diminished
-property with such a fortune as would make her on that ground
-acceptable to any respectable suitor.
-
-Poor Anty led a miserable life, associating neither with superiors
-nor inferiors, and her own position was not sufficiently declared to
-enable her to have any equals. She was slighted by her father and the
-servants, and bullied by her brother; and was only just enabled, by
-humble, unpresuming disposition, to carry on her tedious life from year
-to year without grumbling.
-
-In the meantime, the _ci-devant_ [9] Black Rod, Gold Stick, Royal
-Equerry, and Lord of the Bedchamber, was called away from his robes and
-his finery, to give an account of the manner in which he had renounced
-the pomps and vanities of this wicked world; and Frank became Lord
-Ballindine, with, as I have before said, an honourable mother, two
-sisters, a large red house, and a thousand a-year. He was not at all
-a man after the pattern of his grandfather, but he appeared as little
-likely to redeem the old family acres. He seemed to be a reviving chip
-of the old block of the O'Kellys. During the two years he had been
-living at Kelly's Court as Frank O'Kelly, he had won the hearts of all
-the tenants--of all those who would have been tenants if the property
-had not been sold, and who still looked up to him as their "raal young
-masther"--and of the whole country round. The "thrue dhrop of the ould
-blood", was in his veins; and, whatever faults he might have, he wasn't
-likely to waste his time and his cash with furs, laces, and hangings.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 9: ci-devant--(French) former, previous]
-
-This was a great comfort to the neighbourhood, which had learned
-heartily to despise the name of Lord Ballindine; and Frank was
-encouraged in shooting, hunting, racing--in preparing to be a thorough
-Irish gentleman, and in determining to make good the prophecies of his
-friends, that he would be, at last, one more "raal O'Kelly to brighten
-the counthry."
-
-And if he could have continued to be Frank O'Kelly, or even "the
-O'Kelly", he would probably have done well enough, for he was fond of
-his mother and sisters, and he might have continued to hunt, shoot, and
-farm on his remaining property without further encroaching on it. But
-the title was sure to be his ruin. When he felt himself to be a lord,
-he could not be content with the simple life of a country gentleman;
-or, at any rate, without taking the lead in the country. So, as soon as
-the old man was buried, he bought a pack of harriers, and despatched
-a couple of race-horses to the skilful hands of old Jack Igoe, the
-Curragh trainer.
-
-Frank was a very handsome fellow, full six feet high, with black hair,
-and jet-black silky whiskers, meeting under his chin;--the men said he
-dyed them, and the women declared he did not. I am inclined, myself,
-to think he must have done so, they were so very black. He had an eye
-like a hawk, round, bright, and bold; a mouth and chin almost too well
-formed for a man; and that kind of broad forehead which conveys rather
-the idea of a generous, kind, open-hearted disposition, than of a deep
-mind or a commanding intellect.
-
-Frank was a very handsome fellow, and he knew it; and when he commenced
-so many ill-authorised expenses immediately on his grandfather's death,
-he consoled himself with the idea, that with his person and rank, he
-would soon be able, by some happy matrimonial speculation, to make up
-for what he wanted in wealth. And he had not been long his own master,
-before he met with the lady to whom he destined the honour of doing so.
-
-He had, however, not properly considered his own disposition, when he
-determined upon looking out for great wealth; and on disregarding other
-qualifications in his bride, so that he obtained that in sufficient
-quantity. He absolutely fell in love with Fanny Wyndham, though her
-twenty thousand pounds was felt by him to be hardly enough to excuse
-him in doing so,--certainly not enough to make his doing so an
-accomplishment of his prudential resolutions. What would twenty
-thousand pounds do towards clearing the O'Kelly property, and
-establishing himself in a manner and style fitting for a Lord
-Ballindine! However, he did propose to her, was accepted, and the
-match, after many difficulties, was acceded to by the lady's guardian,
-the Earl of Cashel. It was stipulated, however, that the marriage
-should not take place till the lady was of age; and at the time of
-the bargain, she wanted twelve months of that period of universal
-discretion. Lord Cashel had added, in his prosy, sensible, aristocratic
-lecture on the subject to Lord Ballindine, that he trusted that, during
-the interval, considering their united limited income, his lordship
-would see the wisdom of giving up his hounds, or at any rate of
-withdrawing from the turf.
-
-Frank pooh-poohed at the hounds, said that horses cost nothing in
-Connaught, and dogs less, and that he could not well do there without
-them; but promised to turn in his mind what Lord Cashel had said
-about the turf; and, at last, went so far as to say that when a good
-opportunity offered of backing out, he would part with Finn M'Coul and
-Granuell--as the two nags at Igoe's were patriotically denominated.
-
-They continued, however, appearing in the Curragh lists in Lord
-Ballindine's name, as a part of Igoe's string; and running for Queen's
-whips, Wellingtons and Madrids, sometimes with good and sometimes with
-indifferent success. While their noble owner, when staying at Grey
-Abbey, Lord Cashel's magnificent seat near Kilcullen, spent too much
-of his time (at least so thought the earl and Fanny Wyndham) in seeing
-them get their gallops, and in lecturing the grooms, and being lectured
-by Mr Igoe. Nothing more, however, could be done; and it was trusted
-that when the day of the wedding should come, he would be found minus
-the animals. What, however, was Lord Cashel's surprise, when, after an
-absence of two months from Grey Abbey, Lord Ballindine declared, in the
-earl's presence, with an air of ill-assumed carelessness, that he had
-been elected one of the stewards of the Curragh, in the room of Walter
-Blake, Esq., who had retired in rotation from that honourable office!
-The next morning the earl's chagrin was woefully increased by his
-hearing that that very valuable and promising Derby colt, Brien Boru,
-now two years old, by Sir Hercules out of Eloisa, had been added to his
-lordship's lot.
-
-Lord Cashel felt that he could not interfere, further than by remarking
-that it appeared his young friend was determined to leave the turf with
-eclat; and Fanny Wyndham could only be silent and reserved for one
-evening. This occurred about four months before the commencement of my
-tale, and about five before the period fixed for the marriage; but, at
-the time at which Lord Ballindine will be introduced in person to the
-reader, he had certainly made no improvement in his manner of going
-on. He had, during this period, received from Lord Cashel a letter
-intimating to him that his lordship thought some further postponement
-advisable; that it was as well not to fix any day; and that, though
-his lordship would always be welcome at Grey Abbey, when his personal
-attendance was not required at the Curragh, it was better that no
-correspondence by letter should at present be carried on between him
-and Miss Wyndham; and that Miss Wyndham herself perfectly agreed in the
-propriety of these suggestions.
-
-Now Grey Abbey was only about eight miles distant from the Curragh,
-and Lord Ballindine had at one time been in the habit of staying
-at his friend's mansion, during the period of his attendance at the
-race-course; but since Lord Cashel had shown an entire absence of
-interest in the doings of Finn M'Coul, and Fanny had ceased to ask
-after Granuell's cough, he had discontinued doing so, and had spent
-much of his time at his friend Walter Blake's residence at the Curragh.
-Now, Handicap Lodge offered much more dangerous quarters for him than
-did Grey Abbey.
-
-In the meantime, his friends in Connaught were delighted at the
-prospect of his bringing home a bride. Fanny's twenty thousand were
-magnified to fifty, and the capabilities even of fifty were greatly
-exaggerated; besides, the connection was so good a one, so exactly
-the thing for the O'Kellys! Lord Cashel was one of the first resident
-noblemen in Ireland, a representative peer, a wealthy man, and
-possessed of great influence; not unlikely to be a cabinet minister if
-the Whigs came in, and able to shower down into Connaught a degree of
-patronage, such as had never yet warmed that poor unfriended region.
-And Fanny Wyndham was not only his lordship's ward, but his favourite
-niece also! The match was, in every way, a good one, and greatly
-pleasing to all the Kellys, whether with an O or without, for "shure
-they were all the one family."
-
-Old Simeon Lynch and his son Barry did not participate in the general
-joy. They had calculated that their neighbour was on the high road to
-ruin, and that he would soon have nothing but his coronet left. They
-could not, therefore, bear the idea of his making so eligible a match.
-They had, moreover, had domestic dissensions to disturb the peace of
-Dunmore House. Simeon had insisted on Barry's taking a farm into his
-own hands, and looking after it. Barry had declared his inability to
-do so, and had nearly petrified the old man by expressing a wish to go
-to Paris. Then, Barry's debts had showered in, and Simeon had pledged
-himself not to pay them. Simeon had threatened to disinherit Barry; and
-Barry had called his father a d----d obstinate old fool.
-
-These quarrels had got to the ears of the neighbours, and it was being
-calculated that, in the end, Barry would get the best of the battle;
-when, one morning, the war was brought to an end by a fit of apoplexy,
-and the old man was found dead in his chair. And then a terrible blow
-fell upon the son; for a recent will was found in the old man's desk,
-dividing his property equally, and without any other specification,
-between Barry and Anty.
-
-This was a dreadful blow to Barry. He consulted with his friend Molloy,
-the attorney of Tuam, as to the validity of the document and the power
-of breaking it; but in vain. It was properly attested, though drawn up
-in the old man's own hand-writing; and his sister, whom he looked upon
-but as little better than a head main-servant, had not only an equal
-right to all the property, but was equally mistress of the house, the
-money at the bank, the wine in the cellar, and the very horses in the
-stable.
-
-This was a hard blow; but Barry was obliged to bear it. At first, he
-showed his ill-humour plainly enough in his treatment of his sister;
-but he soon saw that this was folly, and that, though her quiet
-disposition prevented her from resenting it, such conduct would drive
-her to marry some needy man. Then he began, with an ill grace, to try
-what coaxing would do. He kept, however, a sharp watch on all her
-actions; and on once hearing that, in his absence, the two Kelly girls
-from the hotel had been seen walking with her, he gave her a long
-lecture on what was due to her own dignity, and the memory of her
-departed parents.
-
-He made many overtures to her as to the division of the property; but,
-easy and humble as Anty was, she was careful enough to put her name to
-nothing that could injure her rights. They had divided the money at the
-banker's, and she had once rather startled Barry by asking him for his
-moiety towards paying the butcher's bill; and his dismay was completed
-shortly afterwards by being informed, by a steady old gentleman
-in Dunmore, whom he did not like a bit too well, that he had been
-appointed by Miss Lynch to manage her business and receive her rents.
-
-As soon as it could be decently done, after his father's burial, Barry
-took himself off to Dublin, to consult his friends there as to what he
-should do; but he soon returned, determined to put a bold face on it,
-and come to some understanding with his sister.
-
-He first proposed to her to go and live in Dublin, but she said she
-preferred Dunmore. He then talked of selling the house, and to this she
-agreed. He next tried to borrow money for the payment of his debts; on
-which she referred him to the steady old man. Though apparently docile
-and obedient, she would not put herself in his hands, nor would her
-agent allow him to take any unfair advantage of her.
-
-Whilst this was going on, our friend Martin Kelly had set his eye upon
-the prize, and, by means of his sister's intimacy with Anty, and his
-own good looks, had succeeded in obtaining from her half a promise to
-become his wife. Anty had but little innate respect for gentry; and,
-though she feared her brother's displeasure, she felt no degradation at
-the idea of uniting herself to a man in Martin Kelly's rank. She could
-not, however, be brought to tell her brother openly, and declare her
-determination; and Martin had, at length, come to the conclusion that
-he must carry her off, before delay and unforeseen changes might either
-alter her mind, or enable her brother to entice her out of the country.
-
-Thus matters stood at Dunmore when Martin Kelly started for Dublin, and
-at the time when he was about to wait on his patron at Morrison's
-hotel.
-
-Both Martin and Lord Ballindine (and they were related in some distant
-degree, at least so always said the Kellys, and I never knew that the
-O'Kellys denied it)--both the young men were, at the time, anxious to
-get married, and both with the same somewhat mercenary views; and I
-have fatigued the reader with the long history of past affairs, in
-order to imbue him, if possible, with some interest in the ways and
-means which they both adopted to accomplish their objects.
-
-
-
-
-III.  MORRISON'S HOTEL
-
-
-At about five o'clock on the evening of the day of Sheil's speech, Lord
-Ballindine and his friend, Walter Blake, were lounging on different
-sofas in a room at Morrison's Hotel, before they went up to dress for
-dinner. Walter Blake was an effeminate-looking, slight-made man, about
-thirty or thirty-three years of age; good looking, and gentlemanlike,
-but presenting quite a contrast in his appearance to his friend Lord
-Ballindine. He had a cold quiet grey eye, and a thin lip; and, though
-he was in reality a much cleverer, he was a much less engaging man. Yet
-Blake could be very amusing; but he rather laughed at people than with
-them, and when there were more than two in company, he would usually
-be found making a butt of one. Nevertheless, his society was greatly
-sought after. On matters connected with racing, his word was
-infallible. He rode boldly, and always rode good horses; and, though
-he was anything but rich, he managed to keep up a comfortable snuggery
-at the Curragh, and to drink the very best claret that Dublin could
-procure.
-
-Walter Blake was a finished gambler, and thus it was, that with about
-six hundred a year, he managed to live on equal terms with the richest
-around him. His father, Laurence Blake of Castleblakeney, in County
-Galway, was a very embarrassed man, of good property, strictly
-entailed, and, when Walter came of age, he and his father, who could
-never be happy in the same house, though possessing in most things
-similar tastes, had made such a disposition of the estate, as gave the
-father a clear though narrowed income, and enabled the son at once to
-start into the world, without waiting for his father's death; though,
-by so doing, he greatly lessened the property which he must otherwise
-have inherited.
-
-Blake was a thorough gambler, and knew well how to make the most of the
-numerous chances which the turf afforded him. He had a large stud of
-horses, to the training and working of which he attended almost as
-closely as the person whom he paid for doing so. But it was in the
-betting-ring that he was most formidable. It was said, in Kildare
-Street, that no one at Tattersall's could beat him at a book. He had
-latterly been trying a wider field than the Curragh supplied him and
-had, on one or two occasions, run a horse in England with such success,
-as had placed him, at any rate, quite at the top of the Irish sporting
-tree.
-
-He was commonly called "Dot Blake", in consequence of his having told
-one of his friends that the cause of his, the friend's, losing so much
-money on the turf, was, that he did not mind "the dot and carry on"
-part of the business; meaning thereby, that he did not attend to the
-necessary calculations. For a short time after giving this piece of
-friendly caution, he had been nick-named, "Dot and carry on"; but that
-was too long to last, and he had now for some years been known to every
-sporting man in Ireland as "Dot" Blake.
-
-This man was at present Lord Ballindine's most intimate friend, and he
-could hardly have selected a more dangerous one. They were now going
-down together to Handicap Lodge, though there was nothing to be done in
-the way of racing for months to come. Yet Blake knew his business too
-well to suppose that his presence was necessary only when the horses
-were running; and he easily persuaded his friend that it was equally
-important that he should go and see that it was all right with the
-Derby colt.
-
-They were talking almost in the dark, on these all-absorbing topics,
-when the waiter knocked at the door and informed them that a young man
-named Kelly wished to see Lord Ballindine.
-
-"Show him up," said Frank. "A tenant of mine, Dot; one of the
-respectable few of that cattle, indeed, almost the only one that I've
-got; a sort of subagent, and a fifteenth cousin, to boot, I believe.
-I am going to put him to the best use I know for such respectable
-fellows, and that is, to get him to borrow money for me."
-
-"And he'll charge you twice as much for it, and make three times as
-much bother about it, as the fellows in the next street who have your
-title-deeds. When I want lawyer's business done, I go to a lawyer; and
-when I want to borrow money, I go to my own man of business; he makes
-it his business to find money, and he daren't rob me more than is
-decent, fitting, and customary, because he has a character to lose."
-
-"Those fellows at Guinness's make such a fuss about everything; and I
-don't put my nose into that little back room, but what every word I
-say, by some means or other, finds its way down to Grey Abbey."
-
-"Well, Frank, you know your own affairs best; but I don't think you'll
-make money by being afraid of your agent; or your wife's guardian, if
-she is to be your wife."
-
-"Afraid, man? I'm as much afraid of Lord Cashel as you are. I don't
-think I've shown myself much afraid; but I don't choose to make him my
-guardian, just when he's ceasing to be hers; nor do I wish, just now,
-to break with Grey Abbey altogether."
-
-"Do you mean to go over there from the Curragh next week?"
-
-"I don't think I shall. They don't like me a bit too well, when I've
-the smell of the stables on me."
-
-"There it is, again, Frank! What is it to you what Lord Cashel likes?
-If you wish to see Miss Wyndham, and if the heavy-pated old Don doesn't
-mean to close his doors against you, what business has he to inquire
-where you came from? I suppose he doesn't like me a bit too well; but
-you're not weak enough to be afraid to say that you've been at Handicap
-Lodge?"
-
-"The truth is, Dot, I don't think I'll go to Grey Abbey at all, till
-Fanny's of age. She only wants a month of it now; and then I can meet
-Lord Cashel in a business way, as one man should meet another."
-
-"I can't for the life of me," said Blake, "make out what it is that has
-set that old fellow so strong against horses. He won the Oaks twice
-himself, and that not so very long ago; and his own son, Kilcullen, is
-deeper a good deal on the turf than I am, and, by a long chalk less
-likely to pull through, as I take it. But here's the Connaught man on
-the stairs,--I could swear to Galway by the tread of his foot!"--and
-Martin knocked at the door, and walked in.
-
-"Well, Kelly," said Lord Ballindine, "how does Dublin agree with you?"
-And, "I hope I see your lordship well, my lord?" said Martin.
-
-"How are they all at Dunmore and Kelly's Court?"
-
-"Why thin, they're all well, my lord, except Sim Lynch--and he's dead.
-But your lordship'll have heard that."
-
-"What, old Simeon Lynch dead!" said Blake, "well then, there's
-promotion. Peter Mahon, that was the agent at Castleblakeney, is now
-the biggest rogue alive in Connaught."
-
-"Don't swear to that," said Lord Ballindine. "There's some of Sim's
-breed still left at Dunmore. It wouldn't be easy to beat Barry, would
-it, Kelly?"
-
-"Why then, I don't know; I wouldn't like to be saying against the
-gentleman's friend that he spoke of; and doubtless his honour knows him
-well, or he wouldn't say so much of him."
-
-"Indeed I do," said Blake. "I never give a man a good character till I
-know he deserves it. Well, Frank, I'll go and dress, and leave you and
-Mr. Kelly to your business," and he left the room.
-
-"I'm sorry to hear you speak so hard agin Mr. Barry, my lord," began
-Martin. "May-be he mayn't be so bad. Not but that he's a cross-grained
-piece of timber to dale with."
-
-"And why should you be sorry I'd speak against him? There's not more
-friendship, I suppose, between you and Barry Lynch now, than there used
-to be?"
-
-"Why, not exactly frindship, my lord; but I've my rasons why I'd wish
-you not to belittle the Lynches. Your lordship might forgive them all,
-now the old man's dead."
-
-"Forgive them!--indeed I can, and easily. I don't know I ever did any
-of them an injury, except when I thrashed Barry at Eton, for calling
-himself the son of a gentleman. But what makes you stick up for them?
-You're not going to marry the daughter, are you?"
-
-Martin blushed up to his forehead as his landlord thus hit the nail on
-the head; but, as it was dark, his blushes couldn't be seen. So, after
-dangling his hat about for a minute, and standing first on one foot,
-and then on the other, he took courage, and answered.
-
-"Well, Mr. Frank, that is, your lordship, I mane--I b'lieve I might do
-worse."
-
-"Body and soul, man!" exclaimed the other, jumping from his recumbent
-position on the sofa, "You don't mean to tell me you're going to marry
-Anty Lynch?"
-
-"In course not," answered Martin; "av' your lordship objects."
-
-"Object, man!--How the devil can I object? Why, she's six hundred a
-year, hasn't she?"
-
-"About four, my lord, I think's nearest the mark."
-
-"Four hundred a year! And I don't suppose you owe a penny in the
-world!"
-
-"Not much unless the last gale [10] to your lordship and we never pay
-that till next May."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 10: gale--rent payment. Gale day was the day on which
-                   rent was due.]
-
-"And so you're going to marry Anty Lynch!" again repeated Frank, as
-though he couldn't bring himself to realise the idea; "and now, Martin,
-tell me all about it,--how the devil you managed it--when it's to come
-off--and how you and Barry mean to hit it off together when you're
-brothers. I suppose I'll lose a good tenant any way?"
-
-"Not av' I'm a good one, you won't, with my consent, my lord."
-
-"Ah! but it'll be Anty's consent, now, you know. She mayn't like
-Toneroe. But tell me all about it. What put it into your head?"
-
-"Why, my lord, you run away so fast; one can't tell you anything. I
-didn't say I was going to marry her--at laist, not for certain;--I only
-said I might do worse."
-
-"Well then; are you going to marry her, or rather, is she going to
-marry you, or is she not?"
-
-"Why, I don't know. I'll tell your lordship just how it is. You know
-when old Sim died, my lord?"
-
-"Of course I do. Why, I was at Kelly's Court at the time."
-
-"So you were, my lord; I was forgetting. But you went away again
-immediately, and didn't hear how Barry tried to come round his sisther,
-when he heard how the will went; and how he tried to break the will and
-to chouse her out of the money."
-
-"Why, this is the very man you wouldn't let me call a rogue, a minute
-or two ago!"
-
-"Ah, my lord! that was just before sthrangers; besides, it's no use
-calling one's own people bad names. Not that he belongs to me yet, and
-may-be never will. But, between you and I, he is a rogue, and his
-father's son every inch of him."
-
-"Well, Martin, I'll remember. I'll not abuse him when he's your
-brother-in-law. But how did you get round the sister?--That's the
-question."
-
-"Well, my lord, I'll tell you. You know there was always a kind of
-frindship between Anty and the girls at home, and they set her up to
-going to old Moylan--he that receives the rents on young Barron's
-property, away at Strype. Moylan's uncle to Flaherty, that married
-mother's sister. Well, she went to him--he's a kind of office at
-Dunmore, my lord."
-
-"Oh, I know him and his office! He knows the value of a name at the
-back of a bit of paper, as well as any one."
-
-"May-be he does, my lord; but he's an honest old fellow, is Moylan,
-and manages a little for mother."
-
-"Oh, of course he's honest, Martin, because he belongs to you. You
-know Barry's to be an honest chap, then."
-
-"And that's what he niver will be the longest day he lives! But,
-however, Moylan got her to sign all the papers; and, when Barry
-was out, he went and took an inventhory to the house, and made out
-everything square and right, and you may be sure Barry'd have to
-get up very 'arly before he'd come round him. Well, after a little,
-the ould chap came to me one morning, and asked me all manner of
-questions--whether I knew Anty Lynch? whether we didn't used to be
-great friends? and a lot more. I never minded him much; for though I
-and Anty used to speak, and she'd dhrank tay on the sly with us two or
-three times before her father's death, I'd never thought much about
-her."
-
-"Nor wouldn't now, Martin, eh? if it wasn't for the old man's will."
-
-"In course I wouldn't, my lord. I won't be denying it. But, on the
-other hand, I wouldn't marry her now for all her money, av' I didn't
-mane to trate her well. Well, my lord, after beating about the bush for
-a long time, the ould thief popped it out, and told me that he thought
-Anty'd be all the betther for a husband; and that, av' I was wanting
-a wife, he b'lieved I might suit myself now. Well, I thought of it
-a little, and tould him I'd take the hint. The next day he comes to
-me again, all the way down to Toneroe, where I was walking the big
-grass-field by myself, and began saying that, as he was Anty's agent,
-of course he wouldn't see her wronged. 'Quite right, Mr. Moylan,' says
-I; 'and, as I mane to be her husband, I won't see her wronged neither.'
-'Ah! but,' says he, 'I mane that I must see her property properly
-settled.' 'Why not?' says I, 'and isn't the best way for her to marry?
-and then, you know, no one can schame her out of it. There's lots of
-them schamers about now,' says I. 'That's thrue for you,' says he,
-'and they're not far to look for,'--and that was thrue, too, my lord,
-for he and I were both schaming about poor Anty's money at that moment.
-'Well,' says he, afther walking on a little, quite quiet, 'av' you war
-to marry her.'--'Oh, I've made up my mind about that, Mr. Moylan,' says
-I. 'Well, av' it should come to pass that you do marry her--of course
-you'd expect to have the money settled on herself?' 'In course I would,
-when I die,' says I. 'No, but,' says he, 'at once: wouldn't it be
-enough for you to have a warm roof over your head, and a leg of mutton
-on the table every day, and no work to do for it?' and so, my lord, it
-came out that the money was to be settled on herself, and that he was
-to be her agent."
-
-"Well, Martin, after that, I think you needn't go to Sim Lynch, or
-Barry, for the biggest rogues in Connaught--to be settling the poor
-girl's money between you that way!"
-
-"Well, but listen, my lord. I gave in to the ould man; that is, I made
-no objection to his schame. But I was determined, av' I ever did marry
-Anty Lynch, that I would be agent and owner too, myself, as long as I
-lived; though in course it was but right that they should settle it so
-that av' I died first, the poor crature shouldn't be out of her money.
-But I didn't let on to him about all that; for, av' he was angered, the
-ould fool might perhaps spoil the game; and I knew av' Anty married me
-at all, it'd be for liking; and av' iver I got on the soft side of her,
-I'd soon be able to manage matthers as I plazed, and ould Moylan'd soon
-find his best game'd be to go asy."
-
-"Upon my soul, Martin, I think you seem to have been the sharpest rogue
-of the two! Is there an honest man in Connaught at all, I wonder?"
-
-"I can't say rightly, just at present, my lord; but there'll be two,
-plaze God, when I and your lordship are there."
-
-"Thank ye, Kelly, for the compliment, and especially for the good
-company. But let me hear how on earth you ever got face enough to go up
-and ask Anty Lynch to marry you."
-
-"Oh!--a little soft sawther did it! I wasn't long in putting my
-com'ether on her when I once began. Well, my lord, from that day
-out--from afther Moylan's visit, you know--I began really to think of
-it. I'm sure the ould robber meant to have asked for a wapping sum of
-money down, for his good will in the bargain; but when he saw me he got
-afeard."
-
-"He was another honest man, just now!"
-
-"Only among sthrangers, my lord. I b'lieve he's a far-off cousin of
-your own, and I wouldn't like to spake ill of the blood."
-
-"God forbid! But go on, Kelly."
-
-"Well, so, from that out, I began to think of it in arnest. The Lord
-forgive me! but my first thoughts was how I'd like to pull down Barry
-Lynch; and my second that I'd not demane myself by marrying the sisther
-of such an out-and-out ruffian, and that it wouldn't become me to live
-on the money that'd been got by chating your lordship's grandfather."
-
-"My lordship's grandfather ought to have looked after that himself. If
-those are all your scruples they needn't stick in your throat much."
-
-"I said as much as that to myself, too. So I soon went to work. I was
-rather shy about it at first; but the girls helped me. They put it into
-her head, I think, before I mentioned it at all. However, by degrees, I
-asked her plump, whether she'd any mind to be Mrs. Kelly? and, though
-she didn't say 'yes,' she didn't say 'no.'"
-
-"But how the devil, man, did you manage to get at her? I'm told Barry
-watches her like a dragon, ever since he read his father's will."
-
-"He couldn't watch her so close, but what she could make her way down
-to mother's shop now and again. Or, for the matter of that, but what I
-could make my way up to the house."
-
-"That's true, for what need she mind Barry, now? She may marry whom
-she pleases, and needn't tell him, unless she likes, until the priest
-has his book ready."
-
-"Ah, my lord! but there's the rub. She is afraid of Barry; and though
-she didn't say so, she won't agree to tell him, or to let me tell him,
-or just to let the priest walk into the house without telling him.
-She's fond of Barry, though, for the life of me, I can't see what there
-is in him for anybody to be fond of. He and his father led her the
-divil's own life mewed up there, because she wouldn't be a nun. But
-still is both fond and afraid of him; and, though I don't think she'll
-marry anybody else--at laist not yet awhile, I don't think she'll ever
-get courage to marry me--at any rate, not in the ordinary way."
-
-"Why then, Martin, you must do something extraordinary, I suppose."
-
-"That's just it, my lord; and what I wanted was, to ask your
-lordship's advice and sanction, like."
-
-"Sanction! Why I shouldn't think you'd want anybody's sanction for
-marrying a wife with four hundred a-year. But, if that's anything to
-you, I can assure you I approve of it."
-
-"Thank you, my lord. That's kind."
-
-"To tell the truth," continued Lord Ballindine, "I've a little of your
-own first feeling. I'd be glad of it, if it were only for the rise it
-would take out of my schoolfellow, Barry. Not but that I think you're a
-deal too good to be his brother-in-law. And you know, Kelly, or ought
-to know, that I'd be heartily glad of anything for your own welfare.
-So, I'd advise you to hammer away while the iron's hot, as the saying
-is."
-
-"That's just what I'm coming to. What'd your lordship advise me to do?"
-
-"Advise you? Why, you must know best yourself how the matter stands.
-Talk her over, and make her tell Barry."
-
-"Divil a tell, my lord, in her. She wouldn't do it in a month of
-Sundays."
-
-"Then do you tell him, at once. I suppose you're not afraid of him?"
-
-"She'd niver come to the scratch, av' I did. He'd bully the life out of
-her, or get her out of the counthry some way."
-
-"Then wait till his back's turned for a month or so. When he's out,
-let the priest walk in, and do the matter quietly that way."
-
-"Well, I thought of that myself, my lord; but he's as wary as a
-weazel, and I'm afeard he smells something in the wind. There's that
-blackguard Moylan, too, he'd be telling Barry--and would, when he came
-to find things weren't to be settled as he intended."
-
-"Then you must carry her off, and marry her up here, or in Galway or
-down in Connemara, or over at Liverpool, or any where you please."
-
-"Now you've hit it, my lord. That's just what I'm thinking myself.
-Unless I take her off Gretna Green fashion, I'll never get her."
-
-"Then why do you want my advice, if you've made up your mind to that? I
-think you're quite right; and what's more, I think you ought to lose
-no time in doing it. Will she go, do you think?"
-
-"Why, with a little talking, I think she will."
-
-"Then what are you losing your time for, man? Hurry down, and off with
-her! I think Dublin's probably your best ground."
-
-"Then you think, my lord, I'd betther do it at once?"
-
-"Of course, I do! What is there to delay you?"
-
-"Why, you see, my lord, the poor girl's as good as got no friends, and
-I wouldn't like it to be thought in the counthry, I'd taken her at a
-disadvantage. It's thrue enough in one way, I'm marrying her for the
-money; that is, in course, I wouldn't marry her without it. And I tould
-her, out open, before her face, and before the girls, that, av' she'd
-ten times as much, I wouldn't marry her unless I was to be masther, as
-long as I lived, of everything in my own house, like another man; and I
-think she liked me the betther for it. But, for all that, I wouldn't
-like to catch her up without having something fair done by the
-property."
-
-"The lawyers, Martin, can manage that, afterwards. When she's once Mrs
-Kelly, you can do what you like about the fortune."
-
-"That's thrue, my lord. But I wouldn't like the bad name I'd get
-through the counthry av' I whisked her off without letting her settle
-anything. They'd be saying I robbed her, whether I did or no: and when
-a thing's once said, it's difficult to unsay it. The like of me, my
-lord, can't do things like you noblemen and gentry. Besides, mother'd
-never forgive me. They think, down there, that poor Anty's simple
-like; tho' she's cute enough, av' they knew her. I wouldn't, for all
-the money, wish it should be said that Martin Kelly ran off with a
-fool, and robbed her. Barry 'd be making her out a dale more simple
-than she is; and, altogether, my lord, I wouldn't like it."
-
-"Well, Martin, perhaps you're right. At any rate you're on the right
-side. What is it then you think of doing?"
-
-"Why, I was thinking, my lord, av' I could get some lawyer here to draw
-up a deed, just settling all Anty's property on herself when I die, and
-on her children, av' she has any,--so that I couldn't spend it you
-know; she could sign it, and so could I, before we started; and then
-I'd feel she'd been traited as well as tho' she'd all the friends in
-Connaught to her back."
-
-"And a great deal better, probably. Well, Martin, I'm no lawyer, but I
-should think there'd not be much difficulty about that. Any attorney
-could do it."
-
-"But I'd look so quare, my lord, walking into a sthranger's room and
-explaining what I wanted--all about the running away and everything. To
-be sure there's my brother John's people; they're attorneys; but it's
-about robberies, and hanging, and such things they're most engaged; and
-I was thinking, av' your lordship wouldn't think it too much throuble
-to give me a line to your own people; or, may-be, you'd say a word to
-them explaining what I want. It'd be the greatest favour in life."
-
-"I'll tell you what I'll do, Kelly. I'll go with you, to-morrow, to Mr
-Blake's lawyers--that's my friend that was sitting here--and I've no
-doubt we'll get the matter settled. The Guinnesses, you know, do all my
-business, and they're not lawyers."
-
-"Long life to your lordship, and that's just like yourself! I knew
-you'd stick by me. And shall I call on you to-morrow, my lord? and at
-what time?"
-
-"Wait! here's Mr Blake. I'll ask him, and you might as well meet me
-there. Grey and Forrest's the name; it's in Clare Street, I think."
-Here Mr Blake again entered the room.
-
-"What!" said he; "isn't your business over yet, Ballindine? I suppose
-I'm _de trop_ then. Only mind, dinner's ordered for half past six, and
-it's that now, and you're not dressed yet!"
-
-"You're not _de trop_, and I was just wanting you. We're all friends
-here, Kelly, you know; and you needn't mind my telling Mr Blake. Here's
-this fellow going to elope with an heiress from Connaught, and he
-wants a decently honest lawyer first."
-
-"I should have thought," said Blake, "that an indecently dishonest
-clergyman would have suited him better under those circumstances."
-
-"May-be he'll want that, too, and I've no doubt you can recommend one.
-But at present he wants a lawyer; and, as I have none of my own, I
-think Forrest would serve his turn."
-
-"I've always found Mr Forrest ready to do anything in the way of his
-profession--for money."
-
-"No, but--he'd draw up a deed, wouldn't he, Blake? It's a sort of a
-marriage settlement."
-
-"Oh, he's quite at home at that work! He drew up five, for my five
-sisters, and thereby ruined my father's property, and my prospects."
-
-"Well, he'd see me to-morrow, wouldn't he?" said Lord Ballindine.
-
-"Of course he would. But mind, we're to be off early. We ought to be at
-the Curragh, by three."
-
-"I suppose I could see him at ten?" said his lordship.
-
-It was then settled that Blake should write a line to the lawyer,
-informing him that Lord Ballindine wished to see him, at his office,
-at ten o'clock the next morning; it was also agreed that Martin should
-meet him there at that hour; and Kelly took his leave, much relieved on
-the subject nearest his heart.
-
-"Well, Frank," said Blake, as soon as the door was closed, "and have
-you got the money you wanted?"
-
-"Indeed I've not, then."
-
-"And why not? If your protege is going to elope with an heiress, he
-ought to have money at command."
-
-"And so he will, and it'll be a great temptation to me to know where I
-can get it so easily. But he was telling me all about this woman before
-I thought of my own concerns--and I didn't like to be talking to him of
-what I wanted myself, when he'd been asking a favour of me. It would be
-too much like looking for payment."
-
-"There, you're wrong; fair barter is the truest and honestest system,
-all the world over.--'Ca me, ca thee,' as the Scotch call it, is the
-best system to go by. I never do, or ask, _a favour_; that is, for
-whatever I do, I expect a return; and for whatever I get, I intend to
-make one."
-
-"I'll get the money from Guinness. After all, that'll be the best, and
-as you say, the cheapest."
-
-"There you're right. His business is to lend money, and he'll lend it
-you as long as you've means to repay it; and I'm sure no Connaught man
-will do more--that is, if I know them."
-
-"I suppose he will, but heaven only knows how long that'll be!" and the
-young lord threw himself back on the sofa, as if he thought a little
-meditation would do him good. However, very little seemed to do for
-him, for he soon roused himself, and said, "I wonder how the devil,
-Dot, you do without borrowing? My income's larger than yours, bad as
-it is; I've only three horses in training, and you've, I suppose, above
-a dozen; and, take the year through, I don't entertain half the fellows
-at Kelly's Court that you do at Handicap Lodge; and yet, I never hear
-of your borrowing money."
-
-"There's many reasons for that. In the first place, I haven't an
-estate; in the second, I haven't a mother; in the third, I haven't a
-pack of hounds; in the fourth, I haven't a title; and, in the fifth,
-no one would lend me money, if I asked it."
-
-"As for the estate, it's devilish little I spend on it; as for my
-mother, she has her own jointure; as for the hounds, they eat my own
-potatoes; and as for the title, I don't support it. But I haven't your
-luck, Dot. You'd never want for money, though the mint broke."
-
-"Very likely I mayn't when it does; but I'm likely to be poor enough
-till that happy accident occurs. But, as far as luck goes, you've had
-more than me; you won nearly as much, in stakes, as I did, last autumn,
-and your stable expenses weren't much above a quarter what mine were.
-But, the truth is, I manage better; I know where my money goes to,
-and you don't; I work hard, and you don't; I spend my money on what's
-necessary to my style of living, you spend yours on what's not
-necessary. What the deuce have the fellows in Mayo and Roscommon done
-for you, that you should mount two or three rascals, twice a-week,
-to show them sport, when you're not there yourself two months in the
-season? I suppose you don't keep the horses and men for nothing, if you
-do the dogs; and I much doubt whether they're not the dearest part of
-the bargain."
-
-"Of course they cost something; but it's the only thing I can do for
-the country; and there were always hounds at Kelly's Court till my
-grandfather got the property, and they looked upon him as no better
-than an old woman, because he gave them up. Besides, I suppose I shall
-be living at Kelly's Court soon, altogether, and I could never get on
-then without hounds. It's bad enough, as it is."
-
-"I haven't a doubt in the world it's bad enough. I know what
-Castleblakeney is. But I doubt your living there. I've no doubt you'll
-try; that is, if you _do_ marry Miss Wyndham; but she'll be sick of
-it in three months, and you in six, and you'll go and live at Paris,
-Florence, or Naples, and there'll be another end of the O'Kellys, for
-thirty or forty years, as far as Ireland's concerned. You'll never do
-for a poor country lord; you're not sufficiently proud, or stingy.
-You'd do very well as a country gentleman, and you'd make a decent
-nobleman with such a fortune as Lord Cashel's. But your game, if you
-lived on your own property, would be a very difficult one, and one for
-which you've neither tact nor temper."
-
-"Well, I hope I'll never live out of Ireland. Though I mayn't have tact
-to make one thousand go as far as five, I've sense enough to see that
-a poor absentee landlord is a great curse to his country; and that's
-what I hope I never shall be."
-
-"My dear Lord Ballindine; all poor men are curses, to themselves or
-some one else."
-
-"A poor absentee's the worst of all. He leaves nothing behind, and can
-leave nothing. He wants all he has for himself; and, if he doesn't give
-his neighbours the profit which must arise somewhere, from his own
-consumption, he can give nothing. A rich man can afford to leave three
-or four thousand a year behind him, in the way of wages for labour."
-
-"My gracious, Frank! You should put all that in a pamphlet, and not
-inflict it on a poor devil waiting for his dinner. At present, give
-your profit to Morrison, and come and consume some mock-turtle; and
-I'll tell you what Sheil's going to do for us all."
-
-Lord Ballindine did as he was bid, and left the room to prepare for
-dinner. By the time that he had eaten his soup, and drank a glass of
-wine, he had got rid of the fit of blue devils which the thoughts
-of his poverty had brought on, and he spent the rest of the evening
-comfortably enough, listening to his friend's comical version of
-Shell's speech; receiving instruction from that great master of the art
-as to the manner in which he should treat his Derby colt, and being
-flattered into the belief that he would be a prominent favourite for
-that great race.
-
-When they had finished their wine, they sauntered into the Kildare
-Street Club.
-
-Blake was soon busy with his little betting-book, and Lord Ballindine
-followed his example. Brien Boru was, before long, in great demand.
-Blake took fifty to one, and then talked the horse up till he ended by
-giving twenty-five. He was soon ranked the first of the Irish lot; and
-the success of the Hibernians had made them very sanguine of late. Lord
-Ballindine found himself the centre of a little sporting circle, as
-being the man with the crack nag of the day. He was talked of, courted,
-and appealed to; and, I regret to say, that before he left the club
-he was again nearly forgetting Kelly's Court and Miss Wyndham, had
-altogether got rid of his patriotic notions as to the propriety of
-living on his own estate, had determined forthwith to send Brien Boru
-over to Scott's English stables; and then, went to bed, and dreamed
-that he was a winner of the Derby, and was preparing for the glories of
-Newmarket with five or six thousand pounds in his pocket.
-
-Martin Kelly dined with his brother at Jude's, and spent his evening
-equally unreasonably; at least, it may be supposed so from the fact
-that at one o'clock in the morning he was to be seen standing on one of
-the tables at Burton Bindon's oyster-house, with a pewter pot, full of
-porter, in his hand, and insisting that every one in the room should
-drink the health of Anty Lynch, whom, on that occasion, he swore to be
-the prettiest and the youngest girl in Connaught.
-
-It was lucky he was so intoxicated, that no one could understand him;
-and that his hearers were so drunk that they could understand nothing;
-as, otherwise, the publicity of his admiration might have had the
-effect of preventing the accomplishment of his design.
-
-He managed, however, to meet his patron the next morning at the
-lawyer's, though his eyes were very red, and his cheeks pale; and,
-after being there for some half hour, left the office, with the
-assurance that, whenever he and the lady might please to call there,
-they should find a deed prepared for their signature, which would
-adjust the property in the manner required.
-
-That afternoon Lord Ballindine left Dublin, with his friend, to make
-instant arrangements for the exportation of Brien Boru; and, at two
-o'clock the next day, Martin left, by the boat, for Ballinaslie, having
-evinced his patriotism by paying a year's subscription in advance to
-the "Nation" newspaper, and with his mind fully made up to bring Anty
-away to Dublin with as little delay as possible.
-
-
-
-
-IV.  THE DUNMORE INN
-
-
-Anty Lynch was not the prettiest, or the youngest girl in Connaught;
-nor would Martin have affirmed her to be so, unless he had been very
-much inebriated indeed. However young she might have been once, she was
-never pretty; but, in all Ireland, there was not a more single-hearted,
-simple-minded young woman. I do not use the word simple as foolish;
-for, though uneducated, she was not foolish. But she was unaffected,
-honest, humble, and true, entertaining a very lowly idea of her own
-value, and unelated by her newly acquired wealth.
-
-She had been so little thought of all her life by others, that she
-had never learned to think much of herself; she had had but few
-acquaintances, and no friends, and had spent her life, hitherto,
-so quietly and silently, that her apparent apathy was attributable
-rather to want of subjects of excitement, than to any sluggishness of
-disposition. Her mother had died early; and, since then, the only case
-in which Anty had been called on to exercise her own judgment, was in
-refusing to comply with her father's wish that she should become a
-nun. On this subject, though often pressed, she had remained positive,
-always pleading that she felt no call to the sacred duties which would
-be required, and innocently assuring her father, that, if allowed to
-remain at home, she would cause him no trouble, and but little expense.
-
-So she had remained at home, and had inured herself to bear without
-grumbling, or thinking that she had cause for grumbling, the petulance
-of her father, and the more cruel harshness and ill-humour of her
-brother. In all the family schemes of aggrandisement she had been set
-aside, and Barry had been intended by the father as the scion on whom
-all the family honours were to fall. His education had been expensive,
-his allowance liberal, and his whims permitted; while Anty was never
-better dressed than a decent English servant, and had been taught
-nothing save the lessons she had learnt from her mother, who died when
-she was but thirteen.
-
-Mrs Lynch had died before the commencement of Sim's palmy days. They
-had seen no company in her time,--for they were then only rising
-people; and, since that, the great friends to whom Sim, in his wealth,
-had attached himself, and with whom alone he intended that Barry
-should associate, were all of the masculine gender. He gave bachelor
-dinner-parties to hard-drinking young men, for whom Anty was well
-contented to cook; and when they--as they often, from the effect of
-their potations, were perforce obliged to do--stayed the night at
-Dunmore House, Anty never showed herself in the breakfast parlour,
-but boiled the eggs, made the tea, and took her own breakfast in the
-kitchen.
-
-It was not wonderful, therefore, that no one proposed for Anty; and,
-though all who knew the Lynches, knew that Sim had a daughter, it was
-very generally given out that she was not so wise as her neighbours;
-and the father and brother took no pains to deny the rumour. The
-inhabitants of the village knew better; the Lynches were very generally
-disliked, and the shameful way "Miss Anty was trated," was often
-discussed in the little shops; and many of the townspeople were ready
-to aver that, "simple or no, Anty Lynch was the best of the breed,
-out-and-out."
-
-Matters stood thus at Dunmore, when the quarrel before alluded to,
-occurred, and when Sim made his will, dividing his property and died
-before destroying it, as he doubtless would have done, when his passion
-was over.
-
-Great was the surprise of every one concerned, and of many who were
-not at all concerned, when it was ascertained that Anty Lynch was an
-heiress, and that she was now possessed of four hundred pounds
-a-year in her own right; but the passion of her brother, it would
-be impossible to describe. He soon, however, found that it was too
-literally true, and that no direct means were at hand, by which he
-could deprive his sister of her patrimony. The lawyer, when he informed
-Anty of her fortune and present station, made her understand that she
-had an equal right with her brother in everything in the house; and
-though, at first, she tacitly acquiesced in his management, she was not
-at all simple enough to be ignorant of the rights of possession, or
-weak enough to relinquish them.
-
-Barry soon made up his mind that, as she had and must have the
-property, all he could now do was to take care that it should revert to
-him as her heir; and the measure of most importance in effecting this,
-would be to take care that she did not marry. In his first passion,
-after his father's death, he had been rough and cruel to her; but he
-soon changed his conduct, and endeavoured to flatter her into docility
-at one moment, and to frighten her into obedience in the next.
-
-He soon received another blow which was also a severe one. Moylan, the
-old man who proposed the match to Martin, called on him, and showed him
-that Anty had appointed him her agent, and had executed the necessary
-legal documents for the purpose. Upon this subject he argued for a
-long time with his sister,--pointing out to her that the old man would
-surely rob her--offering to act as her agent himself--recommending
-others as more honest and fitting--and, lastly, telling her that she
-was an obstinate fool, who would soon be robbed of every penny she had,
-and that she would die in a workhouse at last.
-
-But Anty, though she dreaded her brother, was firm. Wonderful as it
-may appear, she even loved him. She begged him not to quarrel with
-her,--promised to do everything to oblige him, and answered his wrath
-with gentleness; but it was of no avail. Barry knew that her agent was
-a plotter--that he would plot against his influence--though he little
-guessed then what would be the first step Moylan would take, or how
-likely it would be, if really acted on, to lead to his sister's comfort
-and happiness. After this, Barry passed two months of great misery and
-vexation. He could not make up his mind what to do, or what final steps
-to take, either about the property, his sister, or himself. At first,
-he thought of frightening Moylan and his sister, by pretending that
-he would prove Anty to be of weak mind, and not fit to manage her own
-affairs, and that he would indict the old man for conspiracy; but he
-felt that Moylan was not a man to be frightened by such bugbears. Then,
-he made up his mind to turn all he had into money, to leave his sister
-to the dogs, or any one who might choose to rob her, and go and live
-abroad. Then he thought, if his sister should die, what a pity it would
-be, he should lose it all, and how he should blame himself, if she were
-to die soon after having married some low adventurer; and he reflected;
-how probable such a thing would be--how likely that such a man would
-soon get rid of her; and then his mind began to dwell on her death,
-and to wish for it. He found himself constantly thinking of it, and
-ruminating on it, and determining that it was the only event which
-could set him right. His own debts would swallow up half his present
-property; and how could he bring himself to live on the pitiful
-remainder, when that stupid idiot, as he called her to himself, had
-three times more than she could possibly want? Morning after morning,
-he walked about the small grounds round the house, with his hat over
-his eyes, and his hands tossing about the money in his pockets,
-thinking of this,--cursing his father, and longing--almost praying for
-his sister's death. Then he would have his horse, and flog the poor
-beast along the roads without going anywhere, or having any object in
-view, but always turning the same thing over and over in his mind.
-And, after dinner, he would sit, by the hour, over the fire, drinking,
-longing for his sister's money, and calculating the probabilities of
-his ever possessing it. He began to imagine all the circumstances which
-might lead to her death; he thought of all the ways in which persons
-situated as she was, might, and often did, die. He reflected, without
-knowing that he was doing so, on the probability of robbers breaking
-into the house, if she were left alone in it, and of their murdering
-her; he thought of silly women setting their own clothes on fire--of
-their falling out of window--drowning themselves--of their perishing
-in a hundred possible but improbable ways. It was after he had been
-drinking a while, that these ideas became most vivid before his eyes,
-and seemed like golden dreams, the accomplishment of which he could
-hardly wish for. And, at last, as the fumes of the spirit gave him
-courage, other and more horrible images would rise to his imagination,
-and the drops of sweat would stand on his brow as he would invent
-schemes by which, were he so inclined, he could accelerate, without
-detection, the event for which he so ardently longed. With such
-thoughts would he turn into bed; and though in the morning he would try
-to dispel the ideas in which he had indulged overnight, they still left
-their impression on his mind;--they added bitterness to his hatred--and
-made him look on himself as a man injured by his father and sister, and
-think that he owed it to himself to redress his injuries by some
-extraordinary means.
-
-It was whilst Barry Lynch was giving way to such thoughts as these, and
-vainly endeavouring to make up his mind as to what he would do, that
-Martin made his offer to Anty. To tell the truth, it was Martin's
-sister Meg who had made the first overture; and, as Anty had not
-rejected it with any great disdain, but had rather shown a disposition
-to talk about it as a thing just possible, Martin had repeated it in
-person, and had reiterated it, till Anty had at last taught herself to
-look upon it as a likely and desirable circumstance. Martin had behaved
-openly and honourably with regard to the money part of the business;
-telling his contemplated bride that it was, of course, her fortune
-which had first induced him to think of her; but adding, that he would
-also value her and love her for herself, if she would allow him. He
-described to her the sort of settlement he should propose, and ended by
-recommending an early day for the wedding.
-
-Anty had sense enough to be pleased at his straightforward and honest
-manner; and, though she did not say much to himself, she said a great
-deal in his praise to Meg, which all found its way to Martin's ears.
-But still, he could not get over the difficulty which he had described
-to Lord Ballindine. Anty wanted to wait till her brother should go out
-of the country, and Martin was afraid that he would not go; and things
-were in this state when he started for Dublin.
-
-The village of Dunmore has nothing about it which can especially
-recommend it to the reader. It has none of those beauties of nature
-which have taught Irishmen to consider their country as the "first
-flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea". It is a dirty, ragged
-little town, standing in a very poor part of the country, with nothing
-about it to induce the traveller to go out of his beaten track. It is
-on no high road, and is blessed with no adventitious circumstances to
-add to its prosperity.
-
-It was once the property of the O'Kellys; but, in those times the
-landed proprietors thought but little of the towns; and now it is
-parcelled out among different owners, some of whom would think it folly
-to throw away a penny on the place, and others of whom have not a penny
-to throw away. It consists of a big street, two little streets, and a
-few very little lanes. There is a Court-house, where the barrister sits
-twice a year; a Barrack, once inhabited by soldiers, but now given up
-to the police; a large slated chapel, not quite finished; a few shops
-for soft goods; half a dozen shebeen-houses [11], ruined by Father
-Mathew; a score of dirty cabins offering "lodging and enthertainment",
-as announced on the window-shutters; Mrs. Kelly's inn and grocery-shop;
-and, last though not least, Simeon Lynch's new, staring house, built
-just at the edge of the town, on the road to Roscommon, which is
-dignified with the name of Dunmore House. The people of most influence
-in the village were Mrs. Kelly of the inn, and her two sworn friends,
-the parish priest and his curate. The former, Father Geoghegan, lived
-about three miles out of Dunmore, near Toneroe; and his curate, Father
-Pat Connel, inhabited one of the small houses in the place, very little
-better in appearance than those which offered accommodation to
-travellers and trampers.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 11: shebeen-houses--unlicensed drinking houses, where
-                   un-taxed ("moonshine") liquor was often served]
-
-Such was, and is, the town of Dunmore in the county of Galway; and I
-must beg the reader to presume himself to be present there with me on
-the morning on which the two young Kellys went to hear Sheil's speech.
-At about ten o'clock, the widow Kelly and her daughters were busy in
-the shop, which occupied the most important part of the ground-floor
-of the inn. It was a long, scrambling, ugly-looking house. Next to the
-shop, and opening out of it, was a large drinking-room, furnished with
-narrow benches and rickety tables; and here the more humble of Mrs.
-Kelly's guests regaled themselves. On the other side of this, was the
-hall, or passage of the house; and, next to that again, a large, dingy,
-dark kitchen, over which Sally reigned with her teapot dynasty, and in
-which were always congregated a parcel of ragged old men, boys, and
-noisy women, pretending to be busy, but usually doing but little good,
-and attracted by the warmth of the big fire, and the hopes of some
-scraps of food and drink.
-
-"For the widow Kelly--God bless her! was a thrue Christhian, and didn't
-begrudge the poor--more power to her--like some upstarts who might live
-to be in want yet, glory be to the Almighty!"
-
-The difference of the English and Irish character is nowhere more
-plainly discerned than in their respective kitchens. With the former,
-this apartment is probably the cleanest, and certainly the most
-orderly, in the house. It is rarely intruded into by those unconnected,
-in some way, with its business. Everything it contains is under
-the vigilant eye of its chief occupant, who would imagine it quite
-impossible to carry on her business, whether of an humble or
-important nature, if her apparatus was subjected to the hands of the
-unauthorised. An Irish kitchen is devoted to hospitality in every sense
-of the word. Its doors are open to almost all loungers and idlers; and
-the chances are that Billy Bawn, the cripple, or Judy Molloy, the deaf
-old hag, are more likely to know where to find the required utensil
-than the cook herself. It is usually a temple dedicated to the goddess
-of disorder; and, too often joined with her, is the potent deity of
-dirt. It is not that things are out of their place, for they have no
-place. It isn't that the floor is not scoured, for you cannot scour dry
-mud into anything but wet mud. It isn't that the chairs and tables look
-filthy, for there are none. It isn't that the pots, and plates, and
-pans don't shine, for you see none to shine. All you see is a grimy,
-black ceiling, an uneven clay floor, a small darkened window, one or
-two unearthly-looking recesses, a heap of potatoes in the corner, a
-pile of turf against the wall, two pigs and a dog under the single
-dresser, three or four chickens on the window-sill, an old cock
-moaning on the top of a rickety press, and a crowd of ragged garments,
-squatting, standing, kneeling, and crouching, round the fire, from
-which issues a babel of strange tongues, not one word of which is at
-first intelligible to ears unaccustomed to such eloquence.
-
-And yet, out of these unfathomable, unintelligible dens, proceed in due
-time dinners, of which the appearance of them gives no promise. Such a
-kitchen was Mrs. Kelly's; and yet, it was well known and attested by
-those who had often tried the experiment, that a man need think it no
-misfortune to have to get his dinner, his punch, and his bed, at the
-widow's.
-
-Above stairs were two sitting-rooms and a colony of bed-rooms, occupied
-indiscriminately by the family, or by such customers as might require
-them. If you came back to dine at the inn, after a day's shooting on
-the bogs, you would probably find Miss Jane's work-box on the table, or
-Miss Meg's album on the sofa; and, when a little accustomed to sojourn
-at such places, you would feel no surprise at discovering their
-dresses turned inside out, and hanging on the pegs in your bed-room;
-or at seeing their side-combs and black pins in the drawer of your
-dressing-table.
-
-On the morning in question, the widow and her daughters were engaged
-in the shop, putting up pen'norths of sugar, cutting bits of tobacco,
-tying bundles of dip candles, attending to chance customers, and
-preparing for the more busy hours of the day. It was evident that
-something had occurred at the inn, which had ruffled the even tenor of
-its way. The widow was peculiarly gloomy. Though fond of her children,
-she was an autocrat in her house, and accustomed, as autocrats usually
-are, to scold a good deal; and now she was using her tongue pretty
-freely. It wasn't the girls, however, she was rating, for they could
-answer for themselves;--and did, when they thought it necessary. But
-now, they were demure, conscious, and quiet. Mrs. Kelly was denouncing
-one of the reputed sins of the province to which she belonged, and
-describing the horrors of "schaming."
-
-"Them underhand ways," she declared, "niver come to no good. Av' it's
-thrue what Father Connel's afther telling me, there'll harum come of
-it before it's done and over. Schaming, schaming, and schaming for
-iver! The back of my hand to such doings! I wish the tongue had been
-out of Moylan's mouth, the ould rogue, before he put the thing in his
-head. Av' he wanted the young woman, and she was willing, why not
-take her in a dacent way, and have done with it. I'm sure she's ould
-enough. But what does he want with a wife like her?--making innimies
-for himself. I suppose he'll be sitting up for a gentleman now--bad
-cess to them for gentry; not but that he's as good a right as some,
-and a dale more than others, who are ashamed to put their hand to a
-turn of work. I hate such huggery muggery work up in a corner. It's
-half your own doing; and a nice piece of work it'll be, when he's got
-an ould wife and a dozen lawsuits!--when he finds his farm gone, and
-his pockets empty; for it'll be a dale asier for him to be getting the
-wife than the money--when he's got every body's abuse, and nothing
-else, by his bargain!"
-
-It was very apparent that Martin's secret had not been well kept, and
-that the fact of his intended marriage with Anty Lynch was soon likely
-to be known to all Dunmore. The truth was, that Moylan had begun to
-think himself overreached in the matter--to be afraid that, by the very
-measure he had himself proposed, he would lose all share in the great
-prize he had put in Martin's way, and that he should himself be the
-means of excluding his own finger from the pie. It appeared to him that
-if he allowed this, his own folly would only be equalled by the young
-man's ingratitude; and he determined therefore, if possible, to prevent
-the match. Whereupon he told the matter as a secret, to those whom he
-knew would set it moving. In a very short space of time it reached the
-ears of Father Connel; and he lost none in stepping down to learn the
-truth of so important a piece of luck to one of his parishioners, and
-to congratulate the widow. Here, however, he was out in his reckoning,
-for she declared she did not believe it,--that it wasn't, and couldn't
-be true; and it was only after his departure that she succeeded in
-extracting the truth from her daughters.
-
-The news, however, quickly reached the kitchen and its lazy crowd; and
-the inn door and its constant loungers; and was readily and gladly
-credited in both places.
-
-Crone after crone, and cripple after cripple, hurried into the shop, to
-congratulate the angry widow on "masther Martin's luck; and warn't he
-worthy of it, the handsome jewel--and wouldn't he look the gintleman,
-every inch of him?" and Sally expatiated greatly on it in the kitchen,
-and drank both their healths in an extra pot of tea, and Kate grinned
-her delight, and Jack the ostler, who took care of Martin's horse,
-boasted loudly of it in the street, declaring that "it was a good thing
-enough for Anty Lynch, with all her money, to get a husband at all out
-of the Kellys, for the divil a know any one knowed in the counthry
-where the Lynchs come from; but every one knowed who the Kellys
-wor--and Martin wasn't that far from the lord himself."
-
-There was great commotion, during the whole day, at the inn. Some said
-Martin had gone to town to buy furniture; others, that he had done so
-to prove the will. One suggested that he'd surely have to fight Barry,
-and another prayed that "if he did, he might kill the blackguard, and
-have all the fortin to himself, out and out, God bless him!"
-
-
-
-
-V.  A LOVING BROTHER
-
-
-The great news was not long before it reached the ears of one not
-disposed to receive the information with much satisfaction, and this
-was Barry Lynch, the proposed bride's amiable brother. The medium
-through which he first heard it was not one likely to add to his good
-humour. Jacky, the fool, had for many years been attached to the
-Kelly's Court family; that is to say, he had attached himself to it, by
-getting his food in the kitchen, and calling himself the lord's fool.
-But, latterly, he had quarrelled with Kelly's Court, and had insisted
-on being Sim Lynch's fool, much to the chagrin of that old man; and,
-since his death, he had nearly maddened Barry by following him through
-the street, and being continually found at the house-door when he went
-out. Jack's attendance was certainly dictated by affection rather than
-any mercenary views, for he never got a scrap out of the Dunmore House
-kitchen, or a halfpenny from his new patron. But still, he was Barry's
-fool; and, like other fools, a desperate annoyance to his master.
-
-On the day in question, as young Mr. Lynch was riding out of the gate,
-about three in the afternoon, there, as usual, was Jack.
-
-"Now yer honour, Mr. Barry, darling, shure you won't forget Jacky
-to-day. You'll not forget your own fool, Mr. Barry?"
-
-Barry did not condescend to answer this customary appeal, but only
-looked at the poor ragged fellow as though he'd like to flog the life
-out of him.
-
-"Shure your honour, Mr. Barry, isn't this the time then to open yer
-honour's hand, when Miss Anty, God bless her, is afther making sich a
-great match for the family?--Glory be to God!"
-
-"What d'ye mean, you ruffian?"
-
-"Isn't the Kellys great people intirely, Mr. Barry? and won't it be a
-great thing for Miss Anty, to be sib to a lord? Shure yer honour'd not
-be refusing me this blessed day."
-
-"What the d---- are you saying about Miss Lynch?" said Barry, his
-attention somewhat arrested by the mention of his sister's name.
-
-"Isn't she going to be married then, to the dacentest fellow in
-Dunmore? Martin Kelly, God bless him! Ah! there'll be fine times at
-Dunmore, then. He's not the boy to rattle a poor divil out of the
-kitchen into the cold winther night! The Kellys was always the right
-sort for the poor."
-
-Barry was frightened in earnest, now. It struck him at once that Jack
-couldn't have made the story out of his own head; and the idea that
-there was any truth in it, nearly knocked him off his horse. He rode
-on, however, trying to appear to be regardless of what had been said to
-him; and, as he trotted off, he heard the fool's parting salutation.
-
-"And will yer honour be forgething me afther the news I've brought yer?
-Well, hard as ye are, Misther Barry, I've hot yer now, any way."
-
-And, in truth, Jack had hit him hard. Of all things that could happen
-to him, this would be about the worst. He had often thought, with
-dread, of his sister's marrying, and of his thus being forced to divide
-everything--all his spoil, with some confounded stranger. But for her
-to marry a shopkeeper's son, in the very village in which he lived, was
-more than he could bear. He could never hold up his head in the county
-again. And then, he thought of his debts, and tried to calculate
-whether he might get over to France without paying them, and be able to
-carry his share of the property with him; and so he went on, pursuing
-his wretched, uneasy, solitary ride, sometimes sauntering along at a
-snail's pace, and then again spurring the poor brute, and endeavouring
-to bring his mind to some settled plan. But, whenever he did so, the
-idea of his sister's death was the only one which seemed to present
-either comfort or happiness.
-
-He made up his mind, at last, to put a bold face on the matter; to find
-out from Anty herself whether there was any truth in the story; and,
-if there should be,--for he felt confident she would not be able to
-deceive him,--to frighten her and the whole party of the Kellys out of
-what he considered a damnable conspiracy to rob him of his father's
-property,
-
-He got off his horse, and stalked into the house. On inquiry, he found
-that Anty was in her own room. He was sorry she was not out; for, to
-tell the truth, he was rather anxious to put off the meeting, as he
-did not feel himself quite up to the mark, and was ashamed of seeming
-afraid of her. He went into the stable, and abused the groom; into the
-kitchen, and swore at the maid; and then into the garden. It was a
-nasty, cold, February day, and he walked up and down the damp muddy
-walks till he was too tired and cold to walk longer, and then turned
-into the parlour, and remained with his back to the fire, till the man
-came in to lay the cloth, thinking on the one subject that occupied all
-his mind--occasionally grinding his teeth, and heaping curses on his
-father and sister, who, together, had inflicted such grievous, such
-unexpected injuries upon him.
-
-If, at this moment, there was a soul in all Ireland over whom Satan had
-full dominion--if there was a breast unoccupied by one good thought--if
-there was a heart wishing, a brain conceiving, and organs ready to
-execute all that was evil, from the worst motives, they were to be
-found in that miserable creature, as he stood there urging himself on
-to hate those whom he should have loved--cursing those who were nearest
-to him--fearing her, whom he had ill-treated all his life--and striving
-to pluck up courage to take such measures as might entirely quell
-her. Money was to him the only source of gratification. He had looked
-forward, when a boy, to his manhood, as a period when he might indulge,
-unrestrained, in pleasures which money would buy; and, when a man, to
-his father's death, as a time when those means would be at his full
-command. He had neither ambition, nor affection, in his nature; his
-father had taught him nothing but the excellence of money, and, having
-fully imbued him with this, had cut him off from the use of it.
-
-He was glad when he found that dinner was at hand, and that he could
-not now see his sister until after he had fortified himself with drink.
-Anty rarely, if ever, dined with him; so he sat down, and swallowed his
-solitary meal. He did not eat much, but he gulped down three or four
-glasses of wine; and, immediately on having done so, he desired the
-servant, with a curse, to bring him hot water and sugar, and not to
-keep him waiting all night for a tumbler of punch, as he did usually.
-Before the man had got into the kitchen, he rang the bell again;
-and when the servant returned breathless, with the steaming jug, he
-threatened to turn him out of the house at once, if he was not quicker
-in obeying the orders given him. He then made a tumbler of punch,
-filling the glass half full of spirits, and drinking it so hot as to
-scald his throat; and when that was done he again rang the bell, and
-desired the servant to tell Miss Anty that he wanted to speak to her.
-When the door was shut, he mixed more drink, to support his courage
-during the interview, and made up his mind that nothing should daunt
-him from preventing the marriage, in one way or another. When Anty
-opened the door, he was again standing with his back to the fire, his
-hands in his pockets, the flaps of his coat hanging over his arms, his
-shoulders against the mantel-piece, and his foot on the chair on which
-he had been sitting. His face was red, and his eyes were somewhat
-blood-shot; he had always a surly look, though, from his black hair,
-and large bushy whiskers, many people would have called him good
-looking; but now there was a scowl in his restless eyes, which
-frightened Anty when she saw it; and the thick drops of perspiration
-on his forehead did not add benignity to his face.
-
-"Were you wanting me, Barry?" said Anty, who was the first to speak.
-
-"What do you stand there for, with the door open?" replied her brother,
-"d' you think I want the servants to hear what I've got to say?"
-
-"'Deed I don't know," said Anty, shutting the door; "but they'll hear
-just as well now av' they wish, for they'll come to the kay-hole."
-
-"Will they, by G----!" said Barry, and he rushed to the door, which
-he banged open; finding no victim outside on whom to exercise his
-wrath--"let me catch 'em!" and he returned to his position by the fire.
-
-Anty had sat down on a sofa that stood by the wall opposite the
-fireplace, and Barry remained for a minute, thinking how he'd open the
-campaign. At last he began:
-
-"Anty, look you here, now. What scheme have you got in your
-head?--You'd better let me know, at once."
-
-"What schame, Barry?"
-
-"Well--what schame, if you like that better."
-
-"I've no schame in my head, that I know of--at laist--" and then Anty
-blushed. It would evidently be easy enough to make the poor girl tell
-her own secret.
-
-"Well, go on--at laist--"
-
-"I don't know what you mane, Barry. Av' you're going to be badgering me
-again, I'll go away."
-
-"It's evident you're going to do something you're ashamed of, when
-you're afraid to sit still, and answer a common question. But you must
-answer me. I'm your brother, and have a right to know. What's this
-you're going to do?' He didn't like to ask her at once whether she was
-going to get married. It might not be true, and then he would only be
-putting the idea into her head. 'Well,--why don't you answer me? What
-is it you're going to do?"
-
-"Is it about the property you mane, Barry?"
-
-"What a d----d hypocrite you are! As if you didn't know what I mean!
-As for the property, I tell you there'll be little left the way you're
-going on. And as to that, I'll tell you what I'm going to do; so, mind,
-I warn you beforehand. You're not able--that is, you're too foolish and
-weak-headed to manage it yourself; and I mean, as your guardian, to put
-it into the hands of those that shall manage it for you. I'm not going
-to see you robbed and duped, and myself destroyed by such fellows as
-Moylan, and a crew of huxtering blackguards down in Dunmore. And now,
-tell me at once, what's this I hear about you and the Kellys?"
-
-"What Kellys?" said Anty, blushing deeply, and half beside herself with
-fear--for Barry's face was very red, and full of fierce anger, and his
-rough words frightened her.
-
-"What Kellys! Did you ever hear of Martin Kelly? d----d young robber
-that he is!" Anty blushed still deeper--rose a little way from the
-sofa, and then sat down again. "Look you here, Anty--I'll have the
-truth out of you. I'm not going to be bamboozled by such an idiot as
-you. You got an old man, when he was dying, to make a will that has
-robbed me of what was my own, and now you think you'll play your own
-low game; but you're mistaken! You've lived long enough without a
-husband to do without one now; and I can tell you I'm not going to see
-my property carried off by such a low, paltry blackguard as Martin
-Kelly."
-
-"How can he take your property, Barry?" sobbed forth the poor creature,
-who was, by this time, far gone in tears.
-
-"Then the long and the short of it is, he shan't have what you call
-yours. Tell me, at once, will you--is it true, that you've promised to
-marry him?"
-
-Anty replied nothing, but continued sobbing violently.
-
-"Cease your nonsense, you blubbering fool! A precious creature you
-are to take on yourself to marry any man! Are you going to answer me,
-Anty?" And he walked away from the fire, and came and stood opposite to
-her as she sat upon the sofa. "Are you going to answer me or not?" he
-continued, stamping on the floor.
-
-"I'll not stop here--and be trated this way--Barry--I'm sure--I do all
-I--I can for you--and you're always--bullying me because father divided
-the property." And Anty continued sobbing more violently than ever. "I
-won't stop in the room any more," and she got up to go to the door.
-
-Barry, however, rushed before her, and prevented her. He turned the
-lock, and put the key in his pocket; and then he caught her arm, as she
-attempted to get to the bell, and dragged her back to the sofa.
-
-"You're not off so easy as that, I can tell you. Why, d' you think
-you're to marry whom you please, without even telling me of it? What
-d'you think the world would say of me, if I were to let such an idiot
-as you be caught up by the first sharper that tried to rob you of your
-money? Now, look here," and he sat down beside her, and laid his hand
-violently on her arm, as he spoke, "you don't go out of this room,
-alive, until you've given me your solemn promise, and sworn on the
-cross, that you'll never marry without my consent; and you'll give me
-that in writing, too."
-
-Anty at first turned very pale when she felt his heavy hand on her arm,
-and saw his red, glaring eyes so near her own. But when he said she
-shouldn't leave the room alive, she jumped from the sofa, and shrieked,
-at the top of her shrill voice,--"Oh, Barry! you'll not murdher me!
-shure you wouldn't murdher your own sisther!"
-
-Barry was rather frightened at the noise, and, moreover, the word
-"murder" quelled him. But when he found, after a moment's pause, that
-the servants had not heard, or had not heeded his sister, he determined
-to carry on his game, now that he had proceeded so far. He took,
-however, a long drink out of his tumbler, to give him fresh courage,
-and then returned to the charge.
-
-"Who talked of murdering you? But, if you bellow in that way, I'll gag
-you. It's a great deal I'm asking, indeed--that, when I'm your only
-guardian, my advice should be asked for before you throw away your
-money on a low ruffian. You're more fit for a mad-house than to be any
-man's wife; and, by Heaven, that's where I'll put you, if you don't
-give me the promise I ask! Will you swear you'll marry no one without
-my leave?"
-
-Poor Anty shook with fear as she sate, with her eyes fixed on her
-brother's face. He was nearly drunk now, and she felt that he was
-so,--and he looked so hot and so fierce--so red and cruel, that she
-was all but paralysed. Nevertheless, she mustered strength to say,
-
-"Let me go, now, Barry, and, to-morrow, I'll tell you
-everything--indeed I will--and I'll thry to do all you'd have me;
-indeed, and indeed, I will! Only do let me go now, for you've frighted
-me."
-
-"You're likely to be more frighted yet, as you call it! And be tramping
-along the roads, I suppose, with Martin Kelly, before the morning. No!
-I'll have an answer from you, any way. I've a right to that!"
-
-"Oh, Barry!--What is it you want?--Pray let me go--pray, pray, for the
-love of the blessed Jesus, let me go."
-
-"I'll tell you where you'll go, and that's into Ballinasloe mad-house!
-Now, mark me--so help me--I'll set off with you this night, and have
-you there in the morning--as an idiot as you are, if you won't make the
-promise I'm telling you!"
-
-By this time Anty's presence of mind had clean left her. Indeed, all
-the faculties of her reason had vanished; and, as she saw her brother's
-scowling face so near her own, and heard him threatening to drag her to
-a mad-house, she put her hands before her eyes, and made one rush to
-escape from him--to the door--to the window--anywhere to get out of his
-reach.
-
-Barry was quite drunk now. Had he not been so, even he would hardly
-have done what he then did. As she endeavoured to rush by him, he
-raised his fist, and struck her on the face, with all his force. The
-blow fell upon her hands, as they were crossed over her face; but the
-force of the blow knocked her down, and she fell upon the floor,
-senseless, striking the back of her head against the table.
-
-"Confound her," muttered the brute, between his teeth, as she fell,
-"for an obstinate, pig-headed fool! What the d----l shall I do now?
-Anty, get up!--get up, will you!--What ails you?"--and then again to
-himself, "the d----l seize her! What am I to do now?" and he succeeded
-in dragging her on to the sofa.
-
-The man-servant and the cook although up to this point, they had
-considered it would be ill manners to interrupt the brother and sister
-in their family interview, were nevertheless at the door; and though
-they could see nothing, and did not succeed in hearing much, were not
-the less fully aware that the conversation was of a somewhat stormy
-nature on the part of the brother. When they heard the noise which
-followed the blow, though not exactly knowing what had happened, they
-became frightened, and began to think something terrible was being
-done.
-
-"Go in, Terry, avich," whispered the woman,--"Knock, man, and go
-in--shure he's murdhering her!"
-
-"What 'ud he do to me thin, av' he'd strick a woman, and she his own
-flesh and blood! He'll not murdher her--but, faix, he's afther doing
-something now! Knock, Biddy, knock, I say, and screech out that you're
-afther wanting Miss Anty."
-
-The woman had more courage than the man--or else more compassion, for,
-without further parleying, she rapped her knuckles loudly against the
-door, and, as she did so, Terry sneaked away to the kitchen.
-
-Barry had just succeeded in raising his sister to the sofa as he heard
-the knock.
-
-"Who's that?" he called out loudly; "what do you want?"
-
-"Plaze yer honer, Miss Anty's wanting in the kitchen."
-
-"She's busy, and can't come at present; she'll be there directly."
-
-"Is she ill at all, Mr. Barry? God bless you, spake, Miss Anty; in
-God's name, spake thin. Ah! Mr. Barry, thin, shure she'd spake av' she
-were able."
-
-"Go away, you fool! Your mistress'll be out in a minute." Then, after a
-moment's consideration, he went and unlocked the door, "or--go in, and
-see what she wants. She's fainted, I think."
-
-Barry Lynch walked out of the room, and into the garden before the
-house, to think over what he had done, and what he'd better do for the
-future, leaving Anty to the care of the frightened woman.
-
-She soon came to herself, and, excepting that her head was bruised
-in the fall, was not much hurt. The blow, falling on her hands, had
-neither cut nor marked her; but she was for a long time so flurried
-that she did not know where she was, and, in answer to all Biddy's
-tender inquiries as to the cause of her fall, and anathemas as to the
-master's bad temper, merely said that "she'd get to bed, for her head
-ached so, she didn't know where she was."
-
-To bed accordingly she went; and glad she was to have escaped alive
-from that drunken face, which had glared on her for the last half hour.
-
-After wandering about round the house and through the grounds, for
-above an hour, Barry returned, half sobered, to the room; but, in his
-present state of mind, he could not go to bed sober. He ordered more
-hot water, and again sat down alone to drink, and drown the remorse he
-was beginning to feel for what he had done--or rather, not remorse, but
-the feeling of fear that every one would know how he had treated Anty,
-and that they would side with her against him. Whichever way he looked,
-all was misery and disappointment to him, and his only hope, for the
-present, was in drink. There he sat, for a long time, with his eyes
-fixed on the turf, till it was all burnt out, trying to get fresh
-courage from the spirits he swallowed, and swearing to himself that he
-would not be beat by a woman.
-
-About one o'clock he seized one of the candles, and staggered up to
-bed. As he passed his sister's door, he opened it and went in. She was
-fast asleep; her shoes were off, and the bed-clothes were thrown over
-her, but she was not undressed. He slowly shut the door, and stood, for
-some moments, looking at her; then, walking to the bed, he took her
-shoulder, and shook it as gently as his drunkenness would let him. This
-did not wake her, so he put the candle down on the table, close beside
-the bed, and, steadying himself against the bedstead, he shook her
-again and again. "Anty", he whispered, "Anty"; and, at last, she opened
-her eyes. Directly she saw his face, she closed them again, and buried
-her own in the clothes; however, he saw that she was awake, and,
-bending his head, he muttered, loud enough for her to hear, but in a
-thick, harsh, hurried, drunken voice, "Anty--d'ye hear? If you marry
-that man, I'll have your life!" and then, leaving the candle behind
-him, he staggered off into his own room in the dark.
-
-
-
-
-VI.  THE ESCAPE
-
-
-In vain, after that, did Anty try to sleep; turn which way she would,
-she saw the bloodshot eyes and horrid drunken face of her cruel
-brother. For a long time she lay, trembling and anxious; fearing she
-knew not what, and trying to compose herself--trying to make herself
-think that she had no present cause for fear; but in vain. If she heard
-a noise, she thought it was her brother's footstep, and when the house
-was perfectly silent and still, she feared the very silence itself. At
-last, she crept out of bed, and, taking the candle left by her brother,
-which had now burned down to the socket, stepped softly down the
-stairs, to the place where the two maid-servants slept, and, having
-awakened them, she made Biddy return with her and keep her company for
-the remainder of the night. She did not quite tell the good-natured
-girl all that had passed; she did not own that her brother had
-threatened to send her to a madhouse, or that he had sworn to have her
-life; but she said enough to show that he had shamefully ill-treated
-her, and to convince Biddy that wherever her mistress might find a
-home, it would be very unadvisable that she and Barry should continue
-to live under the same roof.
-
-Early in the morning, "Long afore the break o' day," as the song says,
-Biddy got up from her hard bed on the floor of her mistress' room, and,
-seeing that Anty was at last asleep, started to carry into immediate
-execution the counsels she had given during the night. As she passed
-the head of the stairs, she heard the loud snore of Barry, in his
-drunken slumber; and, wishing that he might sleep as sound for ever and
-ever, she crept down to her own domicile, and awakened her comrade.
-
-"Whist, Judy--whist, darlint! Up wid ye, and let me out."
-
-"And what'd you be doing out now?" yawned Judy.
-
-"An arrand of the misthress;--shure, he used her disperate. Faix, it's
-a wondher he didn't murther her outright!"
-
-"And where are ye going now?"
-
-"Jist down to Dunmore--to the Kellys then, avich. Asy now; I'll be
-telling you all bye and bye. She must be out of this intirely."
-
-"Is't Miss Anty? Where'd she be going thin out of this?"
-
-"Divil a matther where! He'd murther her, the ruffian 'av he cotched
-her another night in his dhrunkenness. We must git her out before he
-sleeps hisself right. But hurry now, I'll be telling you all when I'm
-back again."
-
-The two crept off to the back door together, and, Judy having opened
-it, Biddy sallied out, on her important and good-natured mission. It
-was still dark, though the morning was beginning to break, as she
-stood, panting, at the front door of the inn. She tried to get in at
-the back, but the yard gates were fastened; and Jack, the ostler, did
-not seem to be about yet. So she gave a timid, modest knock, with the
-iron knocker, on the front door. A pause, and then a second knock, a
-little louder; another pause, and then a third; and then, as no one
-came, she remembered the importance of her message, and gave such a rap
-as a man might do, who badly wanted a glass of hot drink after
-travelling the whole night.
-
-The servants had good or hardy consciences, for they slept soundly; but
-the widow Kelly, in her little bed-room behind the shop, well knew the
-sound of that knocker, and, hurrying on her slippers and her gown, she
-got to the door, and asked who was there.
-
-"Is that Sally, ma'am?" said Biddy, well knowing the widow's voice.
-
-"No, it's not. What is it you're wanting?"
-
-"Is it Kate thin, ma'am?"
-
-"No, it's not Kate. Who are you, I say; and what d'you want?"
-
-"I'm Biddy, plaze ma'am--from Lynch's, and I'm wanting to spake to
-yerself, ma'am--about Miss Anty. She's very bad intirely, ma'am."
-
-"What ails her;--and why d'you come here? Why don't you go to Doctor
-Colligan, av' she's ill; and not come knocking here?"
-
-"It ain't bad that way, Miss Anty is, ma'am. Av' you'd just be good
-enough to open the door, I'd tell you in no time."
-
-It would, I am sure, be doing injustice to Mrs Kelly to say that her
-curiosity was stronger than her charity; they both, however, no doubt
-had their effect, and the door was speedily opened.
-
-"Oh, ma'am!" commenced Biddy, "sich terrible doings up at the house!
-Miss Anty's almost kilt!"
-
-"Come out of the cowld, girl, in to the kitchen fire," said the widow,
-who didn't like the February blast, to which Biddy, in her anxiety, had
-been quite indifferent; and the careful widow again bolted the door,
-and followed the woman into certainly the warmest place in Dunmore, for
-the turf fire in the inn kitchen was burning day and night. "And now,
-tell me what is it ails Miss Anty? She war well enough yesterday, I
-think, and I heard more of her then than I wished."
-
-Biddy now pulled her cloak from off her head, settled it over her
-shoulders, and prepared for telling a good substantial story.
-
-"Oh, Misthress Kelly, ma'am, there's been disperate doings last night
-up at the house. We were all hearing, in the morn yesterday, as how
-Miss Anty and Mr Martin, God bless him!--were to make a match of
-it,--as why wouldn't they, ma'am? for wouldn't Mr Martin make her a
-tidy, dacent, good husband?"
-
-"Well, well, Biddy--don't mind Mr Martin; he'll be betther without a
-wife for one while, and he needn't be quarrelling for one when he wants
-her. What ails Miss Anty?"
-
-"Shure I'm telling you, ma'am; howsomever, whether its thrue or no
-about Mr Martin, we were all hearing it yestherday; and the masther,
-he war afther hearing it too, for he come into his dinner as black as
-tunder; and Terry says he dhrunk the whole of a bottle of wine, and
-then he called for the sperrits, and swilled away at them till he was
-nigh dhrunk. Well, wid that, ma'am, he sent for Miss Anty, and the
-moment she comes in, he locks to the door, and pulls her to the sofa,
-and swears outright that he'll murdher her av' she don't swear, by the
-blessed Mary and the cross, that she'll niver dhrame of marrying no
-one."
-
-"Who tould you all this, Biddy? was it herself?"
-
-"Why, thin, partly herself it war who tould me, ma'am, and partly--;
-you see, when Mr Barry war in his tantrums and dhrunken like, I didn't
-like to be laving Miss Anty alone wid him, and nobody nigh, so I and
-Terry betook ourselves nigh the door, and, partly heard what was
-going on; that's the thruth on it, Mrs Kelly; and, afther a dale of
-rampaging and scolding, may I niver see glory av' he didn't up wid his
-clenched fist, strik her in the face, and knock her down--all for one
-as 'av she wor a dhrunken blackguard at a fair!"
-
-"You didn't see that, Biddy?"
-
-"No, ma'am--I didn't see it; how could I, through the door?--but I
-heerd it, plain enough. I heerd the poor cratur fall for dead amongst
-the tables and chairs--I did, Mrs Kelly--and I heerd the big blow smash
-agin her poor head, and down she wint--why wouldn't she? and he, the
-born ruffian, her own brother, the big blackguard, stricking at her wid
-all his force! Well, wid that ma'am, I rushed into the room--at laist,
-I didn't rush in--for how could I, and the door locked?--but I knocked
-agin and agin, for I war afeard he would be murthering her out and out.
-So, I calls out, as loud as I could, as how Miss Anty war wanting in
-the kitchen: and wid that he come to the door, and unlocks it as bould
-as brass, and rushes out into the garden, saying as how Miss Anty war
-afther fainting. Well, in course I goes in to her, where he had dragged
-her upon the sofa, and, thrue enough, she war faint indeed."
-
-"And, did she tell you, Biddy, that her own brother had trated her that
-way?"
-
-"Wait, Mrs Kelly, ma'am, till I tell yer how it all happened. When she
-comed to herself--and she warn't long coming round--she didn't say
-much, nor did I; for I didn't just like then to be saying much agin the
-masther, for who could know where his ears were?--perish his sowl, the
-blackguard!"
-
-"Don't be cursing, Biddy."
-
-"No, ma'am; only he must be cursed, sooner or later. Well, when she
-comed to herself, she begged av' me to help her to bed, and she went up
-to her room, and laid herself down, and I thought to myself that at any
-rate it was all over for that night. When she war gone, the masther
-he soon come back into the house, and begun calling for the sperrits
-again, like mad; and Terry said that when he tuk the biling wather into
-the room, Mr Barry war just like the divil--as he's painted, only for
-his ears. After that Terry wint to bed; and I and Judy weren't long
-afther him, for we didn't care to be sitting up alone wid him, and he
-mad dhrunk. So we turned in, and we were in bed maybe two hours or so,
-and fast enough, when down come the misthress--as pale as a sheet, wid
-a candle in her hand, and begged me, for dear life, to come up into her
-room to her, and so I did, in coorse. And then she tould me all--and,
-not contint with what he'd done down stairs, but the dhrunken ruffian
-must come up into her bed-room and swear the most dreadfullest things
-to her you iver heerd, Mrs Kelly. The words he war afther using, and
-the things he said, war most horrid; and Miss Anty wouldn't for her
-dear life, nor for all the money in Dunmore, stop another night, nor
-another day in the house wid him."
-
-"But, is she much hurt, Biddy?"
-
-"Oh! her head's cut, dreadful, where she fell, ma'am: and he shuck the
-very life out of her poor carcase; so he did, Mrs Kelly, the ruffian!"
-
-"Don't be cursing, I tell you, girl. And what is it your misthress is
-wishing to do now? Did she tell you to come to me?"
-
-"No, ma'am; she didn't exactly tell me--only as she war saying that she
-wouldn't for anything be staying in the house with Mr Barry; and as she
-didn't seem to be knowing where she'd be going, and av' she be raally
-going to be married to Mr Martin--"
-
-"Drat Mr Martin, you fool! Did she tell you she wanted to come here?".
-
-"She didn't quite say as much as that. To tell the thruth, thin, it wor
-I that said it, and she didn't unsay it; so, wid that, I thought I'd
-come down here the first thing, and av' you, Mrs Kelly, wor thinking it
-right, we'd get her out of the house before the masther's stirring."
-
-The widow was a prudent woman, and she stood, for some time,
-considering; for she felt that, if she held out her hand to Anty now,
-she must stick to her through and through in the battle which there
-would be between her and her brother; and there might be more plague
-than profit in that. But then, again, she was not at all so indifferent
-as she had appeared to be, to her favourite son's marrying four
-hundred a-year. She was angry at his thinking of such a thing without
-consulting her; she feared the legal difficulties he must encounter;
-and she didn't like the thoughts of its being said that her son had
-married an old fool, and cozened her out of her money. But still,
-four hundred a-year was a great thing; and Anty was a good-tempered
-tractable young woman, of the right religion, and would not make a bad
-wife; and, on reconsideration, Mrs Kelly thought the thing wasn't to be
-sneezed at. Then, again, she hated Barry, and, having a high spirit,
-felt indignant that he should think of preventing her son from marrying
-his sister, if the two of them chose to do it; and she knew she'd be
-able, and willing enough, too, to tell him a bit of her mind, if there
-should be occasion. And lastly, and most powerfully of all, the woman's
-feeling came in to overcome her prudential scruples, and to open her
-heart and her house to a poor, kindly, innocent creature, ill-treated
-as Anty Lynch had been. She was making up her mind what to do, and
-determining to give battle royal to Barry and all his satellites, on
-behalf of Anty, when Biddy interrupted her by saying,--
-
-"I hope I warn't wrong, ma'am, in coming down and throubling you so
-arly? I thought maybe you'd be glad to befrind Miss Anty--seeing she
-and Miss Meg, and Miss Jane, is so frindly."
-
-"No, Biddy;--for a wondher, you're right, this morning. Mr Barry won't
-be stirring yet?"
-
-"Divil a stir, ma'am! The dhrunkenness won't be off him yet this long
-while. And will I go up, and be bringing Miss Anty down, ma'am?"
-
-"Wait a while. Sit to the fire there, and warm your shins. You're a
-good girl. I'll go and get on my shoes and stockings, and my cloak, and
-bonnet. I must go up wid you myself, and ask yer misthress down, as she
-should be asked. They'll be telling lies on her 'av she don't lave the
-house dacently, as she ought."
-
-"More power to you thin, Mrs Kelly, this blessed morning, for a kind
-good woman as you are, God bless you!" whimpered forth Biddy, who, now
-that she had obtained her request, began to cry, and to stuff the
-corner of her petticoat into her eyes.
-
-"Whist, you fool--whist," said the widow. "Go and get up Sally--you
-know where she sleeps--and tell her to put down a fire in the little
-parlour upstairs, and to get a cup of tay ready, and to have Miss Meg
-up. Your misthress'll be the better of a quiet sleep afther the night
-she's had, and it'll be betther for her jist popping into Miss Meg's
-bed than getting between a pair of cowld sheets."
-
-These preparations met with Biddy's entire approval, for she reiterated
-her blessings on the widow, as she went to announce all the news to
-Sally and Kate, while Mrs Kelly made such preparations as were fitting
-for a walk, at that early hour, up to Dunmore House.
-
-They were not long before they were under weigh, but they did not reach
-the house quite so quickly as Biddy had left it. Mrs Kelly had to pick
-her way in the half light, and observed that "she'd never been up to
-the house since old Simeon Lynch built it, and when the stones were
-laying for it, she didn't think she ever would; but one never knowed
-what changes might happen in this world."
-
-They were soon in the house, for Judy was up to let them in; and though
-she stared when she saw Mrs Kelly, she merely curtsied, and said
-nothing.
-
-The girl went upstairs first, with the candle, and Mrs Kelly followed,
-very gently, on tiptoe. She need not have been so careful to avoid
-waking Barry, for, had a drove of oxen been driven upstairs, it would
-not have roused him. However, up she crept,--her thick shoes creaking
-on every stair,--and stood outside the door, while Biddy went in to
-break the news of her arrival.
-
-Anty was still asleep, but it did not take much to rouse her; and she
-trembled in her bed, when, on her asking what was the matter, Mrs Kelly
-popped her bonnet inside the door, and said,
-
-"It's only me, my dear. Mrs Kelly, you know, from the inn," and then
-she very cautiously insinuated the rest of her body into the room, as
-though she thought that Barry was asleep under the bed, and she was
-afraid of treading on one of his stray fingers. "It's only me, my
-dear. Biddy's been down to me, like a good girl; and I tell you
-what--this is no place for you, just at present, Miss Anty; not till
-such time as things is settled a little. So I'm thinking you'd betther
-be slipping down wid me to the inn there, before your brother's up.
-There's nobody in it, not a sowl, only Meg, and Jane, and me, and
-we'll make you snug enough between us, never fear."
-
-"Do, Miss Anty, dear do, darling," added Biddy. "It'll be a dale
-betther for you than waiting here to be batthered and bruised, and,
-perhaps, murthered out and out."
-
-"Hush, Biddy--don't be saying such things," said the widow, who had a
-great idea of carrying on the war on her own premises, but who felt
-seriously afraid of Barry now that she was in his house, "don't be
-saying such things, to frighthen her. But you'll be asier there than
-here," she continued, to Anty; "and there's nothin like having things
-asy. So, get up alanna [12], and we'll have you warm and snug down there in
-no time."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 12: alanna--my child]
-
-Anty did not want much persuading. She was soon induced to get up and
-dress herself, to put on her cloak and bonnet, and hurry off with the
-widow, before the people of Dunmore should be up to look at her going
-through the town to the inn; while Biddy was left to pack up such
-things as were necessary for her mistress' use, and enjoined to hurry
-down with them to the inn as quick as she could; for, as the widow
-said, "there war no use in letting every idle bosthoon [13] in the
-place see her crossing with a lot of baggage, and set them all asking
-the where and the why and the wherefore; though, for the matther of
-that, they'd all hear it soon enough."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 13: bosthoon--a worthless fellow]
-
-To tell the truth, Mrs Kelly's courage waned from the moment of her
-leaving her own door, and it did not return till she felt herself
-within it again. Indeed, as she was leaving the gate of Dunmore House,
-with Anty on her arm, she was already beginning to repent what she was
-doing; for there were idlers about, and she felt ashamed of carrying
-off the young heiress. But these feelings vanished the moment she had
-crossed her own sill. When she had once got Anty home, it was all
-right. The widow Kelly seldom went out into the world; she seldom went
-anywhere except to mass; and, when out, she was a very modest and
-retiring old lady; but she could face the devil, if necessary, across
-her own counter.
-
-And so Anty was rescued, for a while, from her brother's persecution.
-This happened on the morning on which Martin and Lord Ballindine met
-together at the lawyer's, when the deeds were prepared which young
-Kelly's genuine honesty made him think necessary before he eloped with
-old Sim Lynch's heiress. He would have been rather surprised to hear,
-at that moment, that his mother had been before him, and carried off
-his bride elect to the inn!
-
-Anty was soon domesticated. The widow, very properly, wouldn't let her
-friends, Meg and Jane, ask her any questions at present. Sally had
-made, on the occasion, a pot of tea sufficient to supply the morning
-wants of half a regiment, and had fully determined that it should not
-be wasted. The Kelly girls were both up, and ready to do anything for
-their friend; so they got her to take a little of Sally's specific, and
-put her into a warm bed to sleep, quiet and secure from any
-interruption.
-
-While her guest was sleeping, the widow made up her mind that her best
-and safest course, for the present, would be, as she expressed it to
-her daughter, Meg, "to keep her toe in her pump, and say nothing to
-nobody."
-
-"Anty can just stay quiet and asy," she continued, "till we see what
-Master Barry manes to be afther; he'll find it difficult enough to move
-her out of this, I'm thinking, and I doubt his trying. As to money
-matthers, I'll neither meddle nor make, nor will you, mind; so listen
-to that, girls; and as to Moylan, he's a dacent quiet poor man--but
-it's bad thrusting any one. Av' he's her agent, however, I s'pose he'll
-look afther the estate; only, Barry'll be smashing the things up there
-at the house yonder in his anger and dhrunken fits, and it's a pity
-the poor girl's property should go to rack. But he's such a born
-divil, she's lucky to be out of his clutches alive; though, thank the
-Almighty, that put a good roof over the lone widow this day, he can't
-clutch her here. Wouldn't I like to see him come to the door and ax for
-her! And he can't smash the acres, nor the money they say Mulholland
-has, at Tuam; and faix, av' he does any harm up there at the house,
-shure enough Anty can make him pay for--it every pot and pan of it--out
-of his share, and she'll do it, too--av' she's said by me. But mind,
-I'll neither meddle nor make; neither do you, and then we're safe, and
-Anty too. And Martin'll be here soon--I wondher what good Dublin'll
-do him?--They might have the Repale without him, I suppose?--And when
-he's here, why, av' he's minded to marry her, and she's plased, why,
-Father Geoghegan may come down, and do it before the whole counthry,
-and who's ashamed? But there'll be no huggery-muggery, and schaming;
-that is, av' they're said by me. Faix, I'd like to know who she's to
-be afeared of, and she undher this roof! I s'pose Martin ain't fool
-enough to care for what such a fellow as Barry Lynch can do or say--and
-he with all the Kellys to back him; as shure they would, and why not,
-from the lord down? Not that I recommend the match; I think Martin a
-dale betther off as he is, for he's wanting nothing, and he's his own
-industhry--and, maybe, a handful of money besides. But, as for being
-afeard--I niver heard yet that a Kelly need be afeard of a Lynch in
-Dunmore."
-
-In this manner did Mrs Kelly express the various thoughts that ran
-through her head, as she considered Anty's affairs; and if we could
-analyse the good lady's mind, we should probably find that the result
-of her reflections was a pleasing assurance that she could exercise
-the Christian virtues of charity and hospitality towards Anty, and, at
-the same time, secure her son's wishes and welfare, without subjecting
-her own name to any obloquy, or putting herself to any loss or
-inconvenience. She determined to put no questions to Anty, nor even to
-allude to her brother, unless spoken to on the subject; but, at the
-same time, she stoutly resolved to come to no terms with Barry, and
-to defy him to the utmost, should he attempt to invade her in her own
-territories.
-
-After a sound sleep Anty got up, much strengthened and refreshed, and
-found the two Kelly girls ready to condole with, or congratulate her,
-according to her mood and spirits. In spite of their mother's caution,
-they were quite prepared for gossiping, as soon as Anty showed the
-slightest inclination that way; and, though she at first was afraid to
-talk about her brother, and was even, from kindly feeling, unwilling
-to do so, the luxury of such an opportunity of unrestrained confidence
-overcame her; and, before the three had been sitting together for a
-couple of hours, she had described the whole interview, as well as the
-last drunken midnight visit of Barry's to her own bed-room, which, to
-her imagination, was the most horrible of all the horrors of the night.
-
-Poor Anty. She cried vehemently that morning--more in sorrow for her
-brother, than in remembrance of her own fears, as she told her friends
-how he had threatened to shut her up in a mad-house, and then to murder
-her, unless she promised him not to marry; and when she described how
-brutally he had struck her, and how, afterwards, he had crept to her
-room, with his red eyes and swollen face, in the dead of the night,
-and, placing his hot mouth close to her ears, had dreadfully sworn that
-she should die, if she thought of Martin Kelly as her husband, she
-trembled as though she was in an ague fit.
-
-The girls said all they could to comfort her, and they succeeded in
-a great degree; but they could not bring her to talk of Martin. She
-shuddered whenever his name was mentioned, and they began to fear
-that Barry's threat would have the intended effect, and frighten her
-from the match. However, they kindly talked of other things--of how
-impossible it was that she should go back to Dunmore House, and how
-comfortable and snug they would make her at the inn, till she got
-a home for herself; of what she should do, and of all their little
-household plans together; till Anty, when she could forget her
-brother's threats for a time, seemed to be more comfortable and happy
-than she had been for years.
-
-In vain did the widow that morning repeatedly invoke Meg and Jane,
-first one and then the other, to assist in her commercial labours. In
-vain were Sally and Kate commissioned to bring them down. If, on some
-urgent behest, one of them darted down to mix a dandy of punch, or
-weigh a pound of sugar, when the widow was imperatively employed
-elsewhere, she was upstairs again, before her mother could look about
-her; and, at last, Mrs Kelly was obliged to content herself with the
-reflection that girls would be girls, and that it was "nathural and
-right they shouldn't wish to lave Anty alone the first morning, and she
-sthrange to the place."
-
-At five o'clock, the widow, as was her custom, went up to her dinner;
-and Meg was then obliged to come down and mind the shop, till her
-sister, having dined, should come down and relieve guard. She had only
-just ensconced herself behind the counter, when who should walk into
-the shop but Barry Lynch.
-
-Had Meg seen an ogre, or the enemy of all mankind himself, she could
-not, at the moment, have been more frightened; and she stood staring at
-him, as if the sudden loss of the power of motion alone prevented her
-from running away.
-
-"I want to see Mrs Kelly," said Barry; "d'ye hear? I want to see your
-mother; go and tell her."
-
-But we must go back, and see how Mr Lynch had managed to get up, and
-pass his morning.
-
-
-
-
-VII.  MR BARRY LYNCH MAKES A MORNING CALL
-
-
-It was noon before Barry first opened his eyes, and discovered the
-reality of the headache which the night's miserable and solitary
-debauch had entailed on him. For, in spite of the oft-repeated
-assurance that there is not a headache in a hogshead of it, whiskey
-punch will sicken one, as well as more expensive and more fashionable
-potent drinks. Barry was very sick when he first awoke; and very
-miserable, too; for vague recollections of what he had done, and
-doubtful fears of what he might have done, crowded on him. A drunken
-man always feels more anxiety about what he has not done in his
-drunkenness, than about what he has; and so it was with Barry. He
-remembered having used rough language with his sister, but he could not
-remember how far he had gone. He remembered striking her, and he knew
-that the servant had come in; but he could not remember how, or with
-what he had struck her, or whether he had done so more than once, or
-whether she had been much hurt. He could not even think whether he had
-seen her since or not; he remembered being in the garden after she had
-fallen, and drinking again after that, but nothing further. Surely, he
-could not have killed her? he could not even have hurt her very much,
-or he would have heard of it before this. If anything serious had
-happened, the servants would have taken care that he should have heard
-enough about it ere now. Then he began to think what o'clock it could
-be, and that it must be late, for his watch was run down; the general
-fate of drunkards, who are doomed to utter ignorance of the hour at
-which they wake to the consciousness of their miserable disgrace. He
-feared to ring the bell for the servant; he was afraid to ask the
-particulars of last night's work; so he turned on his pillow, and tried
-to sleep again. But in vain. If he closed his eyes, Anty was before
-them, and he was dreaming, half awake, that he was trying to stifle
-her, and that she was escaping, to tell all the world of his brutality
-and cruelty. This happened over and over again; for when he dozed but
-for a minute, the same thing re-occurred, as vividly as before, and
-made even his waking consciousness preferable to the visions of his
-disturbed slumbers. So, at last, he roused himself, and endeavoured to
-think what he should do.
-
-Whilst he was sitting up in his bed, and reflecting that he must
-undress himself before he could dress himself--for he had tumbled into
-bed with most of his clothes on--Terry's red head appeared at the door,
-showing an anxiety, on the part of its owner, to see if "the masther"
-was awake, but to take no step to bring about such a state, if,
-luckily, he still slept.
-
-"What's the time, Terry?" said Lynch, frightened, by his own state,
-into rather more courtesy than he usually displayed to those dependent
-on him.
-
-"Well then, I b'lieve it's past one, yer honer."
-
-"The d----l it is! I've such a headache. I was screwed last night; eh,
-Terry?"
-
-"I b'lieve yer war, yer honer."
-
-"What o'clock was it when I went to bed?"
-
-"Well then, I don't rightly know, Mr Barry; it wasn't only about ten
-when I tuk in the last hot wather, and I didn't see yer honer afther
-that."
-
-"Well; tell Miss Anty to make me a cup of tea, and do you bring it up
-here." This was a feeler. If anything was the matter with Anty, Terry
-would be sure to tell him now; but he only said, "Yis, yer honer," and
-retreated.
-
-Barry now comforted himself with the reflection that there was no great
-harm done, and that though, certainly, there had been some row between
-him and Anty, it would probably blow over; and then, also, he began to
-reflect that, perhaps, what he had said and done, would frighten her
-out of her match with Kelly.
-
-In the meantime. Terry went into the kitchen, with the news that
-"masther was awake, and axing for tay." Biddy had considered herself
-entitled to remain all the morning at the inn, having, in a manner,
-earned a right to be idle for that day, by her activity during the
-night; and the other girl had endeavoured to enjoy the same luxury, for
-she had been found once or twice during the morning, ensconced in the
-kitchen, under Sally's wing; but Mrs Kelly had hunted her back, to go
-and wait on her master, giving her to understand that she would not
-receive the whole household.
-
-"And ye're afther telling him where Miss Anty's gone, Terry?" inquired
-the injured fair one.
-
-"Divil a tell for me thin,--shure, he may find it out hisself, widout
-my telling him."
-
-"Faix, it's he'll be mad thin, when he finds she's taken up with the
-likes of the widdy Kelly!"
-
-"And ain't she betther there, nor being murthered up here? He'd be
-killing her out and out some night."
-
-"Well, but Terry, he's not so bad as all that; there's worse than him,
-and ain't it rasonable he shouldn't be quiet and asy, and she taking up
-with the likes of Martin Kelly?"
-
-"May be so; but wouldn't she be a dale happier with Martin than up here
-wid him? Any ways it don't do angering him, so, get him the tay, Judy."
-
-It was soon found that this was easier said than done, for Anty, in her
-confusion, had taken away the keys in her pocket, and there was no tea
-to be had.
-
-The bell was now rung, and, as Barry had gradually re-assured himself,
-rung violently; and Terry, when he arrived distracted at the bed-room
-door, was angrily asked by his thirsty master why the tea didn't
-appear? The truth was now obliged to come out, or at any rate, part of
-it: so Terry answered, that Miss Anty was out, and had the keys with
-her.
-
-Miss Anty was so rarely out, that Barry instantly trembled again. Had
-she gone to a magistrate, to swear against him? Had she run away from
-him? Had she gone off with Martin?
-
-"Where the d----l's she gone, Terry?" said he, in his extremity.
-
-"Faix, yer honour, thin, I'm not rightly knowing; but I hear tell she's
-down at the widow Kelly's."
-
-"Who told you, you fool?"
-
-"Well thin, yer honer, it war Judy."
-
-"And where's Judy?"
-
-And it ended in Judy's being produced, and the two of them, at length,
-explained to their master, that the widow had come up early in the
-morning and fetched her away; and Judy swore "that not a know she
-knowed how it had come about, or what had induced the widow to come, or
-Miss Anty to go, or anything about it; only, for shure, Miss Anty was
-down there, snug enough, with Miss Jane and Miss Meg; and the widdy
-war in her tantrums, and wouldn't let ony dacent person inside the
-house-door--barring Biddy. And that wor all she knowed av' she wor on
-the book."
-
-The secret was now out. Anty had left him, and put herself under the
-protection of Martin Kelly's mother; had absolutely defied him, after
-all his threats of the preceding night. What should he do now! All his
-hatred for her returned again, all his anxious wishes that she might be
-somehow removed from his path, as an obnoxious stumbling-block. A few
-minutes ago, he was afraid he had murdered her, and he now almost
-wished that he had done so. He finished dressing himself, and then
-sat down in the parlour, which had been the scene of his last night's
-brutality, to concoct fresh schemes for the persecution of his sister.
-
-In the meantime, Terry rushed down to the inn, demanding the keys, and
-giving Mrs Kelly a fearful history of his master's anger. This she very
-wisely refrained from retailing, but, having procured the keys, gave
-them to the messenger, merely informing him, that "thanks to God's kind
-protection, Miss Anty was tolerably well over the last night's work,
-and he might tell his master so."
-
-This message Terry thought it wisest to suppress, so he took the
-breakfast up in silence, and his master asked no more questions. He
-was very sick and pale, and could eat nothing; but he drank a quantity
-of tea, and a couple of glasses of brandy-and-water, and then he
-felt better, and again began to think what measures he should take,
-what scheme he could concoct, for stopping this horrid marriage, and
-making his sister obedient to his wishes. "Confound her," he said,
-almost aloud, as he thought, with bitter vexation of spirit, of her
-unincumbered moiety of the property, "confound them all!" grinding his
-teeth, and meaning by the "all" to include with Anty his father, and
-every one who might have assisted his father in making the odious will,
-as well as his own attorney in Tuam, who wouldn't find out some legal
-expedient by which he could set it aside. And then, as he thought of
-the shameful persecution of which he was the victim, he kicked the
-fender with impotent violence, and, as the noise of the falling fire
-irons added to his passion, he reiterated his kicks till the
-unoffending piece of furniture was smashed; and then with manly
-indignation he turned away to the window.
-
-But breaking the furniture, though it was what the widow predicted of
-him, wouldn't in any way mend matters, or assist him in getting out of
-his difficulties. What was he to do? He couldn't live on L200 a-year;
-he couldn't remain in Dunmore, to be known by every one as Martin
-Kelly's brother-in-law; he couldn't endure the thoughts of dividing the
-property with such "a low-born huxtering blackguard", as he called him
-over and over again. He couldn't stay there, to be beaten by him in the
-course of legal proceedings, or to give him up amicable possession of
-what ought to have been--what should have been his--what he looked
-upon as his own. He came back, and sat down again over the fire,
-contemplating the debris of the fender, and turning all these miserable
-circumstances over in his mind. After remaining there till five
-o'clock, and having fortified himself with sundry glasses of wine, he
-formed his resolution. He would make one struggle more; he would first
-go down to the widow, and claim his sister, as a poor simple young
-woman, inveigled away from her natural guardian; and, if this were
-unsuccessful, as he felt pretty sure it would be, he would take
-proceedings to prove her a lunatic. If he failed, he might still delay,
-and finally put off the marriage; and he was sure he could get some
-attorney to put him in the way of doing it, and to undertake the work
-for him. His late father's attorney had been a fool, in not breaking
-the will, or at any rate trying it, and he would go to Daly. Young
-Daly, he knew, was a sharp fellow, and wanted practice, and this would
-just suit him. And then, if at last he found that nothing could be done
-by this means, if his sister and the property _must_ go from him, he
-would compromise the matter with the bridegroom, he would meet him half
-way, and, raising what money he could on his share of the estate, give
-leg bail to his creditors, and go to some place abroad, where tidings
-of Dunmore would never reach him. What did it matter what people said?
-he should never hear it. He would make over the whole property to
-Kelly, on getting a good life income out of it. Martin was a prudent
-fellow, and would jump at such a plan. As he thought of this, he
-even began to wish that it was done; he pictured to himself the easy
-pleasures, the card-tables, the billiard-rooms, and cafes of some
-Calais or Boulogne; pleasures which he had never known, but which had
-been so glowingly described to him; and he got almost cheerful again as
-he felt that, in any way, there might be bright days yet in store for
-him.
-
-He would, however, still make the last effort for the whole stake. It
-would be time enough to give in, and make the best of a _pis aller_
-[14], when he was forced to do so. If beaten, he would make use of
-Martin Kelly; but he would first try if he couldn't prove him to be a
-swindling adventurer, and his sister to be an idiot.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 14: pis aller--(French) last resort]
-
-Much satisfied at having come to this salutary resolution, he took up
-his hat, and set out for the widow's, in order to put into operation
-the first part of the scheme. He rather wished it over, as he knew that
-Mrs Kelly was no coward, and had a strong tongue in her head. However,
-it must be done, and the sooner the better. He first of all looked
-at himself in his glass, to see that his appearance was sufficiently
-haughty and indignant, and, as he flattered himself, like that of a
-gentleman singularly out of his element in such a village as Dunmore;
-and then, having ordered his dinner to be ready on his return, he
-proceeded on his voyage for the recovery of his dear sister.
-
-Entering the shop, he communicated his wishes to Meg, in the manner
-before described; and, while she was gone on her errand, he remained
-alone there, lashing his boot, in the most approved, but, still, in a
-very common-place manner.
-
-"Oh, mother!" said Meg, rushing into the room where her mother, and
-Jane, and Anty, were at dinner, "there's Barry Lynch down in the shop,
-wanting you."
-
-"Oh my!" said Jane. "Now sit still, Anty dear, and he can't come near
-you. Shure, he'll niver be afther coming upstairs, will he, Meg?"
-
-Anty, who had begun to feel quite happy in her new quarters, and among
-her kind friends, turned pale, and dropped her knife and fork. "What'll
-I do, Mrs Kelly?" she said, as she saw the old lady complacently get
-up. "You're not going to give me up? You'll not go to him?"
-
-"Faith I will thin, my dear," replied the widow; "never fear else--I'll
-go to him, or any one else that sends to me in a dacent manner. May-be
-it's wanting tay in the shop he is. I'll go to him immediately. But,
-as for giving you up, I mane you to stay here, till you've a proper
-home of your own; and Barry Lynch has more in him than I think, av' he
-makes me alter my mind. Set down quiet, Meg, and get your dinner." And
-the widow got up, and proceeded to the shop.
-
-The girls were all in commotion. One went to the door at the top of the
-stairs, to overhear as much as possible of what was to take place; and
-the other clasped Anty's hand, to re-assure her, having first thrown
-open the door of one of the bed-rooms, that she might have a place of
-retreat in the event of the enemy succeeding in pushing his way
-upstairs.
-
-"Your humble sarvant, Mr Lynch," said the widow, entering the shop and
-immediately taking up a position of strength in her accustomed place
-behind the counter. "Were you wanting me, this evening?" and she
-took up the knife with which she cut penn'orths of tobacco for her
-customers, and hitting the counter with its wooden handle looked as
-hard as copper, and as bold as brass.
-
-"Yes, Mrs Kelly," said Barry, with as much dignity as he could muster,
-"I do want to speak to you. My sister has foolishly left her home this
-morning, and my servants tell me she is under your roof. Is this true?"
-
-"Is it Anty? Indeed she is thin: ating her dinner, upstairs, this very
-moment;" and she rapped the counter again, and looked her foe in the
-face.
-
-"Then, with your leave, Mrs Kelly, I'll step up, and speak to her. I
-suppose she's alone?"
-
-"Indeed she ain't thin, for she's the two girls ating wid her, and
-myself too, barring that I'm just come down at your bidding. No; we're
-not so bad as that, to lave her all alone; and as for your seeing her,
-Mr Lynch, I don't think she's exactly wishing it at present; so, av'
-you've a message, I'll take it."
-
-"You don't mean to say that Miss Lynch--my sister--is in this inn, and
-that you intend to prevent my seeing her? You'd better take care what
-you're doing, Mrs Kelly. I don't want to say anything harsh at present,
-but you'd better take care what you're about with me and my family, or
-you'll find yourself in a scrape that you little bargain for."
-
-"I'll take care of myself, Mr Barry; never fear for me, darling; and,
-what's more, I'll take care of your sister, too. And, to give you a
-bit of my mind--she'll want my care, I'm thinking, while you're in the
-counthry."
-
-"I've not come here to listen to impertinence, Mrs Kelly, and I will
-not do so. In fact, it is very unwillingly that I came into this house
-at all."
-
-"Oh, pray lave it thin, pray lave it! We can do without you."
-
-"Perhaps you will have the civility to listen to me. It is very
-unwillingly, I say, that I have come here at all; but my sister, who
-is, unfortunately, not able to judge for herself, is here. How she came
-here I don't pretend to say--"
-
-"Oh, she walked," said the widow, interrupting him; "she walked, quiet
-and asy, out of your door, and into mine. But that's a lie, for it was
-out of her own. She didn't come through the kay-hole, nor yet out of
-the window."
-
-"I'm saying nothing about how she came here, but here she is, poor
-creature!"
-
-"Poor crature, indeed! She was like to be a poor crature, av' she
-stayed up there much longer."
-
-"Here she is, I say, and I consider it my duty to look after her. You
-cannot but be aware, Mrs Kelly, that this is not a fit place for Miss
-Lynch. You must be aware that a road-side public-house, however decent,
-or a village shop, however respectable, is not the proper place for my
-sister; and, though I may not yet be legally her guardian, I am her
-brother, and am in charge of her property, and I insist on seeing her.
-It will be at your peril if you prevent me."
-
-"Have you done, now, Misther Barry?"
-
-"That's what I've got to say; and I think you've sense enough to see
-the folly--not to speak of the danger, of preventing me from seeing my
-sister."
-
-"That's your say, Misther Lynch; and now, listen to mine. Av' Miss
-Anty was wishing to see you, you'd be welcome upstairs, for her sake;
-but she ain't, so there's an end of that; for not a foot will you put
-inside this, unless you're intending to force your way, and I don't
-think you'll be for trying that. And as to bearing the danger, why,
-I'll do my best; and, for all the harm you're likely to do me--that's
-by fair manes,--I don't think I'll be axing any one to help me out of
-it. So, good bye t' ye, av' you've no further commands, for I didn't
-yet well finish the bit I was ating."
-
-"And you mean to say, Mrs Kelly, you'll take upon yourself to prevent
-my seeing my sister?"
-
-"Indeed I do; unless she was wishing it, as well as yourself; and no
-mistake."
-
-"And you'll do that, knowing, as you do, that the unfortunate young
-woman is of weak mind, and unable to judge for herself, and that I'm
-her brother, and her only living relative and guardian?"
-
-"All blathershin, Masther Barry," said the uncourteous widow, dropping
-the knife from her hand, and smacking her fingers: "as for wake mind,
-it's sthrong enough to take good care of herself and her money too,
-now she's once out of Dunmore House. There many waker than Anty Lynch,
-though few have had worse tratement to make them so. As for guardian,
-I'm thinking it's long since she was of age, and, av' her father
-didn't think she wanted one, when he made his will, you needn't bother
-yourself about it, now she's no one to plaze only herself. And as for
-brother, Masther Barry, why didn't you think of that before you struck
-her, like a brute, as you are--before you got dhrunk, like a baste, and
-then threatened to murdher her? Why didn't you think about brother and
-sisther before you thried to rob the poor _wake_ crature, as you call
-her; and when you found she wasn't quite wake enough, as you call it,
-swore to have her life, av' she wouldn't act at your bidding? That's
-being a brother and a guardian, is it, Masther Barry? Talk to me of
-danger, you ruffian," continued the widow, with her back now thoroughly
-up; "you'd betther look to yourself, or I know who'll be in most
-danger. Av' it wasn't the throuble it'd be to Anty,--and, God knows,
-she's had throubles enough, I'd have had her before the magisthrates
-before this, to tell of what was done last night up at the house,
-yonder. But mind, she can do it yet, and, av' you don't take yourself
-very asy, she shall. Danger, indeed! a robber and ruffian like you, to
-talk of danger to me--and his _dear_ sisther, too, and aftimer trying
-his best, last night, to murdher her!"
-
-These last words, with a long drawl on the word _dear_, were addressed
-rather to the crowd, whom the widow's loud voice had attracted into the
-open shop, than to Barry, who stood, during this tirade, half stupefied
-with rage, and half frightened, at the open attack made on him with
-reference to his ill-treatment of Anty. However, he couldn't pull in
-his horns now, and he was obliged, in self-defence, to brazen it out.
-
-"Very well, Mrs Kelly--you shall pay for this impudence, and that
-dearly. You've invented these lies, as a pretext for getting my sister
-and her property into your hands!"
-
-"Lies!" screamed the widow; "av' you say lies to me agin, in this
-house, I'll smash the bones of ye myself, with the broom-handle.
-Lies, indeed! and from you, Barry Lynch, the biggest liar in all
-Connaught--not to talk of robber and ruffian! You'd betther take
-yourself out of that, fair and asy, while you're let. You'll find
-you'll have the worst of it, av' you come rampaging here wid me, my
-man;" and she turned round to the listening crowd for sympathy, which
-those who dared were not slow in giving her.
-
-"And that's thrue for you, Mrs Kelly, Ma'am," exclaimed one.
-
-"It's a shame for him to come storming here, agin a lone widdy, so it
-is," said a virago, who seemed well able, like the widow herself, to
-take her own part.
-
-"Who iver knew any good of a Lynch--barring Miss Anty herself?" argued
-a third.
-
-"The Kellys is always too good for the likes of them," put in a fourth,
-presuming that the intended marriage was the subject immediately in
-discourse.
-
-"Faix, Mr Martin's too good for the best of 'em," declared another.
-
-"Niver mind Mr Martin, boys," said the widow, who wasn't well pleased
-to have her son's name mentioned in the affair--"it's no business of
-his, one way or another; he ain't in Dunmore, nor yet nigh it. Miss
-Anty Lynch has come to me for protection; and, by the Blessed Virgin,
-she shall have it, as long as my name's Mary Kelly, and I ain't like
-to change it; so that's the long and short of it, Barry Lynch. So you
-may go and get dhrunk agin as soon as you plaze, and bate and bang
-Terry Rooney, or Judy Smith; only I think either on 'em's more than
-a match for you."
-
-"Then I tell you, Mrs Kelly," replied Barry, who was hardly able to
-get in a word, "that you'll hear more about it. Steps are now being
-taken to prove Miss Lynch a lunatic, as every one here knows she
-unfortunately is; and, as sure as you stand there, you'll have to
-answer for detaining her; and you're much mistaken if you think you'll
-get hold of her property, even though she were to marry your son, for,
-I warn you, she's not her own mistress, or able to be so."
-
-"Drat your impudence, you low-born ruffian," answered his opponent;
-"who cares for her money? It's not come to that yet, that a Kelly is
-wanting to schame money out of a Lynch."
-
-"I've nothing more to say, since you insist on keeping possession of
-my sister," and Barry turned to the door. "But you'll be indicted for
-conspiracy, so you'd better be prepared."
-
-"Conspiracy, is it?" said one of Mrs Kelly's admirers; "maybe, Ma'am,
-he'll get you put in along with Dan and Father Tierney, God bless them!
-It's conspiracy they're afore the judges for."
-
-Barry now took himself off, before hearing the last of the widow's
-final peal of thunder.
-
-"Get out wid you! You're no good, and never will be. An' it wasn't for
-the young woman upstairs, I'd have the coat off your back, and your
-face well mauled, before I let you out of the shop!" And so ended the
-interview, in which the anxious brother can hardly be said to have been
-triumphant, or successful.
-
-The widow, on the other hand, seemed to feel that she had acquitted
-herself well, and that she had taken the orphan's part, like a woman,
-a Christian, and a mother; and merely saying, with a kind of inward
-chuckle, "Come to me, indeed, with his roguery! he's got the wrong pig
-by the ear!" she walked off, to join the more timid trio upstairs, one
-of whom was speedily sent down, to see that business did not go astray.
-
-And then she gave a long account of the interview to Anty and Meg,
-which was hardly necessary, as they had heard most of what had passed.
-The widow however was not to know that, and she was very voluble in her
-description of Barry's insolence, and of the dreadfully abusive things
-he had said to her--how he had given her the lie, and called her out of
-her name. She did not, however, seem to be aware that she had, herself,
-said a word which was more than necessarily violent; and assured Anty
-over and over again, that, out of respect to her feelings, and because
-the man was, after all, her brother, she had refrained from doing and
-saying what she would have done and said, had she been treated in
-such a manner by anybody else. She seemed, however, in spite of the
-ill-treatment which she had undergone, to be in a serene and happy
-state of mind. She shook Anty's two hands in hers, and told her to make
-herself "snug and asy where she was, like a dear girl, and to fret
-for nothing, for no one could hurt or harum her, and she undher Mary
-Kelly's roof." Then she wiped her face in her apron, set to at her
-dinner; and even went so far as to drink a glass of porter, a thing she
-hadn't done, except on a Sunday, since her eldest daughter's marriage.
-
-Barry Lynch sneaked up the town, like a beaten dog. He felt that the
-widow had had the best of it, and he also felt that every one in
-Dunmore was against him. It was however only what he had expected, and
-calculated upon; and what should he care for the Dunmore people? They
-wouldn't rise up and kill him, nor would they be likely even to injure
-him. Let them hate on, he would follow his own plan. As he came near
-the house gate, there was sitting, as usual, Jacky, the fool.
-
-"Well, yer honer, Masther Barry," said Jacky, "don't forget your poor
-fool this blessed morning!"
-
-"Away with you! If I see you there again, I'll have you in Bridewell,
-you blackguard."
-
-"Ah, you're joking, Masther Barry. You wouldn't like to be afther doing
-that. So yer honer's been down to the widdy's? That's well; it's a
-fine thing to see you on good terms, since you're soon like to be so
-sib. Well, there an't no betther fellow, from this to Galway, than
-Martin Kelly, that's one comfort, Masther Barry."
-
-Barry looked round for something wherewith to avenge himself for this,
-but Jacky was out of his reach; so he merely muttered some customary
-but inaudible curses, and turned into the house.
-
-He immediately took pen, ink, and paper, and, writing the following
-note dispatched it to Tuam, by Terry, mounted for the occasion, and
-directed on no account to return without an answer. If Mr Daly wasn't
-at home, he was to wait for his return; that is, if he was expected
-home that night.
-
-
-   Dunmore House, Feb. 1844.
-
-   My dear Sir,
-
-   I wish to consult you on legal business, which will _bear no
-   delay_. The subject is of considerable importance, and I am
-   induced to think it will be more ably handled by you than by
-   Mr Blake, my father's man of business. There is a bed at your
-   service at Dunmore House, and I shall be glad to see you to
-   dinner to-morrow.
-
-   I am, dear Sir, Your faithful servant,
-
-   BARRY LYNCH.
-
-   P.S.--You had better not mention in Tuam that you are coming
-   to me,--not that my business is one that I intend to keep
-   secret.
-
-   J. Daly, Esq., Solicitor, Tuam.
-
-
-In about two hours' time, Terry had put the above into the hands of the
-person for whom it was intended, and in two more he had brought back an
-answer, saying that Mr Daly would be at Dunmore House to dinner on the
-following day. And Terry, on his journey there and back, did not forget
-to tell everyone he saw, from whom he came, and to whom he was going.
-
-
-
-
-VIII.  MR MARTIN KELLY RETURNS TO DUNMORE
-
-
-We will now return to Martin Kelly. I have before said that as soon
-as he had completed his legal business,--namely, his instructions for
-the settlement of Anty Lynch's property, respecting which he and Lord
-Ballindine had been together to the lawyer's in Clare Street,--he
-started for home, by the Ballinasloe canal-boat, and reached that
-famous depot of the fleecy tribe without adventure. I will not attempt
-to describe the tedium of that horrid voyage, for it has been often
-described before; and to Martin, who was in no ways fastidious, it
-was not so unendurable as it must always be to those who have been
-accustomed to more rapid movement. Nor yet will I attempt to put on
-record the miserable resources of those, who, doomed to a twenty hours'
-sojourn in one of these floating prisons, vainly endeavour to occupy
-or amuse their minds. But I will advise any, who from ill-contrived
-arrangements, or unforeseen misfortune, [15] may find themselves on
-board the Ballinasloe canal-boat, to entertain no such vain dream.
-The _vis inertiae_ [16] of patient endurance, is the only weapon of any
-use in attempting to overcome the lengthened ennui of this most tedious
-transit. Reading is out of the question. I have tried it myself, and
-seen others try it, but in vain. The sense of the motion, almost
-imperceptible, but still perceptible; the noises above you; the smells
-around you; the diversified crowd, of which you are a part; at one
-moment the heat this crowd creates; at the next, the draught which
-a window just opened behind your ears lets in on you; the fumes of
-punch; the snores of the man under the table; the noisy anger of his
-neighbour, who reviles the attendant sylph; the would-be witticisms of
-a third, who makes continual amorous overtures to the same overtasked
-damsel, notwithstanding the publicity of his situation; the loud
-complaints of the old lady near the door, who cannot obtain the
-gratuitous kindness of a glass of water; and the baby-soothing
-lullabies of the young one, who is suckling her infant under your
-elbow. These things alike prevent one from reading, sleeping, or
-thinking. All one can do is to wait till the long night gradually wears
-itself away, and reflect that,
-
-
-   Time and the hour run through the longest day [17].
-
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 15: Of course it will be remembered that this was
-                   written before railways in Ireland had been
-                   constructed. (original footnote by Trollope)]
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 16: vis inertiae--(Latin) the power of inertia]
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 17: _Macbeth_, Act I, Sc. 3: "Come what come may,
-                   Time and the hour runs through the roughest day."]
-
-
-I hardly know why a journey in one of these boats should be much more
-intolerable than travelling either outside or inside a coach; for,
-either in or on the coach, one has less room for motion, and less
-opportunity of employment. I believe the misery of the canal-boat
-chiefly consists in a pre-conceived and erroneous idea of its
-capabilities. One prepares oneself for occupation--an attempt is made
-to achieve actual comfort--and both end in disappointment; the limbs
-become weary with endeavouring to fix themselves in a position of
-repose, and the mind is fatigued more by the search after, than the
-want of, occupation.
-
-Martin, however, made no complaints, and felt no misery. He made great
-play at the eternal half-boiled leg of mutton, floating in a bloody sea
-of grease and gravy, which always comes on the table three hours after
-the departure from Porto Bello. He, and others equally gifted with
-the _dura ilia messorum_ [18], swallowed huge collops [19] of the raw
-animal, and vast heaps of yellow turnips, till the pity with which a
-stranger would at first be inclined to contemplate the consumer of such
-unsavoury food, is transferred to the victim who has to provide the
-meal at two shillings a head. Neither love nor drink--and Martin had,
-on the previous day, been much troubled with both--had affected his
-appetite; and he ate out his money with the true persevering prudence
-of a Connaught man, who firmly determines not to be done.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 18: dura ilia messorum--(Latin) the strong intestines
-                   of reapers--a quotation from Horace's _Epodes_ III.
-                   Trollope was an accomplished Latin scholar and later
-                   wrote a _Life of Cicero_. His books are full of
-                   quotations from many Roman writers.]
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 19: collops--portions of food or slices of meat]
-
-He was equally diligent at breakfast; and, at last, reached
-Ballinasloe, at ten o'clock the morning after he had left Dublin, in a
-flourishing condition. From thence he travelled, by Bianconi's car, as
-far as Tuam, and when there he went at once to the hotel, to get a hack
-car to take him home to Dunmore.
-
-In the hotel yard he found a car already prepared for a journey;
-and, on giving his order for a similar vehicle for his own use, was
-informed, by the disinterested ostler, that the horse then being
-harnessed, was to take Mr Daly, the attorney, to Tuam, [20] and that
-probably that gentleman would not object to join him, Martin, in the
-conveyance. Martin, thinking it preferable to pay fourpence rather than
-sixpence a mile for his jaunt, acquiesced in this arrangement, and, as
-he had a sort of speaking acquaintance with Mr Daly, whom he rightly
-imagined would not despise the economy which actuated himself, he had
-his carpet-bag put into the well of the car, and, placing himself on
-it, he proceeded to the attorney's door.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 20: The text says "Tuam," but the destination is
-                   really Dunmore.]
-
-He soon made the necessary explanation to Mr Daly, who made no
-objection to the proposal; and he also throwing a somewhat diminutive
-carpet-bag into the same well, placed himself alongside of our friend,
-and they proceeded on their journey, with the most amicable feelings
-towards each other.
-
-They little guessed, either the one or the other, as they commenced
-talking on the now all-absorbing subject of the great trial, that they
-were going to Dunmore for the express object--though not with the
-expressed purpose, of opposing each other--that Daly was to be employed
-to suggest any legal means for robbing Martin of a wife, and Anty
-of her property; and that Martin was going home with the fixed
-determination of effecting a wedding, to prevent which his companion
-was, in consideration of liberal payment, to use all his ingenuity and
-energy.
-
-When they had discussed O'Connel and his companions, and their chances
-of liberation for four or five miles, and when Martin had warmly
-expressed his assurance that no jury could convict the saviours of
-their country, and Daly had given utterance to his legal opinion that
-saltpetre couldn't save them from two years in Newgate, Martin asked
-his companion whether he was going beyond Dunmore that night?
-
-"No, indeed, then," replied Daly; "I have a client there now--a thing I
-never had in that part of the country before yesterday."
-
-"We'll have you at the inn, then, I suppose, Mr Daly?"
-
-"Faith, you won't, for I shall dine on velvet. My new client is one
-of the right sort, that can feed as well as fee a lawyer. I've got my
-dinner, and bed tonight, whatever else I may get."
-
-"There's not many of that sort in Dunmore thin; any way, there weren't
-when I left it, a week since. Whose house are you going to, Mr Daly,
-av' it's not impertinent asking?"
-
-"Barry Lynch's."
-
-"Barry Lynch's!" re-echoed Martin; "the divil you are! I wonder what's
-in the wind with him now. I thought Blake always did his business?"
-
-"The devil a know I know, so I can't tell you; and if I did, I
-shouldn't, you may be sure. But a man that's just come to his property
-always wants a lawyer; and many a one, besides Barry Lynch, ain't
-satisfied without two."
-
-"Well, any way, I wish you joy of your new client. I'm not over fond of
-him myself, I'll own; but then there were always rasons why he and I
-shouldn't pull well together. Barry's always been a dale too high for
-me, since he was at school with the young lord. Well, good evening, Mr
-Daly. Never mind time car coming down the street, as you're at your
-friend's gate," and Martin took his bag on his arm, and walked down to
-the inn.
-
-Though Martin couldn't guess, as he walked quickly down the street,
-what Barry Lynch could want with young Daly, who was beginning to be
-known as a clever, though not over-scrupulous practitioner, he felt a
-presentiment that it must have some reference to Anty and himself, and
-this made him rather uncomfortable. Could Barry have heard of his
-engagement? Had Anty repented of her bargain, during his short absence?
-Had that old reptile Moylan, played him false, and spoilt his game?
-"That must be it," said Martin to himself, "and it's odd but I'll be
-even with the schamer, yet; only she's so asy frightened!--Av' she'd
-the laist pluck in life, it's little I'd care for Moylan or Barry
-either."
-
-This little soliloquy brought him to the inn door. Some of the tribe of
-loungers who were always hanging about the door, and whom in her hatred
-of idleness the widow would one day rout from the place, and, in her
-charity, feed the next, had seen Martin coming down the street, and had
-given intelligence in the kitchen. As he walked in, therefore, at the
-open door, Meg and Jane were ready to receive him in the passage. Their
-looks were big with some important news. Martin soon saw that they had
-something to tell.
-
-"Well, girls," he said, as he chucked his bag and coat to Sally, "for
-heaven's sake get me something to ate, for I'm starved. What's the
-news at Dunmore?"
-
-"It's you should have the news thin," said one, "and you just from
-Dublin."
-
-"There's lots of news there, then; I'll tell you when I've got my
-dinner. How's the ould lady?" and he stepped on, as if to pass by
-them, upstairs.
-
-"Stop a moment, Martin," said Meg; "don't be in a hurry; there's some
-one there."
-
-"Who's there? is it a stranger?"
-
-"Why, then, it is, and it isn't," said Jane.
-
-"But you don't ask afther the young lady!" said her sister.
-
-"May I be hanged thin, av' I know what the two of ye are afther! Is
-there people in both the rooms? Come, girls, av' ye've anything to
-tell, why don't you out wid it and have done? I suppose I can go into
-the bed-room, at any rate?"
-
-"Aisy, Martin, and I'll tell you. Anty's in the parlour."
-
-"In the parlour upstairs?" said he; "the deuce she is! And what brought
-her here? Did she quarrel with Barry, Meg?" added he, in a whisper.
-
-"Indeed she did, out and out," said Meg.
-
-"Oh, he used her horrible!" said Jane.
-
-"He'll hear all about that by and by," said Meg. "Come up and see her
-now, Martin."
-
-"But does mother know she's here?"
-
-"Why, it was she brought her here! She fetched her down from the house,
-yesterday, before we was up."
-
-Thus assured that Anty had not been smuggled upstairs, her lover, or
-suitor as he might perhaps be more confidently called, proceeded to
-visit her. If he wished her to believe that his first impulse, on
-hearing of her being in the house, had been to throw himself at her
-feet, it would have been well that this conversation should have been
-carried on out of her hearing. But Anty was not an exigent mistress,
-and was perfectly contented that as much of her recent history as
-possible should be explained before Martin presented himself.
-
-Martin went slowly upstairs, and paused a moment at the door, as if he
-was a little afraid of commencing the interview; he looked round to his
-sisters, and made a sign to them to come in with him, and then, quickly
-pushing open the unfastened door, walked briskly up to Anty and shook
-hands with her.
-
-"I hope you're very well, Anty," said he; "seeing you here is what I
-didn't expect, but I'm very glad you've come down."
-
-"Thank ye, Martin," replied she; "it was very good of your mother,
-fetching me. She's been the best friend I've had many a day."
-
-"Begad, it's a fine thing to see you and the ould lady pull so well
-together. It was yesterday you came here?"
-
-"Yesterday morning. I was so glad to come! I don't know what they'd
-been saying to Barry; but the night before last he got drinking, and
-then he was very bad to me, and tried to frighten me, and so, you see,
-I come down to your mother till we could be friends again."
-
-Anty's apology for being at the inn, was perhaps unnecessary; but, with
-the feeling so natural to a woman, she was half afraid that Martin
-would fancy she had run after him, and she therefore thought it as well
-to tell him that it was only a temporary measure. Poor Anty! At the
-moment she said so, she trembled at the very idea of putting herself
-again in her brother's power.
-
-"Frinds, indeed!" said Meg; "how can you iver be frinds with the like
-of him? What nonsense you talk, Anty! Why, Martin, he was like to
-murdher her!--he raised his fist to her, and knocked her down--and,
-afther that, swore to her he'd kill her outright av' she wouldn't sware
-that she'd niver--"
-
-"Whist, Meg! How can you go on that way?" said Anty, interrupting her,
-and blushing. "I'll not stop in the room; don't you know he was dhrunk
-when he done all that?"
-
-"And won't he be dhrunk again, Anty?" suggested Jane.
-
-"Shure he will: he'll be dhrunk always, now he's once begun," replied
-Meg, who, of all the family was the most anxious to push her brother's
-suit; and who, though really fond of her friend, thought the present
-opportunity a great deal too good to be thrown away, and could not bear
-the idea of Anty's even thinking of being reconciled to her brother.
-"Won't he be always dhrunk now?" she continued; "and ain't we all
-frinds here? and why shouldn't you let me tell Martin all? Afther
-all's said and done, isn't he the best frind you've got?"--Here Anty
-blushed very red, and to tell the truth, so did Martin too--"well so he
-is, and unless you tell him what's happened, how's he to know what to
-advise; and, to tell the truth, wouldn't you sooner do what he says
-than any one else?"
-
-"I'm sure I'm very much obliged to Mr Martin"--it had been plain Martin
-before Meg's appeal; "but your mother knows what's best for me, and
-I'll do whatever she says. Av' it hadn't been for her, I don't know
-where I'd be now."
-
-"But you needn't quarrel with Martin because you're frinds with
-mother," answered Meg.
-
-"Nonsense, Meg," said Jane, "Anty's not going to quarrel with him. You
-hurry her too much."
-
-Martin looked rather stupid all this time, but he plucked up courage
-and said, "Who's going to quarrel? I'm shure, Anty, you and I won't;
-but, whatever it is Barry did to you, I hope you won't go back there
-again, now you're once here. But did he railly sthrike you in arnest?"
-
-"He did, and knocked her down," said Jane.
-
-"But won't you get your brother his dinner?" said Anty; "he must be
-very hungry, afther his ride--and won't you see your mother afther your
-journey, Mr Martin? I'm shure she's expecting you."
-
-This, for the present, put an end to the conversation; the girls went
-to get something for their brother to eat, and he descended into the
-lower regions to pay his filial respects to his mother.
-
-A considerable time passed before Martin returned to the meal the
-three young women had provided for him, during which he was in close
-consultation with the widow. In the first place, she began upbraiding
-him for his folly in wishing to marry an old maid for her money; she
-then taxed him with villany, for trying to cheat Anty out of her
-property; and when he defended himself from that charge by telling her
-what he had done about the settlement, she asked him how much he had to
-pay the rogue of a lawyer for that "gander's job". She then proceeded
-to point out all the difficulties which lay in the way of a marriage
-between him, Martin, and her, Anty; and showed how mad it was for
-either of them to think about it. From that, she got into a narrative
-of Barry's conduct, and Anty's sufferings, neither of which lost
-anything in the telling; and having by this time gossiped herself
-into a good humour, she proceeded to show how, through her means and
-assistance, the marriage might take place if he was still bent upon
-it. She eschewed all running away, and would hear of no clandestine
-proceedings. They should be married in the face of day, as the
-Kellys ought, with all their friends round them. "They'd have no
-huggery-muggery work, up in a corner; not they indeed! why should
-they?--for fear of Barry Lynch?--who cared for a dhrunken blackguard
-like that?--not she indeed! who ever heard of a Kelly being afraid of a
-Lynch?--They'd ax him to come and see his sister married, and av' he
-didn't like it, he might do the other thing."
-
-And so, the widow got quite eloquent on the glories of the wedding, and
-the enormities of her son's future brother-in-law, who had, she assured
-Martin, come down and abused her horribly, in her own shop, before all
-the town, because she allowed Anty to stay in the house. She then
-proceeded to the consequences of the marriage, and expressed her hope
-that when Martin got all that ready money he would "do something for
-his poor sisthers--for Heaven knew they war like to be bad enough off,
-for all she'd be able to do for them!" From this she got to Martin's
-own future mode of life, suggesting a "small snug cottage on the farm,
-just big enough for them two, and, may-be, a slip of a girl servant,
-and not to be taring and tatthering away, as av' money had no eend;
-and, afther all," she added, "there war nothing like industhry; and who
-know'd whether that born villain, Barry, mightn't yet get sich a hoult
-of the money, that there'd be no getting it out of his fist?" and she
-then depicted, in most pathetic language, what would be the misery of
-herself and all the Kellys if Martin, flushed with his prosperity, were
-to give up the farm at Toneroe, and afterwards find that he had been
-robbed of his expected property, and that he had no support for himself
-and his young bride.
-
-On this subject Martin considerably comforted her by assuring her that
-he had no thoughts of abandoning Toneroe, although he did not go so far
-as to acquiesce in the very small cottage; and he moreover expressed
-his thorough confidence that he would neither be led himself, nor lead
-Anty, into the imprudence of a marriage, until he had well satisfied
-himself that the property was safe.
-
-The widow was well pleased to find, from Martin's prudent resolves,
-that he was her own son, and that she needn't blush for him; and then
-they parted, she to her shop, and he to his dinner: not however, before
-he had promised her to give up all ideas of a clandestine marriage, and
-to permit himself to be united to his wife in the face of day, as
-became a Kelly.
-
-The evening passed over quietly and snugly at the inn. Martin had not
-much difficulty in persuading his three companions to take a glass
-of punch each out of his tumbler, and less in getting them to take a
-second, and, before they went to bed, he and Anty were again intimate.
-And, as he was sitting next her for a couple of hours on the little
-sofa opposite the fire, it is more than probable that he got his arm
-round her waist--a comfortable position, which seemed in no way to
-shock the decorum of either Meg or Jane.
-
-
-
-
-IX.  MR DALY, THE ATTORNEY
-
-
-We must now see how things went on in the enemy's camp.
-
-The attorney drove up to the door of Dunmore House on his car, and was
-shown into the drawing-room, where he met Barry Lynch. The two young
-men were acquainted, though not intimate with each other, and they
-bowed, and then shook hands; and Barry told the attorney that he was
-welcome to Dunmore House, and the attorney made another bow, rubbed his
-hands before the fire and said it was a very cold evening; and Barry
-said it was 'nation cold for that time of the year; which, considering
-that they were now in the middle of February, showed that Barry was
-rather abroad, and didn't exactly know what to say. He remained for
-about a minute, silent before the fire, and then asked Daly if he'd
-like to see his room; and, the attorney acquiescing, he led him up to
-it, and left him there.
-
-The truth was, that, as the time of the man's visit had drawn nearer,
-Barry had become more and more embarrassed; and now that the attorney
-had absolutely come, his employer felt himself unable to explain the
-business before dinner. "These fellows are so confoundedly sharp--I
-shall never be up to him till I get a tumbler of punch on board," said
-he to himself, comforting himself with the reflection; "besides, I'm
-never well able for anything till I get a little warmed. We'll get
-along like a house on fire when we've got the hot water between us."
-The true meaning of all which was, that he hadn't the courage to make
-known his villanous schemes respecting his sister till he was half
-drunk; and, in order the earlier to bring about this necessary and now
-daily consummation, he sneaked downstairs and took a solitary glass of
-brandy to fortify himself for entertaining the attorney.
-
-The dinner was dull enough; for, of course, as long as the man was in
-the room there was no talking on business, and, in his present frame of
-mind Barry was not likely to be an agreeable companion. The attorney
-ate his dinner as if it was a part of the fee, received in payment of
-the work he was to do, and with a determination to make the most of it.
-
-At last, the dishes disappeared, and with them Terry Rooney; who,
-however, like a faithful servant, felt too strong an interest in his
-master's affairs to be very far absent when matters of importance were
-likely to be discussed.
-
-"And now, Mr Daly," said Lynch, "we can be snug here, without
-interruption, for an hour or two. You'll find that whiskey old and
-good, I think; but, if you prefer wine, that port on the table came
-from Barton's, in Sackville Street."
-
-"Thank ye; if I take anything, it'll be a glass of punch. But as we've
-business to talk of, may-be I'd better keep my head clear."
-
-"My head's never so clear then, as when I've done my second tumbler.
-I'm never so sure of what I'm about as when I'm a little warmed;
-'but,' says you, 'because my head's strong, it's no reason another's
-shouldn't be weak:' but do as you like; liberty hall here now, Mr Daly;
-that is, as far as I'm concerned. You knew my father, I believe, Mr
-Daly?"
-
-"Well then, Mr Lynch, I didn't exactly know him; but living so near
-him, and he having so much business in the county, and myself having
-a little, I believe I've been in company with him, odd times."
-
-"He was a queer man: wasn't he, Mr Daly?"
-
-"Was he, then? I dare say. I didn't know much about him. I'll take the
-sugar from you, Mr Lynch; I believe I might as well mix a drop, as the
-night's cold."
-
-"That's right. I thought you weren't the fellow to sit with an empty
-glass before you. But, as I was saying before, the old boy was a queer
-hand; that is, latterly--for the last year or so. Of course you know
-all about his will?"
-
-"Faith then, not much. I heard he left a will, dividing the property
-between you and Miss Lynch."
-
-"He did! Just at the last moment, when the breath wasn't much more than
-left in him, he signed a will, making away half the estate, just as you
-say, to my sister. Blake could have broke the will, only he was so
-d---- pig-headed and stupid. It's too late now, I suppose?"
-
-"Why, I could hardly answer that, you know, as I never heard the
-circumstances; but I was given to understand that Blake consulted
-McMahon; and that McMahon wouldn't take up the case, as there was
-nothing he could put before the Chancellor. Mind I'm only repeating
-what people said in Tuam, and about there. Of course, I couldn't think
-of advising till I knew the particulars. Was it on this subject, Mr
-Lynch, you were good enough to send for me?"
-
-"Not at all, Mr Daly. I look upon that as done and gone; bad luck to
-Blake and McMahon, both. The truth is, between you and me, Daly--I
-don't mind telling you; as I hope now you will become my man of
-business, and it's only fair you should know all about it--the truth
-is, Blake was more interested on the other side, and he was determined
-the case shouldn't go before the Chancellor. But, when my father signed
-that will, it was just after one of those fits he had lately; that
-could be proved, and he didn't know what he was doing, from Adam! He
-didn't know what was in the will, nor, that he was signing a will at
-all; so help me, he didn't. However, that's over. It wasn't to talk
-about that that I sent for you; only, sorrow seize the rogue that made
-the old man rob me! It wasn't Anty herself, poor creature; she knew
-nothing about it; it was those who meant to get hold of my money,
-through her, that did it. Poor Anty! Heaven knows she wasn't up to such
-a dodge as that!"
-
-"Well, Mr Lynch, of course I know nothing of the absolute facts; but
-from what I hear, I think it's as well to let the will alone. The
-Chancellor won't put a will aside in a hurry; it's always a difficult
-job--would cost an immense sum of money, which should, any way, come
-out of the property; and, after all, the chances are ten to one you'd
-be beat."
-
-"Perhaps you're right, now; though I'm sure, had the matter been
-properly taken up at first--had you seen the whole case at the first
-start, the thing could have been done. I'm sure you would have said so;
-but that's over now; it's another business I want you for. But you
-don't drink your punch!--and it's dry work talking, without wetting
-one's whistle," and Barry carried out his own recommendation.
-
-"I'm doing very well, thank ye, Mr Lynch. And what is it I can do for
-you?"
-
-"That's what I'm coming to. You know that, by the will, my sister Anty
-gets from four to five hundred a year?"
-
-"I didn't know the amount; but I believe she has half whatever there
-is."
-
-"Exactly: half the land, half the cash, half the house, half
-everything, except the debts! and those were contracted in my name, and
-I must pay them all. Isn't that hard, Mr Daly?"
-
-"I didn't know your father had debts."
-
-"Oh, but he had--debts which ought to have been his; though, as I said,
-they stand in my name, and I must pay them."
-
-"And, I suppose, what you now want is to saddle the debts on the entire
-property? If you can really prove that the debts were incurred for your
-father's benefit, I should think you might do that. But has your sister
-refused to pay the half? They can't be heavy. Won't Miss Lynch agree to
-pay the half herself?"
-
-This last lie of Barry's--for, to give the devil his due, old Sim
-hadn't owed one penny for the last twenty years--was only a bright
-invention of the moment, thrown off by our injured hero to aggravate
-the hardships of his case; but he was determined to make the most of
-it.
-
-"Not heavy?--faith, they _are_ heavy, and d----d heavy too, Mr
-Daly!--what'll take two hundred a-year out of my miserable share of the
-property; divil a less. Oh! there's never any knowing how a man'll cut
-up till he's gone."
-
-"That's true; but how could your father owe such a sum as that, and no
-one know it? Why, that must be four or five thousand pounds?"
-
-"About five, I believe."
-
-"And you've put your name to them, isn't that it?"
-
-"Something like it. You know, he and Lord Ballindine, years ago, were
-fighting about the leases we held under the old Lord; and then, the old
-man wanted ready money, and borrowed it in Dublin; and, some years
-since--that is, about three years ago,--sooner than see any of the
-property sold, I took up the debt myself. You know, it was all as good
-as my own then; and now, confound it! I must pay the whole out of the
-miserable thing that's left me under this infernal will. But it wasn't
-even about that I sent for you; only, I must explain exactly how
-matters are, before I come to the real point."
-
-"But your father's name must be joined with yours in the debt; and, if
-so, you can come upon the entire property for the payment. There's no
-difficulty about that; your sister, of course, must pay the half."
-
-"It's not so, my dear fellow. I can't explain the thing exactly,
-but it's I that owe the money, and I must pay it. But it's no good
-talking of that. Well, you see, Anty that's my sister, has this
-property all in her own hands. But you don't drink your punch," and
-Barry mixed his third tumbler.
-
-"Of course she has; and, surely she won't refuse to pay half the claims
-on the estate?"
-
-"Never mind the claims!" answered Barry, who began to fear that he
-had pushed his little invention a thought too far. "I tell you, I
-must stand to them; you don't suppose I'd ask her to pay a penny as a
-favour? No; I'm a little too proud for that. Besides, it'd be no use,
-not the least; and that's what I'm coming to. You see, Anty's got
-this money, and--You know, don't you, Mr Daly, poor Anty's not just
-like other people?"
-
-"No," said Mr Daly--"I didn't. I can't say I know much about Miss
-Lynch. I never had the pleasure of seeing her."
-
-"But did you never hear she wasn't quite right?"
-
-"Indeed, I never did, then."
-
-"Well that's odd; but we never had it much talked about, poor
-creature. Indeed, there was no necessity for people to know much about
-it, for she never gave any trouble; and, to tell the truth, as long as
-she was kept quiet, she never gave us occasion to think much about it.
-But, confound them for rogues--those who have got hold of her now, have
-quite upset her."
-
-"But what is it ails your sister, Mr Lynch?"
-
-"To have it out, at once, then--she's not right in her upper story.
-Mind, I don't mean she's a downright lunatic; but she's cracked, poor
-thing, and quite unable to judge for herself, in money-matters, and
-such like; and, though she might have done very well, poor thing,
-and passed without notice, if she'd been left quiet, as was always
-intended, I'm afraid now, unless she's well managed, she'd end her
-life in the Ballinasloe Asylum."
-
-The attorney made no answer to this, although Barry paused, to allow
-him to do so. Daly was too sharp, and knew his employer's character
-too well to believe all he said, and he now began to fancy that he saw
-what the affectionate brother was after. "Well, Daly," continued Barry,
-after a minute's pause; "after the old man died, we went on quiet
-enough for some time. I was up in Dublin mostly, about that confounded
-loan, and poor Anty was left here by herself; and what should she do,
-but take up with a low huxter's family in the town here."
-
-"That's bad," said the attorney. "Was there an unmarried young man
-among them at all?"
-
-"Faith there was so; as great a blackguard as there is in Connaught."
-
-"And Miss Lynch is going to marry him?"
-
-"That's just it, Daly; that's what we must prevent. You know, for the
-sake of the family, I couldn't let it go on. Then, poor creature, she'd
-be plundered and ill-treated--she'd be a downright idiot in no time;
-and, you know, Daly, the property'd go to the devil; and where'd I be
-then?"
-
-Daly couldn't help thinking that, in all probability, his kind host
-would not be long in following the property; but he did not say so. He
-merely asked the name of the "blackguard" whom Miss Anty meant to
-marry?
-
-"Wait till I tell you the whole of it. The first thing I heard was,
-that Anty had made a low ruffian, named Moylan, her agent."
-
-"I know him; she couldn't have done much worse. Well?"
-
-"She made him her agent without speaking to me, or telling me a word
-about it; and I couldn't make out what had put it into her head, till I
-heard that this old rogue was a kind of cousin to some people living
-here, named Kelly."
-
-"What, the widow, that keeps the inn?"
-
-"The very same! confound her, for an impertinent scheming old hag, as
-she is. Well; that's the house that Anty was always going to; drinking
-tea with the daughters, and walking with the son--an infernal young
-farmer, that lives with them, the worst of the whole set."
-
-"What, Martin Kelly?--There's worse fellows than him, Mr Lynch."
-
-"I'll be hanged if I know them, then; but if there are, I don't choose
-my poor sister--only one remove from an idiot, and hardly that--to be
-carried off from her mother's house, and married to such a fellow as
-that. Why, it's all the same infernal plot; it's the same people that
-got the old man to sign the will, when he was past his senses!"
-
-"Begad, they must have been clever to do that! How the deuce could they
-have got the will drawn?"
-
-"I tell you, they _did_ do it!" answered Barry, whose courage was now
-somewhat raised by the whiskey. "That's neither here nor there, but
-they did it; and, when the old fool was dead, they got this Moylan
-made Anty's agent: and then, the hag of a mother comes up here, before
-daylight, and bribes the servant, and carries her off down to her
-filthy den, which she calls an inn; and when I call to see my sister,
-I get nothing but insolence and abuse."
-
-"And when did this happen? When did Miss Lynch leave the house?"
-
-"Yesterday morning, about four o'clock."
-
-"She went down of her own accord, though?"
-
-"D----l a bit. The old hag came up here, and filched her out of her
-bed."
-
-"But she couldn't have taken your sister away, unless she had wished to
-go."
-
-"Of course she wished it; but a silly creature like her can't be let to
-do all she wishes.. She wishes to get a husband, and doesn't care what
-sort of a one she gets; but you don't suppose an old maid--forty years
-old, who has always been too stupid and foolish ever to be seen or
-spoken to, should be allowed to throw away four hundred a-year, on the
-first robber that tries to cheat her? You don't mean to say there isn't
-a law to prevent that?"
-
-"I don't know how you'll prevent it, Mr Lynch. She's her own
-mistress."
-
-"What the d----l! Do you mean to say there's nothing to prevent an
-idiot like that from marrying?"
-
-"If she _was_ an idiot! But I think you'll find your sister has sense
-enough to marry whom she pleases."
-
-"I tell you she _is_ an idiot; not raving, mind; but everybody knows
-she was never fit to manage anything."
-
-"Who'd prove it!"
-
-"Why, I would. Divil a doubt of it! I could prove that she never could,
-all her life."
-
-"Ah, my dear Sir! you couldn't do it; nor could I advise you to
-try--that is, unless there were plenty more who could swear positively
-that she was out of her mind. Would the servants swear that? Could you
-yourself, now, positively swear that she was out of her mind?"
-
-"Why--she never had any mind to be out of."
-
-"Unless you are very sure she is, and, for a considerable time back,
-has been, a confirmed lunatic, you'd be very wrong--very ill-advised,
-I mean, Mr Lynch, to try that game at all. Things would come out which
-you wouldn't like; and your motives would be--would be--" seen through
-at once, the attorney was on the point of saying, but he stopped
-himself, and finished by the words "called in question".
-
-"And I'm to sit here, then, and see that young blackguard Kelly, run
-off with what ought to be my own, and my sister into the bargain? I'm
-blessed if I do! If you can't put me in the way of stopping it, I'll
-find those that can."
-
-"You're getting too much in a hurry, Mr Lynch. Is your sister at the
-inn now?"
-
-"To be sure she is."
-
-"And she is engaged to this young man?"
-
-"She is."
-
-"Why, then, she might be married to him to-morrow, for anything you
-know."
-
-"She might, if he was here. But they tell me he's away, in Dublin."
-
-"If they told you so to-day, they told you wrong: he came into Dunmore,
-from Tuam, on the same car with myself, this very afternoon."
-
-"What, Martin Kelly? Then he'll be off with her this night, while we're
-sitting here!" and Barry jumped up, as if to rush out, and prevent the
-immediate consummation of his worst fears.
-
-"Stop a moment, Mr Lynch," said the more prudent and more sober lawyer.
-"If they were off, you couldn't follow them; and, if you did follow and
-find them, you couldn't prevent their being married, if such were their
-wish, and they had a priest ready to do it. Take my advice; remain
-quiet where you are, and let's talk the matter over. As for taking out
-a commission 'de lunatico', as we call it, you'll find you couldn't do
-it. Miss Lynch may be a little weak or so in the upper story, but she's
-not a lunatic; and you couldn't make her so, if you had half Dunmore
-to back you, because she'd be brought before the Commissioners herself,
-and that, you know, would soon settle the question. But you might still
-prevent the marriage, for a time, at any rate--at least, I think so;
-and, after that, you must trust to the chapter of accidents."
-
-"So help me, that's all I want! If I got her once up here again, and
-was sure the thing was off, for a month or so, let me alone, then, for
-bringing her to reason!"
-
-As Daly watched his comrade's reddening face, and saw the malicious
-gleam of his eyes as he declared how easily he'd manage the affair,
-if poor Anty was once more in the house, his heart misgave him, even
-though he was a sharp attorney, at the idea of assisting such a cruel
-brute in his cruelty; and, for a moment, he had determined to throw up
-the matter. Barry was so unprincipled, and so wickedly malicious in
-his want of principle, that he disgusted even Daly. But, on second
-thoughts, the lawyer remembered that if he didn't do the job, another
-would; and, quieting his not very violent qualms of conscience with the
-idea that, though employed by the brother, he might also, to a certain
-extent, protect the sister, he proceeded to give his advice as to the
-course which would be most likely to keep the property out of the hands
-of the Kellys.
-
-He explained to Barry that, as Anty had left her own home in company
-with Martin's mother, and as she now was a guest at the widow's, it was
-unlikely that any immediate clandestine marriage should be resorted
-to; that their most likely course would be to brazen the matter out,
-and have the wedding solemnised without any secrecy, and without any
-especial notice to him, Barry. That, on the next morning, a legal
-notice should be prepared in Tuam, and served on the widow, informing
-her that it was his intention to indict her for conspiracy, in enticing
-away from her own home his sister Anty, for the purpose of obtaining
-possession of her property, she being of weak mind, and not able
-properly to manage her own affairs; that a copy of this notice should
-also be sent to Martin, warning him that he would be included in the
-indictment if he took any proceedings with regard to Miss Lynch; and
-that a further copy should, if possible, be put into the hands of Miss
-Lynch herself.
-
-"You may be sure that'll frighten them," continued Daly; "and then, you
-know, when we see what sort of fight they make, we'll be able to judge
-whether we ought to go on and prosecute or not. I think the widow'll be
-very shy of meddling, when she finds you're in earnest. And you see, Mr
-Lynch," he went on, dropping his voice, "if you _do_ go into court, as
-I don't think you will, you'll go with clean hands, as you ought to do.
-Nobody can say anything against you for trying to prevent your sister
-from marrying a man so much younger than herself, and so much inferior
-in station and fortune; you won't seem to gain anything by it, and
-that's everything with a jury; and then, you know, if it comes out that
-Miss Lynch's mind is rather touched, it's an additional reason why you
-should protect her from intriguing and interested schemers. Don't you
-see?"
-
-Barry did see, or fancied he saw, that he had now got the Kellys
-in a dead fix, and Anty back into his own hands again; and his
-self-confidence having been fully roused by his potations, he was
-tolerably happy, and talked very loudly of the manner in which he would
-punish those low-bred huxters, who had presumed to interfere with him
-in the management of his family.
-
-Towards the latter end of the evening, he became even more
-confidential, and showed the cloven foot, if possible, more
-undisguisedly than he had hitherto done. He spoke of the impossibility
-of allowing four hundred a year to be carried off from him, and
-suggested to Daly that his sister would soon drop off,--that there
-would then be a nice thing left, and that he, Daly, should have the
-agency, and if he pleased, the use of Dunmore House. As for himself, he
-had no idea of mewing himself up in such a hole as that; but, before he
-went, he'd take care to drive that villain, Moylan, out of the place.
-"The cursed villany of those Kellys, to go and palm such a robber as
-that off on his sister, by way of an agent!"
-
-To all this, Daly paid but little attention, for he saw that his host
-was drunk. But when Moylan's name was mentioned, he began to think that
-it might be as well either to include him in the threatened indictment,
-or else, which would be better still, to buy him over to their side,
-as they might probably learn from him what Martin's plans really were.
-Barry was, however, too tipsy to pay much attention to this, or to
-understand any deep-laid plans. So the two retired to their beds, Barry
-determined, as he declared to the attorney in his drunken friendship,
-to have it out of Anty, when he caught her; and Daly promising to go to
-Tuam early in the morning, have the notices prepared and served, and
-come back in the evening to dine and sleep, and have, if possible, an
-interview with Mr Moylan. As he undressed, he reflected that, during
-his short professional career, he had been thrown into the society of
-many unmitigated rogues of every description; but that his new friend,
-Barry Lynch, though he might not equal them in energy of villany and
-courage to do serious evil, beat them all hollow in selfishness, and
-utter brutal want of feeling, conscience, and principle.
-
-
-
-
-X.  DOT BLAKE'S ADVICE
-
-
-In hour or two after Martin Kelly had left Porto Bello in the
-Ballinasloe fly-boat, our other hero, Lord Ballindine, and his friend
-Dot Blake, started from Morrison's hotel, with post horses, for
-Handicap Lodge; and, as they travelled in Blake's very comfortable
-barouche, they reached their destination in time for a late dinner,
-without either adventure or discomfort. Here they remained for some
-days, fully occupied with the education of their horses, the attention
-necessary to the engagements for which they were to run, and with their
-betting-books.
-
-Lord Ballindine's horse, Brien Boru, was destined to give the Saxons
-a dressing at Epsom, and put no one knows how many thousands into his
-owner's hands, by winning the Derby; and arrangements had already been
-made for sending him over to John Scott, the English trainer, at an
-expense, which, if the horse should by chance fail to be successful,
-would be of very serious consequence to his lordship. But Lord
-Ballindine had made up his mind, or rather, Blake had made it up for
-him, and the thing was to be done; the risk was to be run, and the
-preparations--the sweats and the gallops, the physicking, feeding, and
-coddling, kept Frank tolerably well employed; though the whole process
-would have gone on quite as well, had he been absent.
-
-It was not so, however, with Dot Blake. The turf, to him, was not an
-expensive pleasure, but a very serious business, and one which, to give
-him his due, he well understood. He himself, regulated the work, both
-of his horses and his men, and saw that both did what was allotted to
-them. He took very good care that he was never charged a guinea, where
-a guinea was not necessary; and that he got a guinea's worth for every
-guinea he laid out. In fact, he trained his own horses, and was thus
-able to assure himself that his interests were never made subservient
-to those of others who kept horses in the same stables. Dot was in his
-glory, and in his element on the Curragh, and he was never quite happy
-anywhere else.
-
-This, however, was not the case with his companion. For a couple of
-days the excitement attending Brien Boru was sufficient to fill Lord
-Ballindine's mind; but after that, he could not help recurring to other
-things. He was much in want of money, and had been civilly told by
-his agent's managing clerk, before he left town, that there was some
-difficulty in the way of his immediately getting the sum required. This
-annoyed him, for he could not carry on the game without money. And
-then, again, he was unhappy to be so near Fanny Wyndham, from day to
-day, without seeing her. He was truly and earnestly attached to her,
-and miserable at the threat which had been all but made by her
-guardian, that the match should be broken off.
-
-It was true that he had made up his mind not to go to Grey Abbey, as
-long as he remained at Handicap Lodge, and, having made the resolution,
-he thought he was wise in keeping it; but still, he continually felt
-that she must be aware that he was in the neighbourhood, and could not
-but be hurt at his apparent indifference. And then he knew that her
-guardian would make use of his present employment--his sojourn at such
-a den of sporting characters as his friend Blake's habitation--and his
-continued absence from Grey Abbey though known to be in its vicinity,
-as additional arguments for inducing his ward to declare the engagement
-at an end.
-
-These troubles annoyed him, and though he daily stood by and saw Brien
-Boru go through his manoeuvres, he was discontented and fidgety.
-
-He had been at Handicap Lodge about a fortnight, and was beginning to
-feel anything but happy. His horse was to go over in another week,
-money was not plentiful with him, and tradesmen were becoming obdurate
-and persevering. His host, Blake, was not a soothing or a comfortable
-friend, under these circumstances: he gave him a good deal of practical
-advice, but he could not sympathise with him. Blake was a sharp, hard,
-sensible man, who reduced everything to pounds shillings and pence.
-Lord Ballindine was a man of feeling, and for the time, at least, a man
-of pleasure; and, though they were, or thought themselves friends, they
-did not pull well together; in fact, they bored each other terribly.
-
-One morning, Lord Ballindine was riding out from the training-ground,
-when he met, if not an old, at any rate an intimate acquaintance, named
-Tierney. Mr or, as he was commonly called, Mat Tierney, was a bachelor,
-about sixty years of age, who usually inhabited a lodge near the
-Curragh; and who kept a horse or two on the turf, more for the sake of
-the standing which it gave him in the society he liked best, than from
-any intense love of the sport. He was a fat, jolly fellow, always
-laughing, and usually in a good humour; he was very fond of what he
-considered the world; and the world, at least that part of it which
-knew him, returned the compliment.
-
-"Well, my lord," said he, after a few minutes of got-up enthusiasm
-respecting Brien Boru, "I congratulate you, sincerely."
-
-"What about?" said Lord Ballindine.
-
-"Why, I find you've got a first-rate horse, and I hear you've got rid
-of a first-rate lady. You're very lucky, no doubt, in both; but I think
-fortune has stood to you most, in the latter."
-
-Lord Ballindine was petrified: he did not know what to reply. He was
-aware that his engagement with Miss Wyndham was so public that Tierney
-could allude to no other lady; but he could not conceive how any one
-could have heard that his intended marriage was broken off--at any rate
-how he could have heard it spoken of so publicly, as to induce him to
-mention it in that sort of way, to himself. His first impulse was to be
-very indignant; but he felt that no one would dream of quarrelling with
-Mat Tierney; so he said, as soon as he was able to collect his thoughts
-sufficiently,
-
-"I was not aware of the second piece of luck, Mr Tierney. Pray who is
-the lady?"
-
-"Why, Miss Wyndham," said Mat, himself a little astonished at Lord
-Ballindine's tone.
-
-"I'm sure, Mr Tierney," said Frank, "you would say nothing,
-particularly in connection with a lady's name, which you intended
-either to be impertinent, or injurious. Were it not that I am quite
-certain of this, I must own that what you have just said would appear
-to be both."
-
-"My dear lord," said the other, surprised and grieved, "I beg ten
-thousand pardons, if I have unintentionally said anything, which you
-feel to be either. But, surely, if I am not wrong in asking, the match
-between you and Miss Wyndham is broken off?"
-
-"May I ask you, Mr Tierney, who told you so?"
-
-"Certainly--Lord Kilcullen; and, as he is Miss Wyndham's cousin, and
-Lord Cashel's son, I could not but think the report authentic."
-
-This overset Frank still more thoroughly. Lord Kilcullen would never
-have spread the report publicly unless he had been authorised to do so
-by Lord Cashel. Frank and Lord Kilcullen had never been intimate; and
-the former was aware that the other had always been averse to the
-proposed marriage; but still, he would never have openly declared that
-the marriage was broken off, had he not had some authority for saying
-so.
-
-"As you seem somewhat surprised," continued Mat, seeing that Lord
-Ballindine remained silent, and apparently at a loss for what he ought
-to say, "perhaps I ought to tell you, that Lord Kilcullen mentioned
-it last night very publicly--at a dinner-party, as an absolute fact.
-Indeed, from his manner, I thought he wished it to be generally made
-known. I presumed, therefore, that it had been mutually agreed between
-you, that the event was not to come off--that the match was not to
-be run; and, with my peculiar views, you know, on the subject of
-matrimony, I thought it a fair point for congratulation. If Lord
-Kilcullen had misled me, I heartily beg to apologise; and at the same
-time, by giving you my authority, to show you that I could not intend
-anything impertinent. If it suits you, you are quite at liberty to tell
-Lord Kilcullen all I have told you; and, if you wish me to contradict
-the report, which I must own I have spread, I will do so."
-
-Frank felt that he could not be angry with Mat Tierney; he therefore
-thanked him for his open explanation, and, merely muttering something
-about private affairs not being worthy of public interest, rode off
-towards Handicap Lodge.
-
-It appeared very plain to him that the Grey Abbey family must have
-discarded him--that Fanny Wyndham, Lord and Lady Cashel, and the whole
-set, must have made up their minds to drop him altogether; otherwise,
-one of the family would not have openly declared the match at an end.
-And yet he was at a loss to conceive how they could have done so--how
-even Lord Cashel could have reconciled it to himself to do so, without
-the common-place courtesy of writing to him on the subject. And then,
-when he thought of her, "his own Fanny," as he had so often called her,
-he was still more bewildered: she, with whom he had sat for so many
-sweet hours talking of the impossibility of their ever forgetting,
-deserting, or even slighting each other; she, who had been so entirely
-devoted to him--so much more than engaged to him--could she have lent
-her name to such a heartless mode of breaking her faith?
-
-"If I had merely proposed for her through her guardian," thought Frank,
-to himself--"if I had got Lord Cashel to make the engagement, as many
-men do, I should not be surprised; but after all that has passed
-between us--after all her vows, and all her--" and then Lord Ballindine
-struck his horse with his heel, and made a cut at the air with his
-whip, as he remembered certain passages more binding even than
-promises, warmer even than vows, which seemed to make him as miserable
-now as they had made him happy at the time of their occurrence. "I
-would not believe it," he continued, meditating, "if twenty Kilcullens
-said it, or if fifty Mat Tierneys swore to it!" and then he rode on
-towards the lodge, in a state of mind for which I am quite unable to
-account, if his disbelief in Fanny Wyndham's constancy was really as
-strong as he had declared it to be. And, as he rode, many unusual
-thoughts--for, hitherto, Frank had not been a very deep-thinking
-man--crowded his mind, as to the baseness, falsehood, and iniquity of
-the human race, especially of rich cautious old peers who had beautiful
-wards in their power.
-
-By the time he had reached the lodge, he had determined that he must
-now do something, and that, as he was quite unable to come to any
-satisfactory conclusion on his own unassisted judgment, he must consult
-Blake, who, by the bye, was nearly as sick of Fanny Wyndham as he would
-have been had he himself been the person engaged to marry her.
-
-As he rode round to the yard, he saw his friend standing at the door of
-one of the stables, with a cigar in his mouth.
-
-"Well, Frank, how does Brien go to-day? Not that he'll ever be the
-thing till he gets to the other side of the water. They'll never be
-able to bring a horse out as he should be, on the Curragh, till they've
-regular trained gallops. The slightest frost in spring, or sun in
-summer, and the ground's so hard, you might as well gallop your horse
-down the pavement of Grafton Street."
-
-"Confound the horse," answered Frank; "come here, Dot, a minute. I want
-to speak to you."
-
-"What the d----l's the matter?--he's not lame, is he?"
-
-"Who?--what?--Brien Boru? Not that I know of. I wish the brute had
-never been foaled."
-
-"And why so? What crotchet have you got in your head now? Something
-wrong about Fanny, I suppose?"
-
-"Why, did you hear anything?"
-
-"Nothing but what you've told me."
-
-"I've just seen Mat Tierney, and he told me that Kilcullen had
-declared, at a large dinner-party, yesterday, that the match between me
-and his cousin was finally broken off."
-
-"You wouldn't believe what Mat Tierney would say? Mat was only taking a
-rise out of you."
-
-"Not at all: he was not only speaking seriously, but he told me what
-I'm very sure was the truth, as far as Lord Kilcullen was concerned. I
-mean, I'm sure Kilcullen said it, and in the most public manner he
-could; and now, the question is, what had I better do?"
-
-"There's no doubt as to what you'd better do; the question is what
-you'd rather do?"
-
-"But what had I _better_ do? call on Kilcullen for an explanation?"
-
-"That's the last thing to think of. No; but declare what he reports
-to be the truth; return Miss Wyndham the lock of hair you have in your
-desk, and next your heart, or wherever you keep it; write her a pretty
-note, and conclude by saying that the 'Adriatic's free to wed
-another'. That's what I should do."
-
-"It's very odd, Blake, that you won't speak seriously to a man for a
-moment. You've as much heart in you as one of your own horses. I wish
-I'd never come to this cursed lodge of yours. I'd be all right then."
-
-"As for my heart, Frank, if I have as much as my horses, I ought to be
-contented--for race-horses are usually considered to have a good deal;
-as for my cursed lodge, I can assure you I have endeavoured, and, if
-you will allow me, I will still endeavour, to make it as agreeable to
-you as I am able; and as to my speaking seriously, upon my word, I
-never spoke more so. You asked me what I thought you had better do--and
-I began by telling you there would be a great difference between that
-and what you'd rather do."
-
-"But, in heaven's name, why would you have me break off with Miss
-Wyndham, when every one knows I'm engaged to her; and when you know
-that I wish to marry her?"
-
-"Firstly, to prevent her breaking off with you--though I fear there's
-hardly time for that; and secondly, in consequence--as the newspapers
-say, of incompatibility of temper."
-
-"Why, you don't even know her!"
-
-"But I know you, and I know what your joint income would be, and I
-know that there would be great incompatibility between you, as Lord
-Ballindine, with a wife and family--and fifteen hundred a year, or so.
-But mind, I'm only telling you what I think you'd better do."
-
-"Well, I shan't do that. If I was once settled down, I could live as
-well on fifteen hundred a year as any country gentleman in Ireland.
-It's only the interference of Lord Cashel that makes me determined
-not to pull in till I am married. If he had let me have my own way, I
-shouldn't, by this time, have had a horse in the world, except one or
-two hunters or so, down in the country."
-
-"Well, Frank, if you're determined to get yourself married, I'll give
-you the best advice in my power as to the means of doing it. Isn't that
-what you want?"
-
-"I want to know what you think I ought to do, just at this minute."
-
-"With matrimony as the winning-post?"
-
-"You know I wish to marry Fanny Wyndham."
-
-"And the sooner the better--is that it?"
-
-"Of course. She'll be of age now, in a few days," replied Lord
-Ballindine.
-
-"Then I advise you to order a new blue coat, and to buy a
-wedding-ring."
-
-"Confusion!" cried Frank, stamping his foot; and turning away in a
-passion; and then he took up his hat, to rush out of the room, in which
-the latter part of the conversation had taken place.
-
-"Stop a minute, Frank," said Blake, "and don't be in a passion. What I
-said was only meant to show you how easy I think it is for you to marry
-Miss Wyndham if you choose."
-
-"Easy! and every soul at Grey Abbey turned against me, in consequence
-of my owning that brute of a horse! I'll go over there at once, and
-I'll show Lord Cashel that at any rate he shall not treat me like a
-child. As for Kilcullen, if he interferes with me or my name in any
-way, I'll--"
-
-"You'll what?--thrash him?"
-
-"Indeed, I'd like nothing better!"
-
-"And then shoot him--be tried by your peers--and perhaps hung; is that
-it?"
-
-"Oh, that's nonsense. I don't wish to fight any one, but I am not
-going to be insulted."
-
-"I don't think you are: I don't think there's the least chance of
-Kilcullen insulting you; he has too much worldly wisdom. But to come
-back to Miss Wyndham: if you really mean to marry her, and if, as I
-believe, she is really fond of you, Lord Cashel and all the family
-can't prevent it. She is probably angry that you have not been over
-there; he is probably irate at your staying here, and, not unlikely,
-has made use of her own anger to make her think that she has quarrelled
-with you; and hence Kilcullen's report."
-
-"And what shall I do now?"
-
-"Nothing to-day, but eat your dinner, and drink your wine. Ride over
-to-morrow, see Lord Cashel, and tell him--but do it quite coolly, if
-you can--exactly what you have heard, and how you have heard it, and
-beg him to assure Lord Kilcullen that he is mistaken in his notion that
-the match is off; and beg also that the report may not be repeated. Do
-this; and do it as if you were Lord Cashel's equal, not as if you were
-his son, or his servant. If you are collected and steady with him for
-ten minutes, you'll soon find that he will become bothered and
-unsteady."
-
-"That's very easy to say here, but it's not so easy to do there. You
-don't know him as I do: he's so sedate, and so slow, and so
-dull--especially sitting alone, as he does of a morning, in that large,
-dingy, uncomfortable, dusty-looking book-room of his. He measures his
-words like senna and salts, and their tone is as disagreeable."
-
-"Then do you drop out yours like prussic acid, and you'll beat him at
-his own game. Those are all externals, my dear fellow. When a man knows
-he has nothing within his head to trust to,--when he has neither sense
-nor genius, he puts on a wig, ties up his neck in a white choker, sits
-in a big chair, and frightens the world with his silence. Remember, if
-you were not a baby, he would not be a bugbear."
-
-"And should I not ask to see Fanny?"
-
-"By all means. Don't leave Grey Abbey without seeing and making your
-peace with Miss Wyndham. That'll be easy with you, because it's your
-_metier_. I own that with myself it would be the most difficult part of
-the morning's work. But don't ask to see her as a favour. When you've
-done with the lord (and don't let your conference be very long)--when
-you've done with the lord, tell him you'll say a word to the lady; and,
-whatever may have been his pre-determination, you'll find that, if
-you're cool, he'll be bothered, and he won't know how to refuse; and if
-he doesn't prevent you, I'm sure Miss Wyndham won't."
-
-"And if he asks about these wretched horses of mine?"
-
-"Don't let him talk more about your affairs than you can help; but, if
-he presses you--and he won't if you play your game well--tell him that
-you're quite aware your income won't allow you to keep up an
-establishment at the Curragh after you're married."
-
-"But about Brien Boru, and the Derby?"
-
-"Brien Boru! You might as well talk to him about your washing-bills!
-Don't go into particulars--stick to generals. He'll never ask you those
-questions unless he sees you shiver and shake like a half-whipped
-school-boy."
-
-After a great deal of confabulation, in which Dot Blake often repeated
-his opinion of Lord Ballindine's folly in not rejoicing at an
-opportunity of breaking off the match, it was determined that Frank
-should ride over the next morning, and do exactly what his friend
-proposed. If, however, one might judge from his apparent dread of the
-interview with Lord Cashel, there was but little chance of his
-conducting it with the coolness or assurance insisted on by Dot. The
-probability was, that when the time did come, he would, as Blake said,
-shiver and shake like a half-whipped school-boy.
-
-"And what will you do when you're married, Frank?" said Blake; "for I'm
-beginning to think the symptoms are strong, and you'll hardly get out
-of it now."
-
-"Do! why, I suppose I'll do much the same as others--have two children,
-and live happy ever afterwards."
-
-"I dare say you're right about the two children, only you might say two
-dozen; but as to the living happy, that's more problematical. What do
-you mean to eat and drink?"
-
-"Eggs--potatoes and bacon--buttermilk, and potheen [21]. It's odd if I
-can't get plenty of them in Mayo, if I've nothing better."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 21: pootheen--illegal (untaxed) whiskey, "moonshine"]
-
-"I suppose you will, Frank; but bacon won't go down well after venison;
-and a course of claret is a bad preparative for potheen punch. You're
-not the man to live, with a family, on a small income, and what the
-d----l you'll do I don't know. You'll fortify Kelly's Court--that'll be
-the first step."
-
-"Is it against the Repealers?"
-
-"Faith, no; you'll join them, of course: but against the sub-sheriff,
-and his officers--an army much more likely to crown their enterprises
-with success."
-
-"You seem to forget, Dot, that, after all, I'm marrying a girl with
-quite as large a fortune as I had any right to expect."
-
-"The limit to your expectations was only in your own modesty; the
-less you had a right--in the common parlance--to expect, the more
-you wanted, and the more you ought to have looked for. Say that Miss
-Wyndham's fortune clears a thousand a year of your property, you would
-never be able to get along on what you'd have. No; I'll tell you what
-you'll do. You'll shut up Kelly's Court, raise the rents, take a
-moderate house in London; and Lord Cashel, when his party are in, will
-get you made a court stick of, and you'll lead just such a life as your
-grandfather. If it's not very glorious, at any rate it's a useful
-kind of life. I hope Miss Wyndham will like it. You'll have to christen
-your children Ernest and Albert, and that sort of thing; that's the
-worst of it; and you'll never be let to sit down, and that's a bore.
-But you've strong legs. It would never do for me. I could never stand
-out a long tragedy in Drury Lane, with my neck in a stiff white choker,
-and my toes screwed into tight dress boots. I'd sooner be a porter
-myself, for he can go to bed when the day's over."
-
-"You're very witty, Dot; but you know I'm the last man in Ireland, not
-excepting yourself, to put up with that kind of thing. Whatever I may
-have to live on, I shall live in my own country, and on my own
-property."
-
-"Very well; if you won't be a gold stick, there's the other
-alternative: fortify Kelly's Court, and prepare for the sheriff's
-officers. Of the two, there's certainly more fun in it; and you can go
-out with the harriers on a Sunday afternoon, and live like a 'ra'al
-O'Kelly of the ould times';--only the punch'll kill you in about ten
-years."
-
-"Go on, Dot, go on. You want to provoke me, but you won't. I wonder
-whether you'd bear it as well, if I told you you'd die a broken-down
-black-leg, without a friend or a shilling to bless you."
-
-"I don't think I should, because I should know that you were
-threatening me with a fate which my conduct and line of life would not
-warrant any one in expecting."
-
-"Upon my word, then, I think there's quite as much chance of that as
-there is of my getting shut up by bailiffs in Kelly's Court, and dying
-drunk. I'll bet you fifty pounds I've a better account at my bankers
-than you have in ten years."
-
-"Faith, I'll not take it. It'll be hard work getting fifty pounds out
-of you, then! In the meantime, come and play a game of billiards before
-dinner."
-
-To this Lord Ballindine consented, and they adjourned to the
-billiard-room; but, before they commenced playing, Blake declared that
-if the names of Lord Cashel or Miss Wyndham were mentioned again that
-evening, he should retreat to his own room, and spend the hours by
-himself; so, for the rest of that day, Lord Ballindine was again driven
-back upon Brien Boru and the Derby for conversation, as Dot was too
-close about his own stable to talk much of his own horses and their
-performances, except when he was doing so with an eye to business.
-
-
-
-
-XI.  THE EARL OF CASHEL
-
-
-About two o'clock on the following morning, Lord Ballindine set off for
-Grey Abbey, on horseback, dressed with something more than ordinary
-care, and with a considerable palpitation about his heart. He hardly
-knew, himself, what or whom he feared, but he knew that he was afraid
-of something. He had a cold, sinking sensation within him, and he felt
-absolutely certain that he should be signally defeated in his present
-mission. He had plenty of what is usually called courage; had his
-friend recommended him instantly to call out Lord Kilcullen and shoot
-him, and afterwards any number of other young men who might express a
-thought in opposition to his claim on Miss Wyndham's hand, he would
-have set about it with the greatest readiness and aptitude; but he knew
-he could not baffle the appalling solemnity of Lord Cashel, in his own
-study. Frank was not so very weak a man as he would appear to be when
-in the society of Blake. He unfortunately allowed Blake to think for
-him in many things, and he found a convenience in having some one to
-tell him what to do; but he was, in most respects, a better, and in
-some, even a wiser man than his friend. He often felt that the kind of
-life he was leading--contracting debts which he could not pay, and
-spending his time in pursuits which were not really congenial to him,
-was unsatisfactory and discreditable: and it was this very feeling, and
-the inability to defend that which he knew to be wrong and foolish,
-which made him so certain that he would not be able successfully to
-persist in his claim to Miss Wyndham's hand in opposition to the trite
-and well-weighed objections, which he knew her guardian would put
-forward. He consoled himself, however, with thinking that, at any rate,
-they could not prevent his seeing her; and he was quite sanguine as to
-her forgiveness, if he but got a fair opportunity of asking it. And
-when that was obtained, why should the care for any one? Fanny would be
-of age, and her own mistress, in a few days, and all the solemn earls
-in England, and Ireland too, could not then prevent her marrying whom
-and when she liked.
-
-He thought a great deal on all his friend had said to his future
-poverty; but then, his ideas and Blake's were very different about
-life. Blake's idea of happiness was, the concentrating of every thing
-into a focus for his own enjoyment; whereas he, Frank, had only had
-recourse to dissipation and extravagance, because he had nothing to
-make home pleasant to him. If he once had Fanny Wyndham installed as
-Lady Ballindine, at Kelly's Court, he was sure he could do his duty as
-a country gentleman, and live on his income, be it what it might, not
-only without grumbling, but without wishing for anything more. He
-was fond of his country, his name, and his countrymen: he was fully
-convinced of his folly in buying race-horses, and in allowing himself
-to be dragged on the turf: he would sell Brien Boru, and the other two
-Irish chieftains, for what they would fetch, and show Fanny and her
-guardian that he was in earnest in his intention of reforming. Blake
-might laugh at him if he liked; but he would not stay to be laughed
-at. He felt that Handicap Lodge was no place for him; and besides, why
-should he bear Dot's disagreeable sarcasms? It was not the part of a
-real friend to say such cutting things as he continually did. After
-all, Lord Cashel would be a safer friend, or, at any rate, adviser;
-and, instead of trying to defeat him by coolness or insolence, he would
-at once tell him of all his intentions, explain to him exactly how
-matters stood, and prove his good resolutions by offering to take
-whatever steps the earl might recommend about the horses. This final
-determination made him easier in this mind, and, as he entered the
-gates of Grey Abbey Park, he was tolerably comfortable, trusting to his
-own good resolutions, and the effect which he felt certain the
-expression of them must have on Lord Cashel.
-
-Grey Abbey is one of the largest but by no means one of the most
-picturesque demesnes in Ireland. It is situated in the county of
-Kildare, about two miles from the little town of Kilcullen, in a
-flat, uninteresting, and not very fertile country. The park itself is
-extensive and tolerably well wooded, but it wants water and undulation,
-and is deficient of any object of attraction, except that of size and
-not very magnificent timber. I suppose, years ago, there was an Abbey
-here, or near the spot, but there is now no vestige of it remaining. In
-a corner of the demesne there are standing the remains of one of those
-strong, square, ugly castles, which, two centuries since, were the real
-habitations of the landed proprietors of the country, and many of which
-have been inhabited even to a much later date. They now afford the
-strongest record of the apparently miserable state of life which even
-the favoured of the land then endured, and of the numberless domestic
-comforts which years and skill have given us, apt as we are to look
-back with fond regret to the happy, by-gone days of past periods.
-
-This old castle, now used as a cow-shed, is the only record of
-antiquity at Grey Abbey; and yet the ancient family of the Greys have
-lived there for centuries. The first of them who possessed property in
-Ireland, obtained in the reign of Henry II, grants of immense tracts of
-land, stretching through Wicklow, Kildare, and the Queen's and King's
-Counties; and, although his descendants have been unable to retain,
-through the various successive convulsions which have taken place in
-the interior of Ireland since that time, anything like an eighth of
-what the family once pretended to claim, the Earl of Cashel, their
-present representative, has enough left to enable him to consider
-himself a very great man.
-
-The present mansion, built on the site of that in which the family had
-lived till about seventy years since, is, like the grounds, large,
-commodious, and uninteresting. It is built of stone, which appears as
-if it had been plastered over, is three stories high, and the windows
-are all of the same size, and at regular intervals. The body of the
-house looks like a huge, square, Dutch old lady, and the two wings
-might be taken for her two equally fat, square, Dutch daughters.
-Inside, the furniture is good, strong, and plain. There are plenty of
-drawing-rooms, sitting-rooms, bed-rooms, and offices; a small gallery
-of very indifferent paintings, and a kitchen, with an excellent
-kitchen-range, and patent boilers of every shape.
-
-Considering the nature of the attractions, it is somewhat strange that
-Lord Cashel should have considered it necessary to make it generally
-known that the park might be seen any day between the hours of nine and
-six, and the house, on Tuesdays and Fridays between the hours of eleven
-and four. Yet such is the case, and the strangeness of this proceeding
-on his part is a good deal diminished by the fact that persons,
-either induced by Lord Cashel's good nature, or thinking that any big
-house must be worth seeing, very frequently pay half-a-crown to the
-housekeeper for the privilege of being dragged through every room in
-the mansion.
-
-There is a bed there, in which the Regent slept when in Ireland, and a
-room which was tenanted by Lord Normanby, when Lord Lieutenant. There
-is, moreover, a satin counterpane, which was made by the lord's aunt,
-and a snuff-box which was given to the lord's grandfather by Frederick
-the Great. These are the lions of the place, and the gratification
-experienced by those who see them is, no doubt, great; but I doubt if
-it equals the annoyance and misery to which they are subjected in being
-obliged to pass one unopened door--that of the private room of Lady
-Selina, the only daughter of the earl at present unmarried.
-
-It contains only a bed, and the usual instruments of a lady's toilet;
-but Lady Selina does not choose to have it shown, and it has become
-invested, in the eyes of the visitors, with no ordinary mystery. Many a
-petitionary whisper is addressed to the housekeeper on the subject, but
-in vain; and, consequently, the public too often leave Grey Abbey
-dissatisfied.
-
-As Lord Ballindine rode through the gates, and up the long approach
-to the house, he was so satisfied of the wisdom of his own final
-resolution, and of the successful termination of his embassy under such
-circumstances, that he felt relieved of the uncomfortable sensation of
-fear which had oppressed him; and it was only when the six-foot high,
-powdered servant told him, with a very solemn face, that the earl was
-alone in the book-room--the odious room he hated so much--that he began
-again to feel a little misgiving. However, there was nothing left
-for him now, so he gave up his horse to the groom, and followed the
-sober-faced servant into the book-room.
-
-Lord Cashel was a man about sixty-three, with considerable external
-dignity of appearance, though without any personal advantage, either in
-face, figure, or manner. He had been an earl, with a large income, for
-thirty years; and in that time he had learned to look collected, even
-when his ideas were confused; to keep his eye steady, and to make a few
-words go a long way. He had never been intemperate, and was, therefore,
-strong and hale for his years,--he had not done many glaringly foolish
-things, and, therefore, had a character for wisdom and judgment. He had
-run away with no man's wife, and, since his marriage, had seduced no
-man's daughter; he was, therefore, considered a moral man. He was not
-so deeply in debt as to have his affairs known to every one; and hence
-was thought prudent. And, as he lived in his own house, with his own
-wife, paid his servants and labourers their wages regularly, and nodded
-in church for two hours every Sunday, he was thought a good man. Such
-were his virtues; and by these negative qualities--this _vis inertiae_,
-he had acquired, and maintained, a considerable influence in the
-country.
-
-When Lord Ballindine's name was announced, he slowly rose, and, just
-touching the tip of Frank's fingers, by way of shaking hands with him,
-hoped he had the pleasure of seeing him well.
-
-The viscount hoped the same of the earl--and of the ladies. This
-included the countess and Lady Selina, as well as Fanny, and was,
-therefore, not a particular question; but, having hoped this, and the
-earl remaining silent, he got confused, turned red, hummed and hawed
-a little, sat down, and then, endeavouring to drown his confusion in
-volubility, began talking quickly about his anxiety to make final
-arrangements concerning matters, which, of course, he had most deeply
-at heart; and, at last, ran himself fairly aground, from not knowing
-whether, under the present circumstances, he ought to speak of his
-affianced to her guardian as "Fanny", or "Miss Wyndham".
-
-When he had quite done, and was dead silent, and had paused
-sufficiently long to assure the earl that he was going to say nothing
-further just at present, the great man commenced his answer.
-
-"This is a painful subject, my lord--most peculiarly painful at the
-present time; but, surely, after all that has passed--but especially
-after what has _not_ passed"--Lord Cashel thought this was a dead
-hit--"you cannot consider your engagement with Miss Wyndham to be still
-in force?"
-
-"Good gracious!--and why not, my lord? I am ready to do anything her
-friends--in fact I came solely, this morning, to consult yourself,
-about--I'm sure Fanny herself can't conceive the engagement to
-be broken off. Of course, if Miss Wyndham wishes it--but I can't
-believe--I can't believe--if it's about the horses, Lord Cashel, upon
-my word, I'm ready to sell them to-day."
-
-This was not very dignified in poor Frank, and to tell the truth, he
-was completely bothered. Lord Cashel looked so more than ordinarily
-glum; had he been going to put on a black cap and pass sentence of
-death, or disinherit his eldest son, he could not have looked more
-stern or more important. Frank's lack of dignity added to his, and made
-him feel immeasurably superior to any little difficulty which another
-person might have felt in making the communication he was going to
-make. He was really quite in a solemn good humour. Lord Ballindine's
-confusion was so flattering.
-
-"I can assure you, my lord, Miss Wyndham calls for no such sacrifice,
-nor do I. There was a time when, as her guardian, I ventured to
-hint--and I own I was taking a liberty, a fruitless liberty, in doing
-so--that I thought your remaining on the turf was hardly prudent.
-But I can assure you, with all kindly feeling--with no approach to
-animosity--that I will not offend in a similar way again. I hear,
-by mere rumour, that you have extended your operations to the other
-kingdom. I hope I have not been the means of inducing you to do so;
-but, advice, if not complied with, often gives a bias in an opposite
-direction. With regard to Miss Wyndham, I must express--and I really
-had thought it was unnecessary to do so, though it was certainly my
-intention, as it was Miss Wyndham's wish, that I should have written
-to you formally on the subject--but your own conduct--excuse me, Lord
-Ballindine--your own evident indifference, and continued, I fear I must
-call it, dissipation--and your, as I considered, unfortunate selection
-of acquaintance, combined with the necessary diminution of that
-attachment which I presume Miss Wyndham once felt for you--necessary,
-inasmuch as it was, as far as I understand, never of a sufficiently
-ardent nature to outlive the slights--indeed, my lord, I don't wish to
-offend you, or hurt your feelings--but, I must say, the slights which
-it encountered--." Here the earl felt that his sentence was a little
-confused, but the viscount looked more so; and, therefore, not at
-all abashed by the want of a finish to his original proposition, he
-continued glibly enough:
-
-"In short, in considering all the features of the case, I thought
-the proposed marriage a most imprudent one; and, on questioning Miss
-Wyndham as to her feelings, I was, I must own, gratified to learn that
-she agreed with me; indeed, she conceived that your conduct gave ample
-proof, my lord, of your readiness to be absolved from your engagement;
-pardon me a moment, my lord--as I said before, I still deemed it
-incumbent on me, and on my ward, that I, as her guardian, should give
-you an absolute and written explanation of her feelings:--that would
-have been done yesterday, and this most unpleasant meeting would have
-been spared to both of us, but for the unexpected--Did you hear of the
-occurrence which has happened in Miss Wyndham's family, my lord?"
-
-"Occurrence? No, Lord Cashel; I did not hear of any especial
-occurrence."
-
-There had been a peculiarly solemn air about Lord Cashel during the
-whole of the interview, which deepened into quite funereal gloom as he
-asked the last question; but he was so uniformly solemn, that this had
-not struck Lord Ballindine. Besides, an appearance of solemnity agreed
-so well with Lord Cashel's cast of features and tone of voice, that a
-visage more lengthened, and a speech somewhat slower than usual, served
-only to show him off as so much the more clearly identified by his own
-characteristics. Thus a man who always wears a green coat does not
-become remarkable by a new green coat; he is only so much the more than
-ever, the man in the green coat.
-
-Lord Ballindine, therefore, answered the question without the
-appearance of that surprise which Lord Cashel expected he would feel,
-if he had really not yet heard of the occurrence about to be related to
-him. The earl, therefore, made up his mind, as indeed he had nearly
-done before, that Frank knew well what was going to be told him, though
-it suited his purpose to conceal his knowledge. He could not, however,
-give his young brother nobleman the lie; and he was, therefore,
-constrained to tell his tale, as if to one to whom it was unknown. He
-was determined, however, though he could not speak out plainly, to let
-Frank see that he was not deceived by his hypocrisy, and that he, Lord
-Cashel, was well aware, not only that the event about to be told had
-been known at Handicap Lodge, but that the viscount's present visit to
-Grey Abbey had arisen out of that knowledge.
-
-Lord Ballindine, up to this moment, was perfectly ignorant of this
-event, and it is only doing justice to him to say that, had he heard of
-it, it would at least have induced him to postpone his visit for some
-time. Lord Cashel paused for a few moments, looking at Frank in a most
-diplomatic manner, and then proceeded to unfold his budget.
-
-"I am much surprised that you should not have heard of it. The
-distressing news reached Grey Abbey yesterday, and must have been well
-known in different circles in Dublin yesterday morning. Considering the
-great intercourse between Dublin and the Curragh, I wonder you can have
-been left so long in ignorance of a circumstance so likely to be widely
-discussed, and which at one time might have so strongly affected your
-own interests." Lord Cashel again paused, and looked hard at Frank. He
-flattered himself that he was reading his thoughts; but he looked as if
-he had detected a spot on the other's collar, and wanted to see whether
-it was ink or soot.
-
-Lord Ballindine was, however, confounded. When the earl spoke of
-"a circumstance so likely to be widely discussed", Mat Tierney's
-conversation recurred to him, and Lord Kilcullen's public declaration
-that Fanny Wyndham's match was off.--It was certainly odd for Lord
-Cashel to call this an occurrence in Miss Wyndham's family, but then,
-he had a round-about way of saying everything.
-
-"I say," continued the earl, after a short pause, "that I cannot but be
-surprised that an event of so much importance, of so painful a nature,
-and, doubtless, already so publicly known, should not before this have
-reached the ears of one to whom, I presume, Miss Wyndham's name was not
-always wholly indifferent. But, as you have not heard it, my lord, I
-will communicate it to you," and again he paused, as though expecting
-another assurance of Lord Ballindine's ignorance.
-
-"Why, my lord," said Frank, "I did hear a rumour, which surprised me
-very much, but I could not suppose it to be true. To tell the truth, it
-was very much in consequence of what I heard that I came to Grey Abbey
-to-day."
-
-It was now Lord Cashel's turn to be confounded. First, to deny that he
-had heard anything about it--and then immediately to own that he had
-heard it, and had been induced to renew his visits to Grey Abbey in
-consequence! Just what he, in his wisdom, had suspected was the case.
-But how could Lord Ballindine have the face to own it?
-
-I must, however, tell the reader the event of which Frank was ignorant,
-and which, it appears, Lord Cashel is determined not to communicate to
-him.
-
-Fanny Wyndham's father had held a governorship, or some golden
-appointment in the golden days of India, and consequently had died
-rich. He left eighty thousand pounds to his son, who was younger than
-Fanny, and twenty to his daughter. His son had lately been put into the
-Guards, but he was not long spared to enjoy his sword and his uniform.
-He died, and his death had put his sister in possession of his money;
-and Lord Cashel thought that, though Frank might slight twenty thousand
-pounds, he would be too glad to be allowed to remain the accepted
-admirer of a hundred thousand.
-
-"I thought you must have heard it, my lord," resumed the senior, as
-soon as he had collected his shreds of dignity, which Frank's open
-avowal had somewhat scattered, "I felt certain you must have heard it,
-and you will, I am sure, perceive that this is no time for you--excuse
-me if I use a word which may appear harsh--it is no time for any one,
-not intimately connected with Miss Wyndham by ties of family, to
-intrude upon her sorrow."
-
-Frank was completely bothered. He thought that if she were so
-sorrowful, if she grieved so deeply at the match being broken off, that
-was just the reason why he should see her. After all, it was rather
-flattering to himself to hear of her sorrows; dear Fanny! was she so
-grieved that she was forced to part from him?
-
-"But, Lord Cashel," he said, "I am ready to do whatever you please.
-I'll take any steps you'll advise. But I really cannot see why I'm to
-be told that the engagement between me and Miss Wyndham is off, without
-hearing any reason from herself. I'll make any sacrifice you please, or
-she requires; I'm sure she was attached to me, and she cannot have
-overcome that affection so soon."
-
-"I have already said that we require--Miss Wyndham requires--no
-sacrifice from you. The time for sacrifice is past; and I do not think
-her affection was of such a nature as will long prey on her spirits."
-
-"My affection for her is, I can assure you--"
-
-"Pray excuse me--but I think this is hardly the time either to talk of,
-or to show, your affection. Had it been proved to be of a lasting, I
-fear I must say, a sincere nature, it would now have been most valued.
-I will leave yourself to say whether this was the case."
-
-"And so you mean to say, Lord Cashel, that I cannot see Miss Wyndham?"
-
-"Assuredly, Lord Ballindine. And I must own, that I hardly appreciate
-your delicacy in asking to do so at the present moment."
-
-There was something very hard in this. The match was to be broken off
-without any notice to him; and when he requested, at any rate, to hear
-this decision from the mouth of the only person competent to make it,
-he was told that it was indelicate for him to wish to do so. This put
-his back up.
-
-"Well, my lord," he said with some spirit, "Miss Wyndham is at present
-your ward, and in your house, and I am obliged to postpone the exercise
-of the right, to which, at least, I am entitled, of hearing her
-decision from her own mouth. I cannot think that she expects I should
-be satisfied with such an answer as I have now received. I shall write
-to her this evening, and shall expect at any rate the courtesy of an
-answer from herself."
-
-"My advice to my ward will be, not to write to you; at any rate for the
-present. I presume, my lord, you cannot doubt my word that Miss Wyndham
-chooses to be released from an engagement, which I must say your own
-conduct renders it highly inexpedient for her to keep."
-
-"I don't doubt your word, of course, Lord Cashel; but such being the
-case, I think Miss Wyndham might at least tell me so herself."
-
-"I should have thought, Lord Ballindine, that you would have felt
-that the sudden news of a dearly loved brother's death, was more than
-sufficient to excuse Miss Wyndham from undergoing an interview which,
-even under ordinary circumstances, would be of very doubtful
-expediency."
-
-"Her brother's death! Good gracious! Is Harry Wyndham dead!"
-
-Frank was so truly surprised--so effectually startled by the news,
-which he now for the first time heard, that, had his companion
-possessed any real knowledge of human nature, he would at once have
-seen that his astonishment was not affected. But he had none, and,
-therefore, went on blundering in his own pompous manner.
-
-"Yes, my lord, he is dead. I understood you to say that you had already
-heard it; and, unless my ears deceived me, you explained that his
-demise was the immediate cause of your present visit. I cannot,
-however, go so far as to say that I think you have exercised a sound
-discretion in the matter. In expressing such an opinion, however, I am
-far from wishing to utter anything which may be irritating or offensive
-to your feelings."
-
-"Upon my word then, I never heard a word about it till this moment!
-Poor Harry! And is Fanny much cut up?"
-
-"Miss Wyndham is much afflicted."
-
-"I wouldn't for worlds annoy her, or press on her at such a moment.
-Pray tell her, Lord Cashel, how deeply I feel her sorrows: pray tell
-her this, with my kindest--best compliments."
-
-This termination was very cold--but so was Lord Cashel's face. His
-lordship had also risen from his chair; and Frank saw it was intended
-that the interview should end. But he would now have been glad to stay.
-He wanted to ask a hundred questions;--how the poor lad had died?
-whether he had been long ill?--whether it had been expected? But he saw
-that he must go; so he rose and putting out his hand which Lord Cashel
-just touched, he said,
-
-"Good bye, my lord. I trust, after a few months are gone by, you may
-see reason to alter the opinion you have expressed respecting your
-ward. Should I not hear from you before then, I shall again do myself
-the honour of calling at Grey Abbey; but I will write to Miss Wyndham
-before I do so."
-
-Lord Cashel had the honour of wishing Lord Ballindine a very good
-morning, and of bowing him to the door; and so the interview ended.
-
-
-
-
-XII.  FANNY WYNDHAM
-
-
-When Lord Cashel had seen Frank over the mat which lay outside his
-study door, and that there was a six foot servitor to open any other
-door through which he might have to pass, he returned to his seat, and,
-drawing his chair close to the fire, began to speculate on Fanny and
-her discarded lover.
-
-He was very well satisfied with himself, and with his own judgment and
-firmness in the late conversation. It was very evident that Frank had
-heard of Harry Wyndham's death, and of Fanny's great accession of
-wealth; that he had immediately determined that the heiress was no
-longer to be neglected, and that he ought to strike while the iron was
-hot: hence his visit to Grey Abbey. His pretended ignorance of the
-young man's death, when he found he could not see Miss Wyndham, was a
-ruse; but an old bird like Lord Cashel was not to be caught with chaff.
-And then, how indelicate of him to come and press his suit immediately
-after news of so distressing a nature had reached Miss Wyndham! How
-very impolitic, thought Lord Cashel, to show such a hurry to take
-possession of the fortune!--How completely he had destroyed his own
-game. And then, other thoughts passed through his mind. His ward had
-now one hundred thousand pounds clear, which was, certainly, a great
-deal of ready money. Lord Cashel had no younger sons; but his heir,
-Lord Kilcullen, was an expensive man, and owed, he did not exactly
-know, and was always afraid to ask, how much. He must marry soon, or he
-would be sure to go to the devil. He had been living with actresses and
-opera-dancers quite long enough for his own respectability; and, if he
-ever intended to be such a pattern to the country as his father, it was
-now time for him to settle down. And Lord Cashel bethought himself that
-if he could persuade his son to marry Fanny Wyndham and pay his debts
-with her fortune--(surely he couldn't owe more than a hundred thousand
-pounds?)--he would be able to give them a very handsome allowance to
-live on.
-
-To do Lord Cashel justice, we must say that he had fully determined
-that it was his duty to break off the match between Frank and his ward,
-before he heard of the accident which had so enriched her. And Fanny
-herself, feeling slighted and neglected--knowing how near to her her
-lover was, and that nevertheless he never came to see her--hearing
-his name constantly mentioned in connection merely with horses and
-jockeys--had been induced to express her acquiescence in her guardian's
-views, and to throw poor Frank overboard. In all this the earl had been
-actuated by no mercenary views, as far as his own immediate family was
-concerned. He had truly and justly thought that Lord Ballindine, with
-his limited fortune and dissipated habits, was a bad match for his
-ward; and he had, consequently, done his best to break the engagement.
-There could, therefore, he thought, be nothing unfair in his taking
-advantage of the prudence which he had exercised on her behalf. He
-did not know, when he was persuading her to renounce Lord Ballindine,
-that, at that moment, her young, rich, and only brother, was lying
-at the point of death. He had not done it for his own sake, or Lord
-Kilcullen's; there could, therefore, be nothing unjust or ungenerous in
-their turning to their own account the two losses, that of her lover
-and her brother, which had fallen on Miss Wyndham at the same time. If
-he, as her guardian, would have been wrong to allow Lord Ballindine to
-squander her twenty thousands, he would be so much the more wrong to
-let him make ducks and drakes of five times as much. In this manner he
-quieted his conscience as to his premeditated absorption of his ward's
-fortune. It was true that Lord Kilcullen was a heartless roue, whereas
-Lord Ballindine was only a thoughtless rake; but then, Lord Kilcullen
-would be an earl, and a peer of parliament, and Lord Ballindine was
-only an Irish viscount. It was true that, in spite of her present
-anger, Fanny dearly loved Lord Ballindine, and was dearly loved by him;
-and that Lord Kilcullen was not a man to love or be loved; but then,
-the Kelly's Court rents--what were they to the Grey Abbey rents? Not
-a twentieth part of them! And, above all, Lord Kilcullen's vices were
-filtered through the cleansing medium of his father's partiality, and
-Lord Ballindine's faults were magnified by the cautious scruples of
-Fanny's guardian.
-
-The old man settled, therefore, in his own mind, that Fanny should be
-his dear daughter, and the only difficulty he expected to encounter was
-with his hopeful son. It did not occur to him that Fanny might object,
-or that she could be other than pleased with the arrangement. He
-determined, however, to wait a little before the tidings of her future
-destiny should be conveyed to her, although no time was to be lost in
-talking over the matter with Lord Kilcullen. In the meantime, it would
-be necessary for him to tell Fanny of Lord Ballindine's visit; and
-the wily peer was glad to think that she could not but be further
-disgusted at the hurry which her former lover had shown to renew his
-protestations of affection, as soon as the tidings of her wealth had
-reached him. However, he would say nothing on that head: he would
-merely tell her that Lord Ballindine had called, had asked to see her,
-and had been informed of her determination to see him no more.
-
-He sat, for a considerable time, musing over the fire, and
-strengthening his resolution; and then he stalked and strutted into the
-drawing-room, where the ladies were sitting, to make his communication
-to Miss Wyndham.
-
-Miss Wyndham, and her cousin, Lady Selina Grey, the only unmarried
-daughter left on the earl's hands, were together. Lady Selina was not
-in her _premiere jeunesse_ [22], and, in manner, face, and disposition,
-was something like her father: she was not, therefore, very charming;
-but his faults were softened down in her; and what was pretence in
-him, was, to a certain degree, real in her. She had a most exaggerated
-conception of her own station and dignity, and of what was due to her,
-and expected from her. Because her rank enabled her to walk out of a
-room before other women, she fancied herself better than them, and
-entitled to be thought better. She was plain, red-haired, and in no
-ways attractive; but she had refused the offer of a respectable country
-gentleman, because he was only a country gentleman, and then flattered
-herself that she owned the continuance of her maiden condition to her
-high station, which made her a fit match only for the most exalted
-magnates of the land. But she was true, industrious, and charitable;
-she worked hard to bring her acquirements to that pitch which she
-considered necessary to render her fit for her position; she truly
-loved her family, and tried hard to love her neighbours, in which she
-might have succeeded but for the immeasurable height from which she
-looked down on them. She listened, complacently, to all those serious
-cautions against pride, which her religion taught her, and considered
-that she was obeying its warnings, when she spoke condescendingly to
-those around her. She thought that condescension was humility, and that
-her self-exaltation was not pride, but a proper feeling of her own and
-her family's dignity.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 22: premiere jeunesse--(French) prime of youth]
-
-Fanny Wyndham was a very different creature. She, too, was proud, but
-her pride was of another, if not of a less innocent cast; she was proud
-of her own position; but it was as Fanny Wyndham, not as Lord Cashel's
-niece, or anybody's daughter. She had been brought out in the
-fashionable world, and liked, and was liked by, it; but she felt that
-she owed the character which three years had given her, to herself, and
-not to those around her. She stood as high as Lady Selina, though on
-very different grounds. Any undue familiarity would have been quite as
-impossible with one as with the other. Lady Selina chilled intruders to
-a distance; Fanny Wyndham's light burned with so warm a flame, that
-butterflies were afraid to trust their wings within its reach. She was
-neither so well read, nor so thoughtful on what she did read, as her
-friend; but she could turn what she learned to more account, for the
-benefit of others. The one, in fact, could please, and the other could
-not.
-
-Fanny Wyndham was above the usual height; but she did not look tall,
-for her figure was well-formed and round, and her bust full. She had
-dark-brown hair, which was never curled, but worn in plain braids,
-fastened at the back of her head, together with the long rich folds
-which were collected there under a simple comb. Her forehead was high,
-and beautifully formed, and when she spoke, showed the animation of her
-character. Her eyes were full and round, of a hazel colour, bright and
-soft when she was pleased, but full of pride and displeasure when her
-temper was ruffled, or her dignity offended. Her nose was slightly
-_retrousse_ [23], but not so much so as to give to her that pertness,
-of which it is usually the index. The line of her cheeks and chin
-was very lovely: it was this which encouraged her to comb back that
-luxuriant hair, and which gave the greatest charm to her face. Her
-mouth was large, too large for a beauty, and therefore she was not a
-regular beauty; but, were she talking to you, and willing to please
-you, you could hardly wish it to be less. I cannot describe the shade
-of her complexion, but it was rich and glowing; and, though she was not
-a brunette, I believe that in painting her portrait, an artist would
-have mixed more brown than other colours.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 23: retrousse--(French) turned-up]
-
-At the time of which I am now speaking, she was sitting, or rather
-lying, on a sofa, with her face turned towards her cousin, but her eyes
-fixed on vacancy. As might have been expected, she was thinking of her
-brother, and his sudden death; but other subjects crowded with that
-into her mind, and another figure shared with him her thoughts. She had
-been induced to give her guardian an unqualified permission to reject,
-in her name, any further intercourse with Frank; and though she had
-doubtless been induced to do so by the distressing consciousness that
-she had been slighted by him, she had cheated herself into the belief
-that prudence had induced her to do so. She felt that she was not
-fitted to be a poor man's wife, and that Lord Ballindine was as ill
-suited for matrimonial poverty. She had, therefore, induced herself to
-give him up; may-be she was afraid that if she delayed doing so, she
-might herself be given up. Now, however, the case was altered; though
-she sincerely grieved for her brother, she could not but recollect the
-difference which his death made in her own position; she was now a
-great heiress, and, were she to marry Lord Ballindine, if she did
-not make him a rich man, she would, at any rate, free him from all
-embarrassment.
-
-Besides, could she give him up now? now that she was rich? He would
-first hear of her brother's death and her wealth, and then would
-immediately be told that she had resolved to reject him. Could she bear
-that she should be subjected to the construction which would fairly be
-put upon her conduct, if she acted in this manner? And then, again, she
-felt that she loved him; and she did love him, more dearly than she
-was herself aware. She began to repent of her easy submission to her
-guardian's advice, and to think how she could best unsay what she had
-already said. She had lost her brother; could she afford also to lose
-her lover? She had had none she could really love but those two. And
-the tears again came to her eyes, and Lady Selina saw her, for the
-twentieth time that morning, turn her face to the back of the sofa,
-and heard her sob.
-
-Lady Selina was sitting at one of the windows, over her carpet-work
-frame. She had talked a great deal of sound sense to Fanny that
-morning, about her brother, and now prepared to talk some more.
-Preparatory to this, she threw back her long red curls from her face,
-and wiped her red nose, for it was February.
-
-"Fanny, you should occupy yourself, indeed you should, my dear. It's no
-use your attempting your embroidery, for your mind would still wander
-to him that is no more. You should read; indeed you should. Do go on
-with Gibbon. I'll fetch it for you, only tell me where you were."
-
-"I could not read, Selina; I could not think about what I read, more
-than about the work."
-
-"But you should try, Fanny,--the very attempt would be work to your
-mind: besides, you would be doing your duty. Could all your tears bring
-him back to you? Can all your sorrow again restore him to his friends?
-No! and you have great consolation, Fanny, in reflecting that your
-remembrance of your brother is mixed with no alloy. He had not lived
-to be contaminated by the heartless vices of that portion of the
-world into which he would probably have been thrown; he had not
-become dissipated--extravagant--and sensual. This should be a great
-consolation to you."
-
-It might be thought that Lady Selina was making sarcastic allusions
-to her own brother and to Fanny's lover; but she meant nothing of the
-kind. Her remarks were intended to be sensible, true, and consolatory;
-and they at any rate did no harm, for Fanny was thinking of something
-else before she had half finished her speech.
-
-They had both again been silent for a short time, when the door opened,
-and in came the earl. His usual pomposity of demeanour was somewhat
-softened by a lachrymose air, which, in respect to his ward's grief, he
-put on as he turned the handle of the door; and he walked somewhat more
-gently than usual into the room.
-
-"Well, Fanny, how are you now?" he said, as he crept up to her. "You
-shouldn't brood over these sad thoughts. Your poor brother has gone to
-a better world; we shall always think of him as one who had felt no
-sorrow, and been guilty of but few faults. He died before he had wasted
-his fortune and health, as he might have done:--this will always be a
-consolation."
-
-It was singular how nearly alike were the platitudes of the daughter
-and the father. The young man had not injured his name, or character,
-in the world, and had left his money behind him: and, therefore, his
-death was less grievous!
-
-Fanny did not answer, but she sat upright on the sofa as he came up to
-her--and he then sat down beside her.
-
-"Perhaps I'm wrong, Fanny, to speak to you on other subjects so soon
-after the sad event of which we heard last night; but, on the whole,
-I think it better to do so. It is good for you to rouse yourself, to
-exert yourself to think of other things; besides it will be a comfort
-to you to know that I have already done, what I am sure you strongly
-wished to have executed at once."
-
-It was not necessary for the guardian to say anything further to induce
-his ward to listen. She knew that he was going to speak about Lord
-Ballindine, and she was all attention.
-
-"I shall not trouble, you, Fanny, by speaking to you now, I hope?"
-
-"No;" said Fanny, with her heart palpitating. "If it's anything I ought
-to hear, it will be no trouble to me."
-
-"Why, my dear, I do think you ought to know, without loss of time that
-Lord Ballindine has been with me this morning."
-
-Fanny blushed up to her hair--not with shame, but with emotion as to
-what was coming next.
-
-"I have had a long conversation with him," continued the earl, "in the
-book-room, and I think I have convinced him that it is for your mutual
-happiness"--he paused, for he couldn't condescend to tell a lie; but in
-his glib, speechifying manner, he was nearly falling into one--"mutual
-happiness" was such an appropriate prudential phrase that he could not
-resist the temptation; but he corrected himself--"at least, I think I
-have convinced him that it is impossible that he should any longer look
-upon Miss Wyndham as his future wife."
-
-Lord Cashel paused for some mark of approbation. Fanny saw that she was
-expected to speak, and, therefore, asked whether Lord Ballindine was
-still in the house. She listened tremulously for his answer; for she
-felt that if her lover were to be rejected, he had a right, after what
-had passed between them, to expect that she should, in person, express
-her resolution to him. And yet, if she had to see him now, could she
-reject him? could she tell him that all the vows that had been made
-between them were to be as nothing? No! she could only fall on his
-shoulder, and weep in his arms. But Lord Cashel had managed better than
-that.
-
-"No, Fanny; neither he nor I, at the present moment, could expect
-you--could reasonably expect you, to subject yourself to anything so
-painful as an interview must now have been. Lord Ballindine has left
-the house--I hope, for the last time--at least, for many months."
-
-These words fell cold upon Fanny's ears, "Did he leave any--any message
-for me?"
-
-"Nothing of any moment; nothing which it can avail to communicate to
-you: he expressed his grief for your brother's death, and desired I
-should tell you how grieved he was that you should be so afflicted."
-
-"Poor Harry!" sobbed Fanny, for it was a relief to cry again, though
-her tears were more for her lover than her brother. "Poor Harry! they
-were very fond of each other. I'm sure he must have been sorry--I'm
-sure he'd feel it"--and she paused, and sobbed again--"He had heard of
-Harry's death, then?"
-
-When she said this, she had in her mind none of the dirty suspicion
-that had actuated Lord Cashel; but he guessed at her feelings by his
-own, and answered accordingly.
-
-"At first I understood him to say he had; but then, he seemed to wish
-to express that he had not. My impression, I own, is, that he must have
-heard of it; the sad news must have reached him."
-
-Fanny still did not understand the earl. The idea of her lover coming
-after her money immediately on her obtaining possession of it, never
-entered her mind; she thought of her wealth as far as it might have
-affected him, but did not dream of its altering his conduct towards
-her.
-
-"And did he seem unhappy about it?" she continued. "I am sure it would
-make him very unhappy. He could not have loved Harry better if he had
-been his brother," and then she blushed again through her tears, as she
-remembered that she had intended that they should be brothers.
-
-Lord Cashel did not say anything more on this head; he was fully
-convinced that Lord Ballindine only looked on the young man's death as
-a windfall which he might turn to his own advantage; but he thought it
-would be a little too strong to say so outright, just at present.
-
-"It will be a comfort for you to know that this matter is now settled,"
-continued the earl, "and that no one can attach the slightest blame to
-you in the matter. Lord Ballindine has shown himself so very imprudent,
-so very unfit, in every way, for the honour you once intended him, that
-no other line of conduct was open to you than that which you have
-wisely pursued."
-
-This treading on the fallen was too much for Fanny. "I have no right
-either to speak or to think ill of him," said she, through her tears;
-"and if any one is ill-treated in the matter it is he. But did he not
-ask to see me?"
-
-"Surely, Fanny, you would not, at the present moment, have wished to
-see him!"
-
-"Oh, no; it is a great relief, under all the circumstances, not
-having to do so. But was he contented? I should be glad that he were
-satisfied--that he shouldn't think I had treated him harshly, or
-rudely. Did he appear as if he wished to see me again?"
-
-"Why, he certainly did ask for a last interview--which, anticipating
-your wishes, I have refused."
-
-"But was he satisfied? Did he appear to think that he had been badly
-treated?"
-
-"Rejected lovers," answered the earl with a stately smile, "seldom
-express much satisfaction with the terms of their rejection; but I
-cannot say that Lord Ballindine testified any strong emotion." He rose
-from the sofa as he said this, and then, intending to clinch the nail,
-added as he went to the door--"to tell the truth, Fanny, I think Lord
-Ballindine is much more eager for an alliance with your fair self now,
-than he was a few days back, when he could never find a moment's
-time to leave his horses, and his friend Mr Blake, either to see his
-intended wife, or to pay Lady Cashel the usual courtesy of a morning
-visit." He then opened the door, and, again closing it, added--"I
-think, however, Fanny, that what has now passed between us will secure
-you from any further annoyance from him."
-
-Lord Cashel, in this last speech, had greatly overshot his mark; his
-object had been to make the separation between his ward and her lover
-permanent; and, hitherto, he had successfully appealed to her pride and
-her judgment. Fanny had felt Lord Cashel to be right, when he told her
-that she was neglected, and that Frank was dissipated, and in debt. She
-knew she should be unhappy as the wife of a poor nobleman, and she felt
-that it would break her proud heart to be jilted herself. She had,
-therefore, though unwillingly, still entirely agreed with her, guardian
-as to the expediency of breaking off, the match; and, had Lord Cashel
-been judicious, he might have confirmed her in this resolution; but his
-last thunderbolt, which had been intended to crush Lord Ballindine, had
-completely recoiled upon himself. Fanny now instantly understood the
-allusion, and, raising her face, which was again resting on her hands,
-looked at him with an indignant glance through her tears.
-
-Lord Cashel, however, had left the room without observing the
-indignation expressed in Fanny's eyes; but she was indignant; she
-knew Frank well enough to be sure that he had come to Grey Abbey that
-morning with no such base motives as those ascribed to him. He might
-have heard of Harry's death, and come there to express his sorrow, and
-offer that consolation which she felt she could accept from him sooner
-than from any living creature:--or, he might have been ignorant of it
-altogether; but that he should come there to press his suit because her
-brother was dead--immediately after his death--was not only impossible;
-but the person who could say it was possible, must be false and untrue
-to her. Her uncle could not have believed it himself: he had basely
-pretended to believe it, that he might widen the breach which he had
-made.
-
-Fanny was alone, in the drawing-room--for her cousin had left it as
-soon as her father began to talk about Lord Ballindine, and she sat
-there glowering through her tears for a long time. Had Lord Ballindine
-been able to know all her thoughts at this moment, he would have felt
-little doubt as to the ultimate success of his suit.
-
-
-
-
-XIII.  FATHER AND SON
-
-
-Lord Cashel firmly believed, when he left the room, that he had shown
-great tact in discovering Frank's mercenary schemes, and in laying them
-open before Fanny; and that she had firmly and finally made up her mind
-to have nothing more to do with him. He had not long been re-seated in
-his customary chair in the book-room, before he began to feel a certain
-degree of horror at the young lord's baseness, and to think how
-worthily he had executed his duty as a guardian, in saving Miss Wyndham
-from so sordid a suitor. From thinking of his duties as a guardian, his
-mind, not unnaturally, recurred to those which were incumbent on him
-as a father, and here nothing disturbed his serenity. It is true that,
-from an appreciation of the lustre which would reflect back upon
-himself from allowing his son to become a decidedly fashionable young
-man, he had encouraged him in extravagance, dissipation, and heartless
-worldliness; he had brought him up to be supercilious, expensive,
-unprincipled, and useless. But then, he was gentlemanlike, dignified,
-and sought after; and now, the father reflected, with satisfaction,
-that, if he could accomplish his well-conceived scheme, he would pay
-his son's debts with his ward's fortune, and, at the same time, tie
-him down to some degree of propriety and decorum, by a wife. Lord
-Kilcullen, when about to marry, would be obliged to cashier his
-opera-dancers and their expensive crews; and, though he might not leave
-the turf altogether, when married he would gradually be drawn out of
-turf society, and would doubtless become a good steady family nobleman,
-like his father. Why, he--Lord Cashel himself--wise, prudent, and
-respectable as he was--example as he knew himself to be to all peers,
-English, Irish, and Scotch,--had had his horses, and his indiscretions,
-when he was young. And then he stroked the calves of his legs, and
-smiled grimly; for the memory of his juvenile vices was pleasant to
-him.
-
-Lord Cashel thought, as he continued to reflect on the matter, that
-Lord Ballindine was certainly a sordid schemer; but that his son was a
-young man of whom he had just reason to be proud, and who was worthy
-of a wife in the shape of a hundred thousand pounds. And then, he
-congratulated himself on being the most anxious of guardians and the
-best of fathers; and, with these comfortable reflections, the worthy
-peer strutted off, through his ample doors, up his lofty stairs, and
-away through his long corridors, to dress for dinner. You might have
-heard his boots creaking till he got inside his dressing-room, but you
-must have owned that they did so with a most dignified cadence.
-
-It was pleasant enough, certainly, planning all these things; but there
-would be some little trouble in executing them. In the first place,
-Lord Kilcullen--though a very good son, on the whole, as the father
-frequently remarked to himself--was a little fond of having a will of
-his own, and may-be, might object to dispense with his dancing-girls.
-And though there was, unfortunately, but little doubt that the money
-was indispensably necessary to him, it was just possible that he might
-insist on having the cash without his cousin. However, the proposal
-must be made, and, as the operations necessary to perfect the marriage
-would cause some delay, and the money would certainly be wanted as soon
-as possible, no time was to be lost. Lord Kilcullen was, accordingly,
-summoned to Grey Abbey; and, as he presumed his attendance was required
-for the purpose of talking over some method of raising the wind, he
-obeyed the summons.--I should rather have said of raising a storm, for
-no gentle puff would serve to waft him through his present necessities.
-
-Down he came, to the great delight of his mother, who thought him
-by far the finest young man of the day, though he usually slighted,
-snubbed, and ridiculed her--and of his sister, who always hailed with
-dignified joy the return of the eldest scion of her proud family to the
-ancestral roof. The earl was also glad to find that no previous
-engagement detained him; that is, that he so far sacrificed his
-own comfort as to leave Tattersall's and the _Figuranti_ of the
-Opera-House, to come all the way to Grey Abbey, in the county of
-Kildare. But, though the earl was glad to see his son, he was still a
-little consternated: the business interview could not be postponed,
-as it was not to be supposed that Lord Kilcullen would stay long at
-Grey Abbey during the London season; and the father had yet hardly
-sufficiently crammed himself for the occasion. Besides, the pressure
-from without must have been very strong to have produced so immediate a
-compliance with a behest not uttered in a very peremptory manner, or,
-generally speaking, to a very obedient child.
-
-On the morning after his arrival, the earl was a little uneasy in his
-chair during breakfast. It was rather a sombre meal, for Fanny had by
-no means recovered her spirits, nor did she appear to be in the way to
-do so. The countess tried to chat a little to her son, but he hardly
-answered her; and Lady Selina, though she was often profound, was never
-amusing. Lord Cashel made sundry attempts at general conversation, but
-as often failed. It was, at last, however, over; and the father
-requested the son to come with him into the book-room.
-
-When the fire was poked, and the chairs were drawn together over the
-rug, there were no further preliminaries which could be decently
-introduced, and the earl was therefore forced to commence.
-
-"Well, Kilcullen, I'm glad you're come to Grey Abbey. I'm afraid,
-however, we shan't induce you to stay with us long, so it's as well
-perhaps to settle our business at once. You would, however, greatly
-oblige your mother, and I'm sure I need not add, myself, if you could
-make your arrangements so as to stay with us till after Easter. We
-could then return together."
-
-"Till after Easter, my lord! I should be in the Hue and Cry before that
-time, if I was so long absent from my accustomed haunts. Besides I
-should only put out your own arrangements, or rather, those of Lady
-Cashel. There would probably be no room for me in the family coach.".
-
-"The family coach won't go, Lord Kilcullen. I am sorry to say, that the
-state of my affairs at present renders it advisable that the family
-should remain at Grey Abbey this season. I shall attend my
-parliamentary duties alone."
-
-This was intended as a hit the first at the prodigal son, but Kilcullen
-was too crafty to allow it to tell. He merely bowed his head, and
-opened his eyes, to betoken his surprise at such a decision, and
-remained quiet.
-
-"Indeed," continued Lord Cashel, "I did not even intend to have gone
-myself, but the unexpected death of Harry Wyndham renders it necessary.
-I must put Fanny's affairs in a right train. Poor Harry!--did you see
-much of him during his illness?"
-
-"Why, no--I can't say I did. I'm not a very good hand at doctoring or
-nursing. I saw him once since he got his commission, glittering with
-his gold lace like a new weather-cock on a Town Hall. He hadn't time to
-polish the shine off."
-
-"His death will make a great difference, as far as Fanny is
-concerned--eh?"
-
-"Indeed it will: her fortune now is considerable;--a deuced pretty
-thing, remembering that it's all ready money, and that she can touch it
-the moment she's of age. She's entirely off with Ballindine, isn't
-she?"
-
-"Oh, entirely," said the earl, with considerable self-complacency;
-"that affair is entirely over."
-
-"I've stated so everywhere publicly; but I dare say, she'll give him
-her money, nevertheless. She's not the girl to give over a man, if
-she's really fond of him."
-
-"But, my dear Kilcullen, she has authorised me to give him a final
-answer, and I have done so. After that, you know, it would be quite
-impossible for her to--to--"
-
-"You'll see;--she'll marry Lord Ballindine. Had Harry lived, it might
-have been different; but now she's got all her brother's money, she'll
-think it a point of honour to marry her poor lover. Besides, her
-staying this year in the country will be in his favour: she'll see no
-one here--and she'll want something to think of. I understand he has
-altogether thrown himself into Blake's hands--the keenest fellow in
-Ireland, with as much mercy as a foxhound. He's a positive fool, is
-Ballindine."
-
-"I'm afraid he is--I'm afraid he is. And you may be sure I'm too fond
-of Fanny--that is, I have too much regard for the trust reposed in me,
-to allow her to throw herself away upon him."
-
-"That's all very well; but what can you do?"
-
-"Why, not allow him to see her; and I've another plan in my head for
-her."
-
-"Ah!--but the thing is to put the plan into _her_ head. I'd be sorry
-to hear of a fine girl like Fanny Wyndham breaking her heart in a
-half-ruined barrack in Connaught, without money to pay a schoolmaster
-to teach her children to spell. But I've too many troubles of my own
-to think of just at present, to care much about hers;" and the son and
-heir got up, and stood with his back to the fire, and put his arms
-under his coat-laps. "Upon my soul, my lord, I never was so hard up in
-my life!"
-
-Lord Cashel now prepared himself for action. The first shot was fired,
-and he must go on with the battle.
-
-"So I hear, Kilcullen; and yet, during the last four years, you've had
-nearly double your allowance; and, before that, I paid every farthing
-you owed. Within the last five years, you've had nearly forty thousand
-pounds! Supposing you'd had younger brothers, Lord Kilcullen--supposing
-that I had had six or eight sons instead of only one; what would you
-have done? How then would you have paid your debts?"
-
-"Fate having exempted me and your lordship from so severe a curse, I
-have never turned my mind to reflect what I might have done under such
-an infliction."
-
-"Or, supposing I had chosen, myself, to indulge in those expensive
-habits, which would have absorbed my income, and left me unable to do
-more for you, than many other noblemen in my position do for their
-sons--do you ever reflect how impossible it would then have been for me
-to have helped you out of your difficulties?"
-
-"I feel as truly grateful for your self-denial in this respect, as I do
-in that of my non-begotten brethren."
-
-Lord Cashel saw that he was laughed at, and he looked angry; but he did
-not want to quarrel with his son, so he continued:
-
-"Jervis writes me word that it is absolutely necessary that thirty
-thousand pounds should be paid for you at once; or, that your remaining
-in London--or, in fact, in the country at all, is quite out of the
-question."
-
-"Indeed, my lord, I'm afraid Jervis is right."
-
-"Thirty thousand pounds! Are you aware what your income is?"
-
-"Why, hardly. I know Jervis takes care that I never see much of it."
-
-"Do you mean that you don't receive it?"
-
-"Oh, I do not at all doubt its accurate payment. I mean to say, that
-I don't often have the satisfaction of seeing much of it at the right
-side of my banker's book."
-
-"Thirty thousand pounds! And will that sum set you completely free in
-the world?"
-
-"I am sorry to say it will not--nor nearly."
-
-"Then, Lord Kilcullen," said the earl, with most severe, but still most
-courteous dignity, "may I trouble you to be good enough to tell me
-what, at the present moment, you do owe?"
-
-"I'm afraid I could not do so with any accuracy; but it is more than
-double the sum you have named."
-
-"Do you mean, that you have no schedule of your debts?--no means of
-acquainting me with the amount? How can you expect that I can assist
-you, when you think it too much trouble to make yourself thoroughly
-acquainted with the state of your own affairs?"
-
-"A list could certainly be made out, if I had any prospect of being
-able to settle the amount. If your lordship can undertake to do so at
-once, I will undertake to hand you a correct list of the sums due,
-before I leave Grey Abbey. I presume you would not require to know
-exactly to whom all the items were owing."
-
-This effrontery was too much, and Lord Cashel was very near to losing
-his temper.
-
-"Upon my honour, Kilcullen, you're cool, very cool. You come upon me
-to pay, Heaven knows how many thousands--more money, I know, than I'm
-able to raise; and you condescendingly tell me that you will trouble
-yourself so far as to let me know how much money I am to give you--but
-that I am not to know what is done with it! No; if I am to pay your
-debts again, I will do it through Jervis."
-
-"Pray remember," replied Lord Kilcullen, not at all disturbed from his
-equanimity, "that I have not proposed that you should pay my debts
-without knowing where the money went; and also that I have not yet
-asked you to pay them at all."
-
-"Who, then, do you expect will pay them? I can assure you I should be
-glad to be relieved from the honour."
-
-"I merely said that I had not yet made any proposition respecting them.
-Of course, I expect your assistance. Failing you, I have no resource
-but the Jews. I should regret to put the property into their hands;
-especially as, hitherto, I have not raised money on post obits [24]."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 24: post obit--a loan that need not be repaid until
-                   the death of a specified individual, usually
-                   someone from whom the borrower expected to inherit
-                   enough to repay the loan]
-
-"At any rate, I'm glad of that," said the father, willing to admit any
-excuse for returning to his good humour. "That would be ruin; and I
-hope that anything short of that may be--may be--may be done something
-with."
-
-The expression was not dignified, and it pained the earl to make it;
-but it was expressive, and he didn't wish at once to say that he had a
-proposal for paying off his son's debts. "But now, Kilcullen, tell me
-fairly, in round figures, what do you think you owe?--as near as you
-can guess, without going to pen and paper, you know?"
-
-"Well, my lord, if you will allow me, I will make a proposition to you.
-If you will hand over to Mr Jervis fifty thousand pounds, for him to
-pay such claims as have already been made upon him as your agent, and
-such other debts as I may have sent in to him: and if you will give
-myself thirty thousand, to pay such debts as I do not choose to have
-paid by an agent, I will undertake to have everything settled."
-
-"Eighty thousand pounds in four years! Why, Kilcullen, what have you
-done with it?--where has it gone? You have five thousand a-year, no
-house to keep up, no property to support, no tenants to satisfy, no
-rates to pay--five thousand a-year for your own personal expenses--and,
-in four years, you have got eighty thousand in debt! The property
-never can stand that, you know. It never can stand at that rate. Why,
-Kilcullen, what have you done with it?"
-
-"Mr Crockford has a portion of it, and John Scott has some of it. A
-great deal of it is scattered rather widely--so widely that it would be
-difficult now to trace it. But, my lord, it has gone. I won't deny that
-the greater portion of it has been lost at play, or on the turf. I
-trust I may, in future, be more fortunate and more cautious."
-
-"I trust so. I trust so, indeed. Eighty thousand pounds! And do you
-think I can raise such a sum as that at a week's warning?"
-
-"Indeed, I have no doubt as to your being able to do so: it may be
-another question whether you are willing."
-
-"I am not--I am not able," said the libelled father. "As you know well
-enough, the incumbrances on the property take more than a quarter of my
-income."
-
-"There can, nevertheless, be no doubt of your being able to have the
-money, and that at once, if you chose to go into the market for it. I
-have no doubt but that Mr Jervis could get it for you at once at five
-per cent."
-
-"Four thousand a-year gone for ever from the property!--and what
-security am I to have that the same sacrifice will not be again
-incurred, after another lapse of four years?"
-
-"You can have no security, my lord, against my being in debt. You can,
-however, have every security that you will not again pay my debts, in
-your own resolution. I trust, however, that I have some experience to
-prevent my again falling into so disagreeable a predicament. I think I
-have heard your Lordship say that you incurred some unnecessary
-expenses yourself in London, before your marriage!"
-
-"I wish, Kilcullen, that you had never exceeded your income more than
-I did mine. But it is no use talking any further on this subject. I
-cannot, and I will not--I cannot in justice either to myself or to you,
-borrow this money for you; nor, if I could, should I think it right to
-do so."
-
-"Then what the devil's the use of talking about it so long?" said the
-dutiful son, hastily jumping up from the chair in which he had again
-sat down. "Did you bring me down to Grey Abbey merely to tell me that
-you knew of my difficulties, and that you could do nothing to assist
-me?"
-
-"Now, don't put yourself into a passion--pray don't!" said the father,
-a little frightened by the sudden ebullition. "If you'll sit down, and
-listen to me, I'll tell you what I propose. I did not send for you
-here without intending to point out to you some method of extricating
-yourself from your present pecuniary embarrassment; and, if you have
-any wish to give up your course, of--I must say, reckless profusion,
-and commence that upright and distinguished career, which I still hope
-to see you take, you will, I think, own that my plan is both a safer
-and a more expedient one than that which you have proposed. It is quite
-time for you now to abandon the expensive follies of youth; and,"--Lord
-Cashel was getting into a delightfully dignified tone, and felt himself
-prepared for a good burst of common-place eloquence; but his son looked
-impatient, and as he could not take such liberty with him as he could
-with Lord Ballindine, he came to the point at once, and ended abruptly
-by saying, "and get married."
-
-"For the purpose of allowing my wife to pay my debts?"
-
-"Why, not exactly that; but as, of course, you could not marry any
-woman but a woman with a large fortune, that would follow as a matter
-of consequence."
-
-"Your lordship proposes the fortune not as the first object of my
-affection, but merely as a corollary. But, perhaps, it will be as well
-that you should finish your proposition, before I make any remarks on
-the subject." And Lord Kilcullen, sat down, with a well-feigned look of
-listless indifference.
-
-"Well, Kilcullen, I have latterly been thinking much about you, and so
-has your poor mother. She is very uneasy that you should still--still
-be unmarried; and Jervis has written to me very strongly. You see it
-is quite necessary that something should be done--or we shall both be
-ruined. Now, if I did raise this sum--and I really could not do it--I
-don't think I could manage it, just at present; but, even if I did, it
-would only be encouraging you to go on just in the same way again. Now,
-if you were to marry, your whole course of life would be altered, and
-you would become, at the same time, more respectable and more happy."
-
-"That would depend a good deal upon circumstances, I should think."
-
-"Oh! I am sure you would. You are just the same sort of fellow I was
-when at your age, and I was much happier after I was married, so I know
-it. Now, you see, your cousin has a hundred thousand pounds; in fact
-something more than that."
-
-"What?--Fanny! Poor Ballindine! So that's the way with him is it! When
-I was contradicting the rumour of his marriage with Fanny, I little
-thought that I was to be his rival! At any rate, I shall have to shoot
-him first."
-
-"You might, at any rate, confine yourself to sense, Lord Kilcullen,
-when I am taking so much pains to talk sensibly to you, on a subject
-which, I presume, cannot but interest you."
-
-"Indeed, my lord, I'm all attention; and I do intend to talk sensibly
-when I say that I think you are proposing to treat Ballindine very ill.
-The world will think well of your turning him adrift on the score of
-the match being an imprudent one; but it won't speak so leniently of
-you if you expel him, as soon as your ward becomes an heiress, to make
-way for your own son."
-
-"You know that I'm not thinking of doing so. I've long seen that Lord
-Ballindine would not make a fitting husband for Fanny--long before
-Harry died."
-
-"And you think that I shall?"
-
-"Indeed I do. I think she will be lucky to get you."
-
-"I'm flattered into silence: pray go on."
-
-"You will be an earl--a peer--and a man of property. What would she
-become if she married Lord Ballindine?"
-
-"Oh, you are quite right! Go on. I wonder it never occurred to her
-before to set her cap at me."
-
-"Now do be serious. I wonder how you can joke on such a subject, with
-all your debts. I'm sure I feel them heavy enough, if you don't. You
-see Lord Ballindine was refused--I may say he was refused--before we
-heard about that poor boy's unfortunate death. It was the very morning
-we heard of it, three or four hours before the messenger came, that
-Fanny had expressed her resolution to declare it off, and commissioned
-me to tell him so. And, therefore, of course, the two things can't have
-the remotest reference to each other."
-
-"I see. There are, or have been, two Fanny Wyndhams--separate persons,
-though both wards of your lordship. Lord Ballindine was engaged to the
-girl who had a brother; but he can have no possible concern with Fanny
-Wyndham, the heiress, who has no brother."
-
-"How can you be so unfeeling?--but you may pay your debts in your own
-way. You won't ever listen to what I have to say! I should have thought
-that, as your father, I might have considered myself entitled to more
-respect from you."
-
-"Indeed, my lord, I'm all respect and attention, and I won't say one
-more word till you've finished."
-
-"Well--you must see, there can be no objection on the score of Lord
-Ballindine?"
-
-"Oh, none at all."
-
-"And then, where could Fanny wish for a better match than yourself? it
-would be a great thing for her, and the match would be, in all things,
-so--so respectable, and just what it ought to be; and your mother would
-be so delighted, and so should I, and--"
-
-"Her fortune would so nicely pay all my debts."
-
-"Exactly. Of course, I should take care to have your present
-income--five thousand a year--settled on her, in the shape of jointure;
-and I'm sure that would be treating her handsomely. The interest of her
-fortune would not be more than that."
-
-"And what should we live on?"
-
-"Why, of course, I should continue your present allowance."
-
-"And you think that that which I have found so insufficient for myself,
-would be enough for both of us?"
-
-"You must make it enough, Kilcullen--in order that there may be
-something left to enable you to keep up your title when I am gone."
-
-By this time, Lord Kilcullen appeared to be as serious, and nearly as
-solemn, as his father, and he sat, for a considerable time, musing,
-till his father said, "Well, Kilcullen, will you take my advice?"
-
-"It's impracticable, my lord. In the first place, the money must be
-paid immediately, and considerable delay must occur before I could even
-offer to Miss Wyndham; and, in the next place, were I to do so, I am
-sure she would refuse me."
-
-"Why; there must be some delay, of course. But I suppose, if I passed
-my word, through Jervis, for so much of the debts as are immediate,
-that a settlement might be made whereby they might stand over for
-twelve months, with interest, of course. As to refusing you, it's not
-at all likely: where would she look for a better offer?"
-
-"I don't know much of my cousin; but I don't think she's exactly the
-girl to take a man because he's a good match for her."
-
-"Perhaps not. But then, you know, you understand women so well, and
-would have such opportunities; you would be sure to make yourself
-agreeable to her, with very little effort on your part."
-
-"Yes, poor thing--she would be delivered over, ready bound, into the
-lion's den." And then the young man sat silent again, for some time,
-turning the matter over in his mind. At last, he said,--
-
-"Well, my lord; I am a considerate and a dutiful son, and I will agree
-to your proposition: but I must saddle it with conditions. I have no
-doubt that the sum which I suggested should be paid through your agent,
-could be arranged to be paid in a year, or eighteen months, by your
-making yourself responsible for it, and I would undertake to indemnify
-you. But the thirty thousand pounds I must have at once. I must return
-to London, with the power of raising it there, without delay. This,
-also, I would repay you out of Fanny's fortune. I would then undertake
-to use my best endeavours to effect a union with your ward. But I most
-positively will not agree to this--nor have any hand in the matter,
-unless I am put in immediate possession of the sum I have named, and
-unless you will agree to double my income as soon as I am married."
-
-To both these propositions the earl, at first, refused to accede; but
-his son was firm. Then, Lord Cashel agreed to put him in immediate
-possession of the sum of money he required, but would not hear of
-increasing his income. They argued, discussed, and quarrelled over the
-matter, for a long time; till, at last, the anxious father, in his
-passion, told his son that he might go his own way, and that he would
-take no further trouble to help so unconscionable a child. Lord
-Kilcullen rejoined by threatening immediately to throw the whole of the
-property, which was entailed on himself, into the hands of the Jews.
-
-Long they argued and bargained, till each was surprised at the
-obstinacy of the other. They ended, however, by splitting the
-difference, and it was agreed, that Lord Cashel was at once to hand
-over thirty thousand pounds, and to take his son's bond for the amount;
-that the other debts were to stand over till Fanny's money was
-forthcoming; and that the income of the newly married pair was to be
-seven thousand five hundred a-year.
-
-"At least," thought Lord Kilcullen to himself, as he good-humouredly
-shook hands with his father at the termination of the interview--"I
-have not done so badly, for those infernal dogs will be silenced, and I
-shall get the money. I could not have gone back without that. I can go
-on with the marriage, or not, as I may choose, hereafter. It won't be a
-bad speculation, however."
-
-To do Lord Cashel justice, he did not intend cheating his son, nor did
-he suspect his son of an intention to cheat him. But the generation was
-deteriorating.
-
-
-
-
-XIV.  THE COUNTESS
-
-
-It was delightful to see on what good terms the earl and his son met
-that evening at dinner. The latter even went so far as to be decently
-civil to his mother, and was quite attentive to Fanny. She, however,
-did not seem to appreciate the compliment. It was now a fortnight since
-she had heard of her brother's death, and during the whole of that time
-she had been silent, unhappy, and fretful. Not a word more had been
-said to her about Lord Ballindine, nor had she, as yet, spoken about
-him to any one; but she had been thinking about little else, and had
-ascertained,--at least, so she thought,--that she could never be happy,
-unless she were reconciled to him.
-
-The more she brooded over the subject, the more she felt convinced that
-such was the case; she could not think how she had ever been induced
-to sanction, by her name, such an unwarrantable proceeding as the
-unceremonious dismissal of a man to whom her troth had been plighted,
-merely because he had not called to see her. As for his not writing,
-she was aware that Lord Cashel had recommended that, till she was of
-age, they should not correspond. As she thought the matter over in
-her own room, long hour after hour, she became angry with herself for
-having been talked into a feeling of anger for him. What right had she
-to be angry because he kept horses? She could not expect him to put
-himself into Lord Cashel's leading-strings. Indeed, she thought she
-would have liked him less if he had done so. And now, to reject him
-just when circumstances put it in her power to enable her to free
-him from his embarrassments, and live a manner becoming his station!
-What must Frank think of her?--For he could not but suppose that her
-rejection had been caused by her unexpected inheritance.
-
-In the course of the fortnight, she made up her mind that all Lord
-Cashel had said to Lord Ballindine should be unsaid;--but who was to do
-it? It would be a most unpleasant task to perform; and one which, she
-was aware, her guardian would be most unwilling to undertake. She fully
-resolved that she would do it herself, if she could find no fitting
-ambassador to undertake the task, though that would be a step to which
-she would fain not be driven. At one time, she absolutely thought of
-asking her cousin, Kilcullen, about it:--this was just before his
-leaving Grey Abbey; he seemed so much more civil and kind than usual.
-But then, she knew so little of him, and so little liked what she did
-know: that scheme, therefore, was given up. Lady Selina was so cold,
-and prudent--would talk to her so much about propriety, self-respect,
-and self-control, that she could not make a confidante of her. No one
-could talk to Selina on any subject more immediately interesting than a
-Roman Emperor, or a pattern for worsted-work. Fanny felt that she would
-not be equal, herself, to going boldly to Lord Cashel, and desiring him
-to inform Lord Ballindine that he had been mistaken in the view he had
-taken of his ward's wishes: no--that was impossible; such a proceeding
-would probably bring on a fit of apoplexy.
-
-There was no one else to whom she could apply, but her aunt. Lady
-Cashel was a very good-natured old woman, who slept the greatest
-portion of her time, and knitted through the rest of her existence. She
-did not take a prominent part in any of the important doings of Grey
-Abbey; and, though Lord Cashel constantly referred to her, for he
-thought it respectable to do so, no one regarded her much. Fanny felt,
-however, that she would neither scold her, ridicule her, nor refuse to
-listen: to Lady Cashel, therefore, at last, she went for assistance.
-
-Her ladyship always passed the morning, after breakfast, in a
-room adjoining her own bed-room, in which she daily held deep
-debate with Griffiths, her factotum, respecting household affairs,
-knitting-needles, and her own little ailments and cossetings.
-Griffiths, luckily, was a woman of much the same tastes as her
-ladyship, only somewhat of a more active temperament; and they were
-most stedfast friends. It was such a comfort to Lady Cashel to have
-some one to whom she could twaddle!
-
-The morning after Lord Kilcullen's departure Fanny knocked at her door,
-and was asked to come in. The countess, as usual, was in her easy
-chair, with the knitting-apparatus in her lap, and Griffiths was seated
-at the table, pulling about threads, and keeping her ladyship awake by
-small talk.
-
-"I'm afraid I'm disturbing you, aunt," said Fanny, "but I wanted to
-speak to you for a minute or two. Good morning, Mrs Griffiths."
-
-"Oh, no! you won't disturb me, Fanny. I was a little busy this morning,
-for I wanted to finish this side of the--You see what a deal I've
-done,"--and the countess lugged up a whole heap of miscellaneous
-worsted from a basket just under her arm--"and I must finish it by
-lady-day [25], or I shan't get the other done, I don't know when. But
-still, I've plenty of time to attend to you."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 25: lady-day--Annunciation Day, March 25]
-
-"Then I'll go down, my lady, and see about getting the syrup boiled,"
-said Griffiths. "Good morning, Miss Wyndham."
-
-"Do; but mind you come up again immediately--I'll ring the bell when
-Miss Wyndham is going; and pray don't leave me alone, now."
-
-"No, my lady--not a moment," and Griffiths escaped to the syrup.
-
-Fanny's heart beat quick and hard, as she sat down on the sofa,
-opposite to her aunt. It was impossible for any one to be afraid of
-Lady Cashel, there was so very little about her that could inspire awe;
-but then, what she had to say was so very disagreeable to say! If she
-had had to tell her tale out loud, merely to the empty easy chair, it
-would have been a dreadful undertaking.
-
-"Well, Fanny, what can I do for you? I'm sure you look very nice in
-your bombazine; and it's very nicely made up. Who was it made it for
-you?"
-
-"I got it down from Dublin, aunt; from Foley's."
-
-"Oh, I remember; so you told me. Griffiths has a niece makes those
-things up very well; but then she lives at Namptwich, and one couldn't
-send to England for it. I had such a quantity of mourning by me, I
-didn't get any made up new; else, I think I must have sent for her."
-
-"My dear aunt, I am very unhappy about something, and I want you to
-help me. I'm afraid, though, it will give you a great deal of trouble."
-
-"Good gracious, Fanny!--what is it? Is it about poor Harry? I'm sure I
-grieved about him more than I can tell."
-
-"No, aunt: he's gone now, and time is the only cure for that grief. I
-know I must bear that without complaining. But, aunt, I feel--I think,
-that is, that I've used Lord Ballindine very ill."
-
-"Good gracious me, my love! I thought Lord Cashel had managed all
-that--I thought that was all settled. You know, he would keep those
-horrid horses, and all that kind of thing; and what more could you do
-than just let Lord Cashel settle it?"
-
-"Yes, but aunt--you see, I had engaged myself to Lord Ballindine, and I
-don't think--in fact--oh, aunt! I did not wish to break my word to Lord
-Ballindine, and I am very very sorry for what has been done," and Fanny
-was again in tears.
-
-"But, my dear Fanny," said the countess, so far excited as to commence
-rising from her seat--the attempt, however, was abandoned, when
-she felt the ill effects of the labour to which she was exposing
-herself--"but, my dear Fanny--what would you have? It's done, now, you
-know; and, really, it's for the best."
-
-"Oh, but, dear aunt, I must get somebody to see him. I've been thinking
-about it ever since he was here with my uncle. I wouldn't let him think
-that I broke it all off, merely because--because of poor Harry's
-money," and Fanny sobbed away dreadfully.
-
-"But you don't want to marry him!" said the naive countess.
-
-Now, Fanny did want to marry him, though she hardly liked saying so,
-even to Lady Cashel.
-
-"You know, I promised him I would," said she; "and what will he think
-of me?--what must he think of me, to throw him off so cruelly, so
-harshly, after all that's past?--Oh, aunt! I must see him again."
-
-"I know something of human nature," replied the aunt, "and if you do, I
-tell you, it will end in your being engaged to him again. You know it's
-off now. Come, my dear; don't think so much about it: I'm sure Lord
-Cashel wouldn't do anything cruel or harsh."
-
-"Oh, I must see him again, whatever comes of it;" and then she paused
-for a considerable time, during which the bewildered old lady was
-thinking what she could do to relieve her sensitive niece. "Dear, dear
-aunt, I don't want to deceive you!" and Fanny, springing up, knelt at
-her aunt's feet, and looked up into her face. "I do love him--I always
-loved him, and I cannot, cannot quarrel with him." And then she burst
-out crying vehemently, hiding her face in the countess's lap.
-
-Lady Cashel was quite overwhelmed. Fanny was usually so much more
-collected than herself, that her present prostration, both of
-feeling and body, was dreadful to see. Suppose she was to go into
-hysterics--there they would be alone, and Lady Cashel felt that she had
-not strength to ring the bell.
-
-"But, my dear Fanny! oh dear, oh dear, this is very dreadful!--but,
-Fanny--he's gone away now. Lift up your face, Fanny, for you frighten
-me. Well, I'm sure I'll do anything for you. Perhaps he wouldn't mind
-coming back again,--he always was very good-natured. I'm sure I always
-liked Lord Ballindine very much,--only he would have all those horses.
-But I'm sure, if you wish it, I should be very glad to see him marry
-you; only, you know, you must wait some time, because of poor Harry;
-and I'm sure I don't know how you'll manage with Lord Cashel."
-
-"Dear aunt--I want you to speak to Lord Cashel. When I was angry
-because I thought Frank didn't come here as he might have done, I
-consented that my uncle should break off the match: besides, then, you
-know, we should have had so little between us. But I didn't know then
-how well I loved him. Indeed, indeed, aunt, I cannot bring my heart to
-quarrel with him; and I am quite, _quite_ sure he would never wish to
-quarrel with me. Will you go to my uncle--tell him that I've changed my
-mind; tell him that I was a foolish girl, and did not know my mind. But
-tell him I _must_ be friends with Frank again."
-
-"Well, of course I'll do what you wish me,--indeed, I would do anything
-for you, Fanny, as if you were one of my own; but really, I don't
-know--Good gracious! What am I to say to him? Wouldn't it be better,
-Fanny, if you were to go to him yourself?"
-
-"Oh, no, aunt; pray do you tell him first. I couldn't go to him;
-besides, he would do anything for you, you know. I want you to go
-to him--do, now, dear aunt--and tell him--not from me, but from
-yourself--how very, very much I--that is, how very very--but you will
-know what to say; only Frank must, _must_ come back again."
-
-"Well, Fanny, dear, I'll go to Lord Cashel; or, perhaps, he wouldn't
-mind coming here. Ring the bell for me, dear. But I'm sure he'll be
-very angry. I'd just write a line and ask Lord Ballindine to come and
-dine here, and let him settle it all himself, only I don't think Lord
-Cashel would like it."
-
-Griffiths answered the summons, and was despatched to the book-room
-to tell his lordship that her ladyship would be greatly obliged if
-he would step upstairs to her for a minute or two; and, as soon as
-Griffiths was gone on her errand, Fanny fled to her own apartment,
-leaving her aunt in a very bewildered and pitiable state of mind: and
-there she waited, with palpitating heart and weeping eyes, the effects
-of the interview.
-
-She was dreadfully nervous, for she felt certain that she would be
-summoned before her uncle. Hitherto, she alone, in all the house, had
-held him in no kind of awe; indeed, her respect for her uncle had not
-been of the most exalted kind; but now she felt she was afraid of him.
-
-She remained in her room much longer than she thought it would have
-taken her aunt to explain what she had to say. At last, however, she
-heard footsteps in the corridor, and Griffiths knocked at the door. Her
-aunt would be obliged by her stepping into her room. She tried not to
-look disconcerted, and asked if Lord Cashel were still there. She was
-told that he was; and she felt that she had to muster up all her
-courage to encounter him.
-
-When she went into the room, Lady Cashel was still in her easy-chair,
-but the chair seemed to lend none of its easiness to its owner. She
-was sitting upright, with her hands on her two knees, and she looked
-perplexed, distressed, and unhappy. Lord Cashel was standing with his
-back to the fire-place, and Fanny had never seen his face look so
-black. He really seemed, for the time, to have given over acting, to
-have thrown aside his dignity, and to be natural and in earnest.
-
-Lady Cashel began the conversation.
-
-"Oh, Fanny," she said, "you must really overcome all this
-sensitiveness; you really must. I've spoken to your uncle, and it's
-quite impossible, and very unwise; and, indeed, it can't be done at
-all. In fact, Lord Ballindine isn't, by any means, the sort of person I
-supposed."
-
-Fanny knit her brows a little at this, and felt somewhat less humble
-than she did before. She knew she should get indignant if her uncle
-abused her lover, and that, if she did, her courage would rise in
-proportion. Her aunt continued--
-
-"Your uncle's very kind about it, and says he can, of course, forgive
-your feeling a little out of sorts just at present; and, I'm sure, so
-can I, and I'm sure I'd do anything to make you happy; but as for
-making it all up with Lord Ballindine again, indeed it cannot be
-thought of, Fanny; and so your uncle will tell you."
-
-And then Lord Cashel opened his oracular mouth, for the purpose of
-doing so.
-
-"Really, Fanny, this is the most unaccountable thing I ever heard of.
-But you'd better sit down, while I speak to you," and Fanny sat down on
-the sofa. "I think I understood you rightly, when you desired me, less
-than a month ago, to inform Lord Ballindine that circumstances--that
-is, his own conduct--obliged you to decline the honour of his alliance.
-Did you not do so spontaneously, and of your own accord?"
-
-"Certainly, uncle, I agreed to take your advice; though I did so most
-unwillingly."
-
-"Had I not your authority for desiring him--I won't say to discontinue
-his visits, for that he had long done--but to give up his pretensions
-to your hand? Did you not authorise me to do so?"
-
-"I believe I did. But, uncle--"
-
-"And I have done as you desired me; and now, Fanny, that I have done
-so--now that I have fully explained to him what you taught me to
-believe were your wishes on the subject, will you tell me--for I really
-think your aunt must have misunderstood you--what it is that you wish
-me to do?"
-
-"Why, uncle, you pointed out--and it was very true then, that my
-fortune was not sufficient to enable Lord Ballindine to keep up his
-rank. It is different now, and I am very, very sorry that it is so;
-but it is different now, and I feel that I ought not to reject Lord
-Ballindine, because I am so much richer than I was when he--when he
-proposed to me."
-
-"Then it's merely a matter of feeling with you, and not of affection?
-If I understand you, you are afraid that you should be thought to have
-treated Lord Ballindine badly?"
-
-"It's not only that--" And then she paused for a few moments, and
-added, "I thought I could have parted with him, when you made me
-believe that I ought to do so, but I find I cannot."
-
-"You mean that you love him?" and the earl looked very black at his
-niece. He intended to frighten her out of her resolution, but she
-quietly answered,
-
-"Yes, uncle, I do."
-
-"And you want me to tell him so, after having banished him from my
-house?"
-
-Fanny's eyes again shot fire at the word "banished", but she answered,
-very quietly, and even with a smile,
-
-"No, uncle; but I want you to ask him here again. I might tell him the
-rest myself."
-
-"But, Fanny, dear," said the countess, "your uncle couldn't do it: you
-know, he told him to go away before. Besides, I really don't think he'd
-come; he's so taken up with those horrid horses, and that Mr Blake, who
-is worse than any of 'em. Really, Fanny, Kilcullen says that he and Mr
-Blake are quite notorious."
-
-"I think, aunt, Lord Kilcullen might be satisfied with looking after
-himself. If it depended on him, he never had a kind word to say for
-Lord Ballindine."
-
-"But you know, Fanny," continued the aunt, "he knows everybody; and if
-he says Lord Ballindine is that sort of person, why, it must be so,
-though I'm sure I'm very sorry to hear it."
-
-Lord Cashel saw that he could not trust any more to his wife: that last
-hit about Kilcullen had been very unfortunate; so he determined to put
-an end to all Fanny's yearnings after her lover with a strong hand, and
-said,
-
-"If you mean, Fanny, after what has passed, that I should go to Lord
-Ballindine, and give him to understand that he is again welcome to
-Grey Abbey, I must at once tell you that it is absolutely--absolutely
-impossible. If I had no personal objection to the young man on any
-prudential score, the very fact of my having already, at your request,
-desired his absence from my house, would be sufficient to render it
-impossible. I owe too much to my own dignity, and am too anxious for
-your reputation, to think of doing such a thing. But when I also
-remember that Lord Ballindine is a reckless, dissipated gambler--I
-much fear, with no fixed principle, I should consider any step towards
-renewing the acquaintance between you a most wicked and unpardonable
-proceeding."
-
-When Fanny heard her lover designated as a reckless gambler, she lost
-all remaining feelings of fear at her uncle's anger, and, standing up,
-looked him full in the face through her tears.
-
-"It's not so, my lord!" she said, when he had finished. "He is not what
-you have said. I know him too well to believe such things of him, and I
-will not submit to hear him abused."
-
-"Oh, Fanny, my dear!" said the frightened countess; "don't speak in
-that way. Surely, your uncle means to act for your own happiness; and
-don't you know Lord Ballindine has those horrid horses?"
-
-"If I don't mind his horses, aunt, no one else need; but he's no
-gambler, and he's not dissipated--I'm sure not half so much so as Lord
-Kilcullen."
-
-"In that, Fanny, you're mistaken," said the earl; "but I don't wish to
-discuss the matter with you. You must, however, fully understand this:
-Lord Ballindine cannot be received under this roof. If you regret him,
-you must remember that his rejection was your own act. I think you then
-acted most prudently, and I trust it will not be long before you are of
-the same opinion yourself," and Lord Cashel moved to the door as though
-he had accomplished his part in the interview.
-
-"Stop one moment, uncle," said Fanny, striving hard to be calm, and
-hardly succeeding. "I did not ask my aunt to speak to you on this
-subject, till I had turned it over and over in my mind, and resolved
-that I would not make myself and another miserable for ever, because I
-had been foolish enough not to know my mind. You best know whether you
-can ask Lord Ballindine to Grey Abbey or not; but I am determined, if
-I cannot see him here, that I will see him somewhere else," and she
-turned towards the door, and then, thinking of her aunt, she turned
-back and kissed her, and immediately left the room.
-
-The countess looked up at her husband, quite dumbfounded, and he seemed
-rather distressed himself. However, he muttered something about her
-being a hot-headed simpleton and soon thinking better about it, and
-then betook himself to his private retreat, to hold sweet converse with
-his own thoughts--having first rung the bell for Griffiths, to pick up
-the scattered threads of her mistress's knitting.
-
-Lord Cashel certainly did not like the look of things. There was a
-determination in Fanny's eye, as she made her parting speech, which
-upset him rather, and which threw considerable difficulties in the way
-of Lord Kilcullen's wooing. To be sure, time would do a great deal: but
-then, there wasn't so much time to spare. He had already taken steps to
-borrow the thirty thousand pounds, and had, indeed, empowered his son
-to receive it: he had also pledged himself for the other fifty; and
-then, after all, that perverse fool of a girl would insist on being in
-love with that scapegrace, Lord Ballindine! This, however, might wear
-away, and he would take very good care that she should hear of his
-misdoings. It would be very odd if, after all, his plans were to be
-destroyed, and his arrangements disconcerted by his own ward, and
-niece--especially when he designed so great a match for her!
-
-He could not, however, make himself quite comfortable, though he had
-great confidence in his own diplomatic resources.
-
-
-
-
-XV.  HANDICAP LODGE
-
-
-Lord Ballindine left Grey Abbey, and rode homewards, towards Handicap
-Lodge, in a melancholy and speculative mood. His first thoughts were
-all of Harry Wyndham. Frank, as the accepted suitor of his sister, had
-known him well and intimately, and had liked him much; and the poor
-young fellow had been much attached to him. He was greatly shocked to
-hear of his death. It was not yet a month since he had seen him shining
-in all the new-blown splendour of his cavalry regimentals, and Lord
-Ballindine was unfeignedly grieved to think how short a time the lad
-had lived to enjoy them. His thoughts, then, naturally turned to
-his own position, and the declaration which Lord Cashel had made to
-him respecting himself. Could it be absolutely true that Fanny had
-determined to give him up altogether?--After all her willing vows, and
-assurances of unalterable affection, could she be so cold as to content
-herself with sending him a formal message, by her uncle, that she
-did not wish to see him again? Frank argued with himself that it was
-impossible; he was sure he knew her too well. But still, Lord Cashel
-would hardly tell him a downright lie, and he had distinctly stated
-that the rejection came from Miss Wyndham herself.
-
-Then, he began to feel indignant, and spurred his horse, and rode a
-little faster, and made a few resolutions as to upholding his own
-dignity. He would run after neither Lord Cashel nor his niece; he would
-not even ask her to change her mind, since she had been able to bring
-herself to such a determination as that expressed to him. But he would
-insist on seeing her; she could not refuse that to him, after what had
-passed between them, and he would then tell her what he thought of her,
-and leave her for ever. But no; he would do nothing to vex her, as long
-as she was grieving for her brother. Poor Harry!--she loved him so
-dearly! Perhaps, after all, his sudden rejection was, in some manner,
-occasioned by this sad event, and would be revoked as her sorrow grew
-less with time. And then, for the first time, the idea shot across his
-mind, of the wealth Fanny must inherit by her brother's death.
-
-It certainly had a considerable effect on him, for he breathed slow
-awhile, and was some little time before he could entirely realise the
-conception that Fanny was now the undoubted owner of a large fortune.
-"That is it," thought he to himself, at last; "that sordid earl
-considers that he can now be sure of a higher match for his niece, and
-Fanny has allowed herself to be persuaded out of her engagement: she
-has allowed herself to be talked into the belief that it was her duty
-to give up a poor man like me." And then, he felt very angry again.
-"Heavens!" said he to himself--"is it possible she should be so
-servile and so mean? Fanny Wyndham, who cared so little for the prosy
-admonitions of her uncle, a few months since, can she have altered her
-disposition so completely? Can the possession of her brother's money
-have made so vile a change in her character? Could she be the same
-Fanny who had so entirely belonged to him, who had certainly loved him
-truly once? Perish her money! he had sought her from affection alone;
-he had truly and fondly loved her; he had determined to cling to her,
-in spite of the advice of his friends! And then, he found himself
-deserted and betrayed by her, because circumstances had given her the
-probable power of making a better match!"
-
-Such were Lord Ballindine's thoughts; and he flattered himself with
-the reflection that he was a most cruelly used, affectionate, and
-disinterested lover. He did not, at the moment, remember that it was
-Fanny's twenty thousand pounds which had first attracted his notice;
-and that he had for a considerable time wavered, before he made up his
-mind to part with himself at so low a price. It was not to be expected
-that he should remember that, just at present; and he rode on,
-considerably out of humour with all the world except himself.
-
-As he got near to Handicap Lodge, however, the genius of the
-master-spirit of that classic spot came upon him, and he began to
-bethink himself that it would be somewhat foolish of him to give up the
-game just at present. He reflected that a hundred thousand pounds would
-work a wondrous change and improvement at Kelly's Court--and that, if
-he was before prepared to marry Fanny Wyndham in opposition to the
-wishes of her guardian, he should now be doubly determined to do so,
-even though all Grey Abbey had resolved to the contrary. The last idea
-in his mind, as he got off his horse at his friend's door was, as to
-what Dot Blake would think, and say, of the tidings he brought home
-with him?
-
-It was dark when he reached Handicap Lodge, and, having first asked
-whether Mr Blake was in, and heard that he was dressing for dinner, he
-went to perform the same operation himself. When he came down, full of
-his budget, and quite ready, as usual, to apply to Dot for advice, he
-was surprised, and annoyed, to find two other gentlemen in the room,
-together with Blake. What a bore! to have to make one of a dinner-party
-of four, and the long protracted rubber of shorts which would follow
-it, when his mind was so full of other concerns! However, it was not to
-be avoided.
-
-The guests were, the fat, good-humoured, ready-witted Mat Tierney, and
-a little Connaught member of Parliament, named Morris, who wore a wig,
-played a very good rubber of whist, and knew a good deal about selling
-hunters. He was not very bright, but he told one or two good stories of
-his own adventures in the world, which he repeated oftener than was
-approved of by his intimate friends; and he drank his wine plentifully
-and discreetly--for, if he didn't get a game of cards after consuming a
-certain quantum, he invariably went to sleep.
-
-There was something in the manner in which the three greeted him, on
-entering the room, which showed him that they had been speaking of him
-and his affairs. Dot was the first to address him.
-
-"Well, Frank, I hope I am to wish you joy. I hope you've made a good
-morning's work of it?"
-
-Frank looked rather distressed: before he could answer, however, Mat
-Tierney said,
-
-"Well, Ballindine, upon my soul I congratulate you sincerely, though,
-of course, you've seen nothing at Grey Abbey but tears and cambric
-handkerchiefs. I'm very glad, now, that what Kilcullen told me wasn't
-true. He left Dublin for London yesterday, and I suppose he won't hear
-of his cousin's death before he gets there."
-
-"Upon my honour, Lord Ballindine," said the horse-dealing member, "you
-are a lucky fellow. I believe old Wyndham was a regular golden nabob,
-and I suppose, now, you'll touch the whole of his gatherings."
-
-Dot and his guests had heard of Harry Wyndham's death, and Fanny's
-accession of fortune; but they had not heard that she had rejected her
-lover, and that he had been all but turned out of her guardian's house.
-Nor did he mean to tell them; but he did not find himself pleasantly
-situated in having to hear their congratulations and listen to
-their jokes, while he himself felt that the rumour which he had so
-emphatically denied to Mat Tierney, only two days since, had turned out
-to be true.
-
-Not one of the party made the slightest reference to the poor brother
-from whom Fanny's new fortune had come, except as the lucky means of
-conveying it to her. There was no regret even pretended for his early
-death, no sympathy expressed with Fanny's sorrow. And there was,
-moreover, an evident conviction in the minds of all the three, that
-Frank, of course, looked on the accident as a piece of unalloyed
-good fortune--a splendid windfall in his way, unattended with any
-disagreeable concomitants. This grated against his feelings, and made
-him conscious that he was not yet heartless enough to be quite fit for,
-the society in which he found himself.
-
-The party soon went into the dining-room; and Frank at first got a
-little ease, for Fanny Wyndham seemed to be forgotten in the willing
-devotion which was paid to Blake's soup; the interest of the fish,
-also, seemed to be absorbing; and though conversation became more
-general towards the latter courses, still it was on general subjects,
-as long as the servants were in the room. But, much to his annoyance,
-his mistress again came on the tapis [26], together with the claret.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 26: A tapis was a small cloth or tapestry sometimes
-                   used to cover a table; hence the expression "on
-                   the tapis" meant "on the table" or "under
-                   consideration."]
-
-"You and Kilcullen don't hit it off together--eh, Ballindine?" said
-Mat.
-
-"We never quarrelled," answered Frank; "we never, however, were very
-intimate."
-
-"I wonder at that, for you're both fond of the turf. There's a large
-string of his at Murphy's now, isn't there, Dot?"
-
-"Too many, I believe," said Blake. "If you've a mind to be a purchaser,
-you'll find him a very pleasant fellow--especially if you don't object
-to his own prices."
-
-"Faith I'll not trouble him," said Mat; "I've two of them already, and
-a couple on the turf and a couple for the saddle are quite enough to
-suit me. But what the deuce made him say, so publicly, that your match
-was off, Ballindine? He couldn't have heard of Wyndham's death at the
-time, or I should think he was after the money himself."
-
-"I cannot tell; he certainly had not my authority," said Frank.
-
-"Nor the lady's either, I hope."
-
-"You had better ask herself, Tierney; and, if she rejects me, maybe
-she'll take you."
-
-"There's a speculation for you," said Blake; "you don't think yourself
-too old yet, I hope, to make your fortune by marriage?--and, if you
-don't, I'm sure Miss Wyndham can't."
-
-"I tell you what, Dot, I admire Miss Wyndham much, and I admire a
-hundred thousand pounds more. I don't know anything I admire more than
-a hundred thousand pounds, except two; but, upon my word, I wouldn't
-take the money and the lady together."
-
-"Well, that's kind of him, isn't it, Frank? So, you've a chance left,
-yet."
-
-"Ah! but you forget Morris," said Tierney; "and there's yourself, too.
-If Ballindine is not to be the lucky man, I don't see why either of you
-should despair."
-
-"Oh! as for me, I'm the devil. I've a tail, only I don't wear it,
-except on state occasions; and I've horns and hoofs, only people can't
-see them. But I don't see why Morris should not succeed: he's the only
-one of the four that doesn't own a racehorse, and that's much in his
-favour. What do you say, Morris?"
-
-"I'd have no objection," said the member; "except that I wouldn't like
-to stand in Lord Ballindine's way."
-
-"Oh! he's the soul of good-nature. You wouldn't take it ill of him,
-would you, Frank?"
-
-"Not the least," said Frank, sulkily; for he didn't like the
-conversation, and he didn't know how to put a stop to it.
-
-"Perhaps you wouldn't mind giving him a line of introduction to Lord
-Cashel," said Mat.
-
-"But, Morris," said Blake, "I'm afraid your politics would go against
-you. A Repealer would never go down at Grey Abbey."
-
-"Morris'll never let his politics harm him," said Tierney. "Repeal's a
-very good thing the other side of the Shannon; or one might, carry it
-as far as Conciliation Hall, if one was hard pressed, and near an
-election. Were you ever in Conciliation Hall yet, Morris?"
-
-"No, Mat; but I'm going next Thursday. Will you go with me?"
-
-"Faith, I will not: but I think you should go; you ought to do
-something for your country, for you're a patriot. I never was a public
-man."
-
-"Well, when I can do any good for my country, I'll go there. Talking of
-that, I saw O'Connell in town yesterday, and I never saw him looking so
-well. The verdict hasn't disturbed him much. I wonder what steps the
-Government will take now? They must be fairly bothered. I don't think
-they dare imprison him."
-
-"Not dare!" said Blake--'and why not? When they had courage to indict
-him, you need not fear but what they'll dare to go on with a strong
-hand, now they have a verdict."
-
-"I'll tell you what, Dot; if they imprison the whole set," said Mat,
-"and keep them in prison for twelve months, every Catholic in Ireland
-will be a Repealer by the end of that time."
-
-"And why shouldn't they all be Repealers?" said Morris. "It seems to me
-that it's just as natural for us to be Repealers, as it is for you to
-be the contrary."
-
-"I won't say they don't dare to put them in prison," continued Mat;
-"but I will say they'll be great fools to do it. The Government have
-so good an excuse for not doing so: they have such an easy path out
-of the hobble. There was just enough difference of opinion among the
-judges--just enough irregularity in the trial, such as the omissions of
-the names from the long panel--to enable them to pardon the whole set
-with a good grace."
-
-"If they did," said Blake, "the whole high Tory party in this
-country--peers and parsons--would be furious. They'd lose one set of
-supporters, and wouldn't gain another. My opinion is, they'll lock the
-whole party up in the stone jug--for some time, at least."
-
-"Why," said Tierney, "their own party could not quarrel with them for
-not taking an advantage of a verdict, as to the legality of which there
-is so much difference of opinion even among the judges. I don't know
-much about these things, myself; but, as far as I can understand, they
-would have all been found guilty of high treason a few years back, and
-probably have been hung or beheaded; and if they could do that now, the
-country would be all the quieter. But they can't: the people will have
-their own way; and if they want the people to go easy, they shouldn't
-put O'Connell into prison. Rob them all of the glories of martyrdom,
-and you'd find you'll cut their combs and stop their crowing."
-
-"It's not so easy to do that now, Mat," said Morris. "You'll find that
-the country will stick to O'Connell, whether he's in prison or out
-of it;--but Peel will never dare to put him there. They talk of the
-Penitentiary; but I'll tell you what, if they put him there, the people
-of Dublin won't leave one stone upon another; they'd have it all down
-in a night."
-
-"You forget, Morris, how near Richmond barracks are to the
-Penitentiary."
-
-"No, I don't. Not that I think there'll be any row of the kind, for
-I'll bet a hundred guineas they're never put in prison at all."
-
-"Done," said Dot, and his little book was out--"put that down, Morris,
-and I'll initial it: a hundred guineas, even, that O'Connell is not in
-prison within twelve months of this time."
-
-"Very well: that is, that he's not put there and kept there for six
-months, in consequence of the verdict just given at the State trials."
-
-"No, my boy; that's not it. I said nothing about being kept there six
-months. They're going to try for a writ of error, or what the devil
-they call it, before the peers. But I'll bet you a cool hundred he is
-put in prison before twelve months are over, in consequence of the
-verdict. If he's locked up there for one night, I win. Will you take
-that?"
-
-"Well, I will," said Morris; and they both went to work at their little
-books.
-
-"I was in London," said Mat, "during the greater portion of the
-trial--and it's astonishing what unanimity of opinion there was at
-the club that the whole set would be acquitted. I heard Howard make
-bet, at the Reform Club, that the only man put in prison would be the
-Attorney-General."
-
-"He ought to have included the Chief Justice," said Morris. "By the
-bye, Mat, is that Howard the brother of the Honourable and Riverind
-Augustus?"
-
-"Upon my soul, I don't know whose brother he is. Who is the Riverind
-Augustus?"
-
-"Morris wants to tell a story, Mat,' said Blake; 'don't spoil him,
-now."
-
-"Indeed I don't," said the member: "I never told it to any one till I
-mentioned it to you the other day. It only happened the other day, but
-it _is_ worth telling."
-
-"Out with it, Morris," said Mat, "it isn't very long, is it?--because,
-if it is, we'll get Dot to give us a little whiskey and hot water
-first. I'm sick of the claret."
-
-"Just as you like, Mat," and Blake rang the bell, and the hot water was
-brought.
-
-"You know Savarius O'Leary," said Morris, anxious to tell his story,
-"eh, Tierney?"
-
-"What, Savy, with the whiskers?" said Tierney, "to be sure I do. Who
-doesn't know Savy?"
-
-"You know him, don't you, Lord Ballindine?" Morris was determined
-everybody should listen to him.
-
-"Oh yes, I know him; he comes from County Mayo--his property's close to
-mine; that is, the patch of rocks and cabins--which he has managed to
-mortgage three times over, and each time for more than its value--which
-he still calls the O'Leary estate."
-
-"Well; some time ago--that is, since London began to fill, O'Leary was
-seen walking down Regent Street, with a parson. How the deuce he'd ever
-got hold of the parson, or the parson of him, was never explained; but
-Phil Mahon saw him, and asked him who his friend in the white choker
-was. 'Is it my friend in black, you mane?' says Savy, 'thin, my frind
-was the Honourable and the Riverind Augustus Howard, the Dane.' 'Howard
-the Dane,' said Mahon, 'how the duce did any of the Howards become
-Danes?' 'Ah, bother!' said Savy, 'it's not of thim Danes he is; it's
-not the Danes of Shwaden I mane, at all, man; but a rural Dane of the
-Church of England.'"
-
-Mat Tierney laughed heartily at this, and even Frank forgot that his
-dignity had been hurt, and that he meant to be sulky; and he laughed
-also: the little member was delighted with his success, and felt
-himself encouraged to persevere.
-
-"Ah, Savy's a queer fellow, if you knew him," he continued, turning to
-Lord Ballindine, "and, upon my soul, he's no fool. Oh, if you knew him
-as well--"
-
-"Didn't you hear Ballindine say he was his next door neighbour in
-Mayo?" said Blake, "or, rather, next barrack neighbour; for they
-dispense with doors in Mayo--eh, Frank? and their houses are all cabins
-or barracks."
-
-"Why, we certainly don't pretend to all the Apuleian luxuries of
-Handicap Lodge; but we are ignorant enough to think ourselves
-comfortable, and swinish enough to enjoy our pitiable state."
-
-"I beg ten thousand pardons, my dear fellow. I didn't mean to offend
-your nationality. Castlebar, we must allow, is a fine provincial
-city--though Killala's the Mayo city, I believe; and Claremorris, which
-is your own town I think, is, as all admit, a gem of Paradise: only
-it's a pity so many of the houses have been unroofed lately. It adds
-perhaps to the picturesque effect, but it must, I should think, take
-away from the comfort."
-
-"Not a house in Claremorris belongs to me," said Lord Ballindine, again
-rather sulky, "or ever did to any of my family. I would as soon own
-Claremorris, though, as I would Castleblakeney. Your own town is quite
-as shattered-looking a place."
-
-"That's quite true--but I have some hopes that Castleblakeney will be
-blotted out of the face of creation before I come into possession."
-
-"But I was saying about Savy O'Leary," again interposed Morris, "did
-you ever hear what he did?"
-
-But Blake would not allow his guest the privilege of another story. "If
-you encourage Morris," said he, "we shall never get our whist," and
-with that he rose from the table and walked away into the next room.
-
-They played high. Morris always played high if he could, for he made
-money by whist. Tierney was not a gambler by profession; but the men he
-lived among all played, and he, therefore, got into the way of it, and
-played the game well, for he was obliged to do so in his own defence.
-Blake was an adept at every thing of the kind; and though the
-card-table was not the place where his light shone brightest, still he was
-quite at home at it.
-
-As might be supposed, Lord Ballindine did not fare well among the
-three. He played with each of them, one after the other, and lost with
-them all. Blake, to do him justice, did not wish to see his friend's
-money go into the little member's pocket, and, once or twice, proposed
-giving up; but Frank did not second the proposal, and Morris was
-inveterate. The consequence was that, before the table was broken up,
-Lord Ballindine had lost a sum of money which he could very ill spare,
-and went to bed in a very unenviable state of mind, in spite of the
-brilliant prospects on which his friends congratulated him.
-
-
-
-XVI.  BRIEN BORU
-
-
-The next morning, at breakfast, when Frank was alone with Blake, he
-explained to him how matters really stood at Grey Abbey. He told him
-how impossible he had found it to insist on seeing Miss Wyndham so soon
-after her brother's death, and how disgustingly disagreeable, stiff and
-repulsive the earl had been; and, by degrees, they got to talk of other
-things, and among them, Frank's present pecuniary miseries.
-
-"There can be no doubt, I suppose," said Dot, when Frank had consoled
-himself by anathematising the earl for ten minutes, "as to the fact of
-Miss Wyndham's inheriting her brother's fortune?"
-
-"Faith, I don't know; I never thought about her fortune if you'll
-believe me. I never even remembered that her brother's death would in
-any way affect her in the way of money, until after I left Grey Abbey."
-
-"Oh, I can believe you capable of anything in the way of imprudence."
-
-"Ah, but, Dot, to think of that pompous fool--who sits and caws in
-that dingy book-room of his, with as much wise self-confidence as an
-antiquated raven--to think of him insinuating that I had come there
-looking for Harry Wyndham's money; when, as you know, I was as ignorant
-of the poor fellow's death as Lord Cashel was himself a week ago.
-Insolent blackguard! I would never, willingly, speak another word to
-him, or put my foot inside that infernal door of his, if it were to get
-ten times all Harry Wyndham's fortune."
-
-"Then, if I understand you, you now mean to relinquish your claims to
-Miss Wyndham's hand."
-
-"No; I don't believe she ever sent the message her uncle gave me. I
-don't see why I'm to give her up, just because she's got this money."
-
-"Nor I, Frank, to tell the truth; especially considering how badly you
-want it yourself. But I don't think quarrelling with the uncle is the
-surest way to get the niece."
-
-"But, man, he quarrelled with me."
-
-"It takes two people to quarrel. If he quarrelled with you, do you be
-the less willing to come to loggerheads with him."
-
-"Wouldn't it be the best plan, Dot, to carry her off?"
-
-"She wouldn't go, my boy: rope ladders and post-chaises are out of
-fashion."
-
-"But if she's really fond of me--and, upon my honour, I don't believe
-I'm flattering myself in thinking that she is--why the deuce shouldn't
-she marry me, _malgre_ [27] Lord Cashel? She must be her own mistress
-in a week or two. By heavens, I cannot stomach that fellow's arrogant
-assumption of superiority."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 27: malgre--(French) in spite of; notwithstanding]
-
-"It will be much more convenient for her to marry you _bon gre_ [28]
-Lord Cashel, whom you may pitch to the devil, in any way you like best,
-as soon as you have Fanny Wyndham at Kelly's Court. But, till that
-happy time, take my advice, and submit to the cawing. Rooks and ravens
-are respectable birds, just because they do look so wise. It's a great
-thing to look wise; the doing so does an acknowledged fool, like Lord
-Cashel, very great credit."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 28: bon gre--(French) with the consent of]
-
-"But what ought I to do? I can't go to the man's house when he told me
-expressly not to do so."
-
-"Oh, yes, you can: not immediately, but by and by--in a month or six
-weeks. I'll tell you what I should do, in your place; and remember,
-Frank, I'm quite in earnest now, for it's a very different thing
-playing a game for twenty thousand pounds, which, to you, joined to a
-wife, would have been a positive irreparable loss, and starting for
-five or six times that sum, which would give you an income on which you
-might manage to live."
-
-"Well, thou sapient counsellor--but, I tell you beforehand, the chances
-are ten to one I sha'n't follow your plan."
-
-"Do as you like about that: you sha'n't, at any rate, have me to blame.
-I would in the first place, assure myself that Fanny inherited her
-brother's money."
-
-"There's no doubt about that. Lord Cashel said as much."
-
-"Make sure of it however. A lawyer'll do that for you, with very little
-trouble. Then, take your name off the turf at once; it's worth your
-while to do it now. You may either do it by a _bona fide_ sale of the
-horses, or by running them in some other person's name. Then, watch
-your opportunity, call at Grey Abbey, when the earl is not at home, and
-manage to see some of the ladies. If you can't do that, if you can't
-effect an _entree_, write to Miss Wyndham; don't be too lachrymose, or
-supplicatory, in your style, but ask her to give you a plain answer
-personally, or in her own handwriting."
-
-"And if she declines the honour?"
-
-"If, as you say and as I believe, she loves, or has loved you, I don't
-think she'll do so. She'll submit to a little parleying, and then
-she'll capitulate. But it will be much better that you should see her,
-if possible, without writing at all."
-
-"I don't like the idea of calling at Grey Abbey. I wonder whether
-they'll go to London this season?"
-
-"If they do, you can go after them. The truth is simply this,
-Ballindine; Miss Wyndham will follow her own fancy in the matter, in
-spite of her guardian; but, if you make no further advances to her, of
-course she can make none to you. But I think the game is in your own
-hand. You haven't the head to play it, or I should consider the stakes
-as good as won."
-
-"But then, about these horses, Dot. I wish I could sell them, out and
-out, at once."
-
-"You'll find it very difficult to get anything like the value for a
-horse that's well up for the Derby. You see, a purchaser must make up
-his mind to so much outlay: there's the purchase-money, and expense of
-English training, with so remote a chance of any speedy return."
-
-"But you said you'd advise me to sell them."
-
-"That's if you can get a purchaser:--or else run them in another name.
-You may run them in my name, if you like it; but Scott must understand
-that I've nothing whatever to do with the expense."
-
-"Would you not buy them yourself, Blake?"
-
-"No. I would not."
-
-"Why not?"
-
-"If I gave you anything like the value for them, the bargain would not
-suit me; and if I got them for what they'd be worth to me, you'd think,
-and other people would say, that I'd robbed you."
-
-Then followed a lengthened and most intricate discourse on the affairs
-of the stable. Frank much wanted his friend to take his stud entirely
-off his hands, but this Dot resolutely refused to do. In the course of
-conversation, Frank owned that the present state of his funds rendered
-it almost impracticable for him to incur the expense of sending his
-favourite, Brien Boru, to win laurels in England. He had lost nearly
-three hundred pounds the previous evening which his account at his
-banker's did not enable him to pay; his Dublin agent had declined
-advancing him more money at present, and his tradesmen were very
-importunate. In fact, he was in a scrape, and Dot must advise him how
-to extricate himself from it.
-
-"I'll tell you the truth, Ballindine," said he; "as far as I'm
-concerned myself, I never will lend money, except where I see, as a
-matter of business, that it is a good speculation to do so. I wouldn't
-do it for my father."
-
-"Who asked you?" said Frank, turning very red, and looking very angry.
-
-"You did not, certainly; but I thought you might, and you would have
-been annoyed when I refused you; now, you have the power of being
-indignant, instead. However, having said so much, I'll tell you what I
-think you should do, and what I will do to relieve you, as far as the
-horses are concerned. Do you go down to Kelly's Court, and remain there
-quiet for a time. You'll be able to borrow what money you absolutely
-want down there, if the Dublin fellows actually refuse; but do with as
-little as you can. The horses shall run in my name for twelve months.
-If they win, I will divide with you at the end of the year the amount
-won, after deducting their expenses. If they lose, I will charge you
-with half the amount lost, including the expenses. Should you not feel
-inclined, at the end of the year, to repay me this sum, I will then
-keep the horses, instead, or sell them at Dycer's, if you like it
-better, and hand you the balance if there be any. What do you say to
-this? You will be released from all trouble, annoyance, and expense,
-and the cattle will, I trust, be in good hands."
-
-"That is to say, that, for one year, you are to possess one half of
-whatever value the horses may be?"
-
-"Exactly: we shall be partners for one year."
-
-"To make that fair," said Frank, "you ought to put into the concern
-three horses, as good and as valuable as my three."
-
-"Yes; and you ought to bring into the concern half the capital to be
-expended in their training; and knowledge, experience, and skill in
-making use of them, equal to mine. No, Frank; you're mistaken if you
-think that I can afford to give up my time, merely for the purpose of
-making an arrangement to save you from trouble."
-
-"Upon my word, Dot," answered the other, "you're about the coolest hand
-I ever met! Did I ask you for your precious time, or anything else?
-You're always afraid that you're going to be done. Now, you might make
-a distinction between me and some of your other friends, and remember
-that I am not in the habit of doing anybody."
-
-"Why, I own I don't think it very likely that I, or indeed anyone else,
-should suffer much from you in that way, for your sin is not too much
-sharpness."
-
-"Then why do you talk about what you can afford to do?"
-
-"Because it's necessary. I made a proposal which you thought an unfair
-one. You mayn't believe me, but it is a most positive fact, that my
-only object in making that proposal was, to benefit you. You will find
-it difficult to get rid of your horses on any terms; and yet, with the
-very great stake before you in Miss Wyndham's fortune, it would be
-foolish in you to think of keeping them; and, on this account, I
-thought in what manner I could take them from you. If they belong to my
-stables I shall consider myself bound to run them to the best
-advantage, and"--
-
-"Well, well--for heaven's sake don't speechify about it."
-
-"Stop a moment, Frank, and listen, for I must make you understand. I
-must make you see that I am not taking advantage of your position, and
-trying to rob my own friend in my own house. I don't care what most
-people say of me, for in my career I must expect people to lie of me. I
-must, also, take care of myself. But I do wish you to know, that though
-I could not disarrange my schemes for you, I would not take you in."
-
-"Why, Dot--how can you go on so? I only thought I was taking a leaf out
-of your book, by being careful to make the best bargain I could."
-
-"Well, as I was saying--I would run the horses to the best
-advantage--especially Brien, for the Derby: by doing so, my whole book
-would be upset: I should have to bet all round again--and, very likely,
-not be able to get the bets I want. I could not do this without a very
-strong interest in the horse. Besides, you remember that I should have
-to go over with him to England myself, and that I should be obliged to
-be in England a great deal at a time when my own business would require
-me here."
-
-"My dear fellow," said Frank, "you're going on as though it were
-necessary to defend yourself. I never accused you of anything."
-
-"Never mind whether you did or no. You understand me now: if it will
-suit you, you can take my offer, but I should be glad to know at once."
-
-While this conversation was going on, the two young men had left the
-house, and sauntered out into Blake's stud-yard. Here were his stables,
-where he kept such horses as were not actually in the trainer's
-hands--and a large assortment of aged hunters, celebrated
-timber-jumpers, brood mares, thoroughbred fillies, cock-tailed colts,
-and promising foals. They were immediately joined by Blake's stud
-groom, who came on business intent, to request a few words with his
-master; which meant that Lord Ballindine was to retreat, as it was full
-time for his friend to proceed to his regular day's work. Blake's groom
-was a very different person in appearance, from the sort of servant in
-the possession of which the fashionable owner of two or three horses
-usually rejoices. He had no diminutive top boots; no loose brown
-breeches, buttoned low beneath the knee; no elongated waistcoat with
-capacious pockets; no dandy coat with remarkably short tail. He was a
-very ugly man of about fifty, named John Bottom, dressed somewhat like
-a seedy gentleman; but he understood his business well, and did it;
-and was sufficiently wise to know that he served his own pocket best,
-in the long run, by being true to his master, and by resisting the
-numerous tempting offers which were made to him by denizens of the turf
-to play foul with his master's horses. He was, therefore, a treasure to
-Blake; and he knew it, and valued himself accordingly.
-
-"Well, John," said his master, "I suppose I must desert Lord Ballindine
-again, and obey your summons. Your few words will last nearly till
-dinner, I suppose?"
-
-"Why, there is a few things, to be sure, 'll be the better for being
-talked over a bit, as his lordship knows well enough. I wish we'd as
-crack a nag in our stables, as his lordship."
-
-"Maybe we may, some day; one down and another come on, you know; as the
-butcher-boy said."
-
-"At any rate, your horses don't want bottom" said Frank.
-
-He--he--he! laughed John, or rather tried to do so. He had laughed at
-that joke a thousand times; and, in the best of humours, he wasn't a
-merry man.
-
-"Well, Frank," said Blake, "the cock has crowed; I must away. I suppose
-you'll ride down to Igoe's, and see Brien: but think of what I've said,
-and," he added, whispering--"remember that I will do the best I can for
-the animals, if you put them into my stables. They shall be made second
-to nothing, and shall only and always run to win."
-
-So, Blake and John Bottom walked off to the box stables and home
-paddocks.
-
-Frank ordered his horse, and complied with his friend's suggestion, by
-riding down to Igoe's. He was not in happy spirits as he went; he felt
-afraid that his hopes, with regard to Fanny, would be blighted; and
-that, if he persevered in his suit, he would only be harassed, annoyed,
-and disappointed. He did not see what steps he could take, or how he
-could manage to see her. It would be impossible for him to go to Grey
-Abbey, after having been, as he felt, turned out by Lord Cashel. Other
-things troubled him also. What should he now do with himself? It was
-true that he could go down to his own house; but everyone at Kelly's
-Court expected him to bring with him a bride and a fortune; and,
-instead of that, he would have to own that he had been jilted, and
-would be reduced to the disagreeable necessity of borrowing money from
-his own tenants. And then, that awful subject, money--took possession
-of him. What the deuce was he to do? What a fool he had been, to be
-seduced on to the turf by such a man as Blake! And then, he expressed a
-wish to himself that Blake had been--a long way off before he ever saw
-him. There he was, steward of the Curragh, the owner of the best horse
-in Ireland, and absolutely without money to enable him to carry on the
-game till he could properly retreat from it!
-
-Then he was a little unfair upon his friend: he accused him of knowing
-his position, and wishing to take advantage of it; and, by the time he
-had got to Igoe's, his mind was certainly not in a very charitable mood
-towards poor Dot. He had, nevertheless, determined to accept his offer,
-and to take a last look at the three Milesians.
-
-The people about the stables always made a great fuss with Lord
-Ballindine, partly because he was one of the stewards, and partly
-because he was going to run a crack horse for the Derby in England;
-and though, generally speaking, he did not care much for personal
-complimentary respect, he usually got chattered and flattered into good
-humour at Igoe's.
-
-"Well, my lord," said a sort of foreman, or partner, or managing man,
-who usually presided over the yard, "I think we'll be apt to get
-justice to Ireland on the downs this year. That is, they'll give us
-nothing but what we takes from 'em by hard fighting, or running, as the
-case may be."
-
-"How's Brien looking this morning, Grady?"
-
-"As fresh as a primrose, my lord, and as clear as crystal: he's ready,
-this moment, to run through any set of three years old as could be put
-on the Curragh, anyway."
-
-"I'm afraid you're putting him on too forward."
-
-"Too forrard, is it, my lord? not a bit. He's a hoss as naturally don't
-pick up flesh; though he feeds free, too. He's this moment all wind and
-bottom, though, as one may say, he's got no training. He's niver been
-sthretched yet. Faith it's thrue I'm telling you, my lord."
-
-"I know Scott doesn't like getting horses, early in the season, that
-are too fine--too much drawn up; he thinks they lose power by it, and
-so they do;--it's the distance that kills them, at the Derby. It's so
-hard to get a young horse to stay the distance."
-
-"That's thrue, shure enough, my lord; and there isn't a gentleman this
-side the wather, anyway, undherstands thim things betther than your
-lordship."
-
-"Well, Grady, let's have a look at the young chieftain: he's all right
-about the lungs, anyway."
-
-"And feet too, my lord; niver saw a set of claner feet with plates on:
-and legs too! If you were to canter him down the road, I don't think
-he'd feel it; not that I'd like to thry, though."
-
-"Why, he's not yet had much to try them."
-
-"Faix, he has, my lord: didn't he win the Autumn Produce Stakes?"
-
-"The only thing he ever ran for."
-
-"Ah, but I tell you, as your lordship knows very well--no one
-betther--that it's a ticklish thing to bring a two year old to the
-post, in anything like condition--with any running in him at all, and
-not hurt his legs."
-
-"But I think he's all right--eh, Grady?"
-
-"Right?--your lordship knows he's right. I wish he may be made righter
-at John Scott's, that's all. But that's unpossible."
-
-"Of course, Grady, you think he might be trained here, as well as at
-the other side of the water?"
-
-"No, I don't, my lord: quite different. I've none of thim ideas at all,
-and never had, thank God. I knows what we can do, and I knows what they
-can do:--breed a hoss in Ireland, train him in the North of England,
-and run him in the South; and he'll do your work for you, and win your
-money, steady and shure."
-
-"And why not run in the North, too?"
-
-"They're too 'cute, my lord: they like to pick up the crumbs
-themselves--small blame to thim in that matther. No; a bright Irish
-nag, with lots of heart, like Brien Boru, is the hoss to stand on for
-the Derby; where all run fair and fair alike, the best wins;--but I
-won't say but he'll be the betther for a little polishing at Johnny
-Scott's."
-
-"Besides, Grady, no horse could run immediately after a sea voyage. Do
-you remember what a show we made of Peter Simple at Kilrue?"
-
-"To be shure I does, my lord: besides, they've proper gallops there,
-which we haven't--and they've betther manes of measuring horses:--why,
-they can measure a horse to half a pound, and tell his rale pace on a
-two-mile course, to a couple of seconds.--Take the sheets off, Larry,
-and let his lordship run his hand over him. He's as bright as a star,
-isn't he?"
-
-"I think you're getting him too fine. I'm sure Scott'll say so."
-
-"Don't mind him, my lord. He's not like one of those English cats, with
-jist a dash of speed about 'em, and nothing more--brutes that they put
-in training half a dozen times in as many months. Thim animals pick up
-a lot of loose, flabby flesh in no time, and loses it in less; and, in
-course, av' they gets a sweat too much, there's nothin left in 'em; not
-a hapoth. Brien's a different guess sort of animal from that."
-
-"Were you going to have him out, Grady?"
-
-"Why, we was not--that is, only just for walking exercise, with his
-sheets on: but a canter down the half mile slope, and up again by the
-bushes won't go agin him."
-
-"Well, saddle him then, and let Pat get up."
-
-"Yes, my lord"; and Brien was saddled by the two men together, with
-much care and ceremony; and Pat was put up--"and now, Pat," continued
-Grady, "keep him well in hand down the slope--don't let him out at all
-at all, till you come to the turn: when you're fairly round the corner,
-just shake your reins the laste in life, and when you're halfway up the
-rise, when the lad begins to snort a bit, let him just see the end of
-the switch--just raise it till it catches his eye; and av' he don't
-show that he's disposed for running, I'm mistaken. We'll step across to
-the bushes, my lord, and see him come round."
-
-Lord Ballindine and the managing man walked across to the bushes
-accordingly, and Pat did exactly as he was desired. It was a pretty
-thing to see the beautiful young animal, with his sleek brown coat
-shining like a lady's curls, arching his neck, and throwing down his
-head, in his impatience to start. He was the very picture of health and
-symmetry; when he flung up his head you'd think the blood was running
-from his nose, his nostrils were so ruddy bright. He cantered off in
-great impatience, and fretted and fumed because the little fellow on
-his back would be the master, and not let him have his play--down the
-slope, and round the corner by the trees. It was beautiful to watch
-him, his motions were so easy, so graceful. At the turn he answered to
-the boy's encouragement, and mended his pace, till again he felt the
-bridle, and then, as the jock barely moved his right arm, he bounded up
-the rising ground, past the spot where Lord Ballindine and the trainer
-were standing, and shot away till he was beyond the place where he
-knew his gallop ordinarily ended. As Grady said, he hadn't yet been
-stretched; he had never yet tried his own pace, and he had that look so
-beautiful in a horse when running, of working at his ease, and much
-within his power.
-
-"He's a beautiful creature," said Lord Ballindine, as he mournfully
-reflected that he was about to give up to Dot Blake half the possession
-of his favourite, and the whole of the nominal title. It was such a
-pity he should be so hampered; the mere _eclat_ of possessing such a
-horse was so great a pleasure; "He is a fine creature," said he, "and,
-I am sure, will do well."
-
-"Your lordship may say that: he'll go precious nigh to astonish the
-Saxons, I think. I suppose the pick-up at the Derby'll be nigh four
-thousand this year."
-
-"I suppose it will--something like that."
-
-"Well; I would like a nag out of our stables to do the trick on the
-downs, and av' we does it iver, it'll be now. Mr Igoe's standing a deal
-of cash on him. I wonder is Mr Blake standing much on him, my lord?"
-
-"You'd be precious deep, Grady, if you could find what he's doing in
-that way."
-
-"That's thrue for you, my lord; but av' he, or your lordship, wants
-to get more on, now's the time. I'll lay twenty thousand pounds this
-moment, that afther he's been a fortnight at Johnny Scott's the odds
-agin him won't be more than ten to one, from that day till the morning
-he comes out on the downs."
-
-"I dare say not."
-
-"I wondher who your lordship'll put up?"
-
-"That must depend on Scott, and what sort of a string he has running.
-He's nothing, as yet, high in the betting, except Hardicanute."
-
-"Nothing, my lord; and, take my word for it, that horse is ownly jist
-run up for the sake of the betting; that's not his nathural position.
-Well, Pat, you may take the saddle off. Will your lordship see the mare
-out to-day?"
-
-"Not to-day, Grady. Let's see, what's the day she runs?"
-
-"The fifteenth of May, my lord. I'm afraid Mr Watts' Patriot 'll be too
-much for her; that's av' he'll run kind; but he don't do that always.
-Well, good morning to your lordship."
-
-"Good morning, Grady;" and Frank rode back towards Handicap Lodge.
-
-He had a great contest with himself on his road home. He had hated
-the horses two days since, when he was at Grey Abbey, and had hated
-himself, for having become their possessor; and now he couldn't bear
-the thought of parting with them. To be steward of the Curragh--to own
-the best horse of the year--and to win the Derby, were very pleasant
-things in themselves; and for what was he going to give over all this
-glory, pleasure and profit, to another? To please a girl who had
-rejected him, even jilted him, and to appease an old earl who had
-already turned him out of his house! No, he wouldn't do it. By the time
-that he was half a mile from Igoe's stables he had determined that, as
-the girl was gone it would be a pity to throw the horses after her;
-he would finish this year on the turf; and then, if Fanny Wyndham was
-still her own mistress after Christmas, he would again ask her her
-mind. "If she's a girl of spirit," he said to himself--"and nobody
-knows better than I do that she is, she won't like me the worse for
-having shown that I'm not to be led by the nose by a pompous old
-fool like Lord Cashel," and he rode on, fortifying himself in this
-resolution, for the second half mile. "But what the deuce should he do
-about money?" There was only one more half mile before he was again at
-Handicap Lodge.--Guinness's people had his title-deeds, and he knew
-he had twelve hundred a year after paying the interest of the old
-incumbrances. They hadn't advanced him much since he came of age;
-certainly not above five thousand pounds; and it surely was very hard
-he could not get five or six hundred pounds when he wanted it so much;
-it was very hard that he shouldn't be able to do what he liked with his
-own, like the Duke of Newcastle. However, the money must be had: he
-must pay Blake and Tierney the balance of what they had won at whist,
-and the horse couldn't go over the water till the wind was raised. If
-he was driven very hard he might get something from Martin Kelly. These
-unpleasant cogitations brought him over the third half mile, and he
-rode through the gate of Handicap Lodge in a desperate state of
-indecision.
-
-"I'll tell you what I'll do, Dot," he said, when he met his friend
-coming in from his morning's work; "and I'm deuced sorry to do it, for
-I shall be giving you the best horse of his year, and something tells
-me he'll win the Derby."
-
-"I suppose 'something' means old Jack Igoe, or that blackguard Grady,"
-said Dot. "But as to his winning, that's as it may be. You know the
-chances are sixteen to one he won't."
-
-"Upon my honour I don't think they are."
-
-"Will you take twelve to one?"
-
-"Ah! youk now, Dot, I'm not now wanting to bet on the horse with you. I
-was only saying that I've a kind of inward conviction that he will
-win."
-
-"My dear Frank," said the other, "if men selling horses could also sell
-their inward convictions with them, what a lot of articles of that
-description there would be in the market! But what were you going to
-say you'd do?"
-
-"I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll agree to your terms providing you'll
-pay half the expenses of the horses since the last race each of them
-ran. You must see that would be only fair, supposing the horses
-belonged to you, equally with me, ever since that time."
-
-"It would be quite fair, no doubt, if I agreed to it: it would be quite
-fair also if I agreed to give you five hundred pounds; but I will do
-neither one nor the other."
-
-"But look here, Dot--Brien ran for the Autumn Produce Stakes last
-October, and won them: since then he has done nothing to reimburse me
-for his expense, nor yet has anything been taken out of him by running.
-Surely, if you are to have half the profits, you should at any rate pay
-half the expenses?"
-
-"That's very well put, Frank; and if you and I stood upon equal ground,
-with an arbiter between us by whose decision we were bound to abide,
-and to whom the settlement of the question was entrusted, your
-arguments would, no doubt, be successful, but--"
-
-"Well that's the fair way of looking at it."
-
-"But, as I was going to say, that's not the case. We are neither of
-us bound to take any one's decision; and, therefore, any terms which
-either of us chooses to accept must be fair. Now I have told you my
-terms--the lowest price, if you like to call it so,--at which I will
-give your horses the benefit of my experience, and save you from their
-immediate pecuniary pressure; and I will neither take any other terms,
-nor will I press these on you."
-
-"Why, Blake, I'd sooner deal with all the Jews of Israel--"
-
-"Stop, Frank: one word of abuse, and I'll wash my hands of the matter
-altogether."
-
-"Wash away then, I'll keep the horses, though I have to sell my hunters
-and the plate at Kelly's Court into the bargain."
-
-"I was going to add--only your energy's far too great to allow of a
-slow steady man like me finishing his sentence--I was going to say
-that, if you're pressed for money as you say, and if it will be any
-accommodation, I will let you have two hundred and fifty pounds at five
-per cent. on the security of the horses; that is, that you will be
-charged with that amount, and the interest, in the final closing of the
-account at the end of the year, before the horses are restored to you."
-
-Had an uninterested observer been standing by he might have seen with
-half an eye that Blake's coolness was put on, and that his indifference
-to the bargain was assumed. This offer of the loan was a second bid,
-when he found the first was likely to be rejected: it was made, too,
-at the time that he was positively declaring that he would make none
-but the first offer. Poor Frank!--he was utterly unable to cope with
-his friend at the weapons with which they were playing, and he was
-consequently most egregiously plundered. But it was in an affair of
-horse-flesh, and the sporting world, when it learned the terms on which
-the horses were transferred from Lord Ballindine's name to that of Mr
-Blake, had not a word of censure to utter against the latter. He was
-pronounced to be very wide awake, and decidedly at the top of his
-profession; and Lord Ballindine was spoken of, for a week, with
-considerable pity and contempt.
-
-When Blake mentioned the loan Frank got up, and stood with his back to
-the fire; then bit his lips, and walked twice up and down the room,
-with his hands in his pockets, and then he paused, looked out of the
-window, and attempted to whistle: then he threw himself into an
-armchair, poked out both his legs as far as he could, ran his fingers
-through his hair, and set to work hard to make up his mind. But it was
-no good; in about five minutes he found he could not do it; so he took
-out his purse, and, extracting half-a-crown, threw it up to the
-ceiling, saying,
-
-"Well, Dot--head or harp? If you're right, you have them."
-
-"Harp," cried Dot.
-
-They both examined the coin. "They're yours," said Frank, with much
-solemnity; "and now you've got the best horse--yes, I believe the very
-best horse alive, for nothing."
-
-"Only half of him, Frank."
-
-"Well," said Frank; "it's done now, I suppose."
-
-"Oh, of course it is," said Dot: "I'll draw out the agreement, and give
-you a cheque for the money to-night."
-
-And so he did; and Frank wrote a letter to Igoe, authorizing him to
-hand over the horses to Mr Blake's groom, stating that he had sold
-them--for so ran his agreement with Dot--and desiring that his bill
-for training, &c., might be forthwith forwarded to Kelly's Court. Poor
-Frank! he was ashamed to go to take a last look at his dear favourites,
-and tell his own trainer that he had sold his own horses.
-
-The next morning saw him, with his servant, on the Ballinasloe coach,
-travelling towards Kelly's Court; and, also, saw Brien Boru, Granuell,
-and Finn M'Goul led across the downs, from Igoe's stables to Handicap
-Lodge.
-
-The handsome sheets, hoods, and rollers, in which they had hitherto
-appeared, and on which the initial B was alone conspicuous, were
-carefully folded up, and they were henceforth seen in plainer, but as
-serviceable apparel, labelled W. B.
-
-"Will you give fourteen to one against Brien Boru?" said Viscount Avoca
-to Lord Tathenham Corner, about ten days after this, at Tattersall's.
-
-"I will," said Lord Tathenham.
-
-"In hundreds?" said the sharp Irishman.
-
-"Very well," said Lord Tathenham; and the bet was booked.
-
-"You didn't know, I suppose," said the successful viscount, "that Dot
-Blake has bought Brien Boru?"
-
-"And who the devil's Dot Blake?" said Lord Tathenham.
-
-"Oh! you'll know before May's over," said the viscount.
-
-
-
-
-XVII.  MARTIN KELLY'S COURTSHIP
-
-
-It will be remembered that the Tuam attorney, Daly, dined with Barry
-Lynch, at Dunmore House, on the same evening that Martin Kelly reached
-home after his Dublin excursion; and that, on that occasion, a good
-deal of interesting conversation took place after dinner. Barry,
-however, was hardly amenable to reason at that social hour, and it was
-not till the following morning that he became thoroughly convinced that
-it would be perfectly impossible for him to make his sister out a
-lunatic to the satisfaction of the Chancellor.
-
-He then agreed to abandon the idea, and, in lieu of it, to indict,
-or at any rate to threaten to indict, the widow Kelly and her son
-for a conspiracy, and an attempt to inveigle his sister Anty into a
-disgraceful marriage, with the object of swindling her out of her
-property.
-
-"I'll see Moylan, Mr Lynch," said Daly; "and if I can talk him over, I
-think we might succeed in frightening the whole set of them, so far as
-to prevent the marriage. Moylan must know that if your sister was to
-marry young Kelly, there'd be an end to his agency; but we must promise
-him something, Mr Lynch."
-
-"Yes; I suppose we must pay him, before we get anything out of him."
-
-"No, not before--but he must understand that he will get something, if
-he makes himself useful. You must let me explain to him that if the
-marriage is prevented, you will make no objection to his continuing to
-act as Miss Lynch's agent; and I might hint the possibility of his
-receiving the rents on the whole property."
-
-"Hint what you like, Daly, but don't tie me down to the infernal
-ruffian. I suppose we can throw him overboard afterwards, can't we?"
-
-"Why, not altogether, Mr Lynch. If I make him a definite promise, I
-shall expect you to keep to it."
-
-"Confound him!--but tell me, Daly; what is it he's to do?--and what is
-it we're to do?"
-
-"Why, Mr Lynch, it's more than probable, I think, that this plan of
-Martin Kelly's marrying your sisther may have been talked over between
-the ould woman, Moylan, and the young man; and if so, that's something
-like a conspiracy. If I could worm that out of him, I think I'd manage
-to frighten them."
-
-"And what the deuce had I better do? You see, there was a bit of a row
-between us. That is, Anty got frightened when I spoke to her of this
-rascal, and then she left the house. Couldn't you make her understand
-that she'd be all right if she'd come to the house again?"
-
-While Barry Lynch had been sleeping off the effects of the punch, Daly
-had been inquiring into the circumstances under which Anty had left the
-house, and he had pretty nearly learned the truth; he knew, therefore,
-how much belief to give to his client's representation.
-
-"I don't think," said he, "that your sister will be likely to come back
-at present; she will probably find herself quieter and easier at the
-inn. You see, she has been used to a quiet life."
-
-"But, if she remains there, she can marry that young ruffian any moment
-she takes it into her head to do so. There's always some rogue of a
-priest ready to do a job of that sort."
-
-"Exactly so, Mr Lynch. Of course your sister can marry whom she
-pleases, and when she pleases, and neither you nor any one else can
-prevent her; but still--"
-
-"Then what the devil's the use of my paying you to come here and tell
-me that?"
-
-"That's your affair: I didn't come without being sent for. But I was
-going to tell you that, though we can't prevent her from marrying if
-she pleases, we may make her afraid to do so. You had better write her
-a kind, affectionate note, regretting what has taken place between
-you, and promising to give her no molestation of any kind, if she will
-return to her own house,--and keep a copy of this letter. Then I will
-see Moylan; and, if I can do anything with him, it will be necessary
-that you should also see him. You could come over to Tuam, and meet
-him in my office; and then I will try and force an entrance into the
-widow's castle, and, if possible, see your sister, and humbug the
-ould woman into a belief that she has laid herself open to criminal
-indictment. We might even go so far as to have notices served on them;
-but, if they snap their fingers at us, we can do nothing further. My
-advice in that case would be, that you should make the best terms in
-your power with Martin Kelly."
-
-"And let the whole thing go! I'd sooner--Why, Daly, I believe you're as
-bad as Blake! You're afraid of these huxtering thieves!"
-
-"If you go on in that way, Mr Lynch, you'll get no professional
-gentleman to act with you. I give you my best advice; it you don't like
-it, you needn't follow it; but you won't get a solicitor in Connaught
-to do better for you than what I'm proposing."
-
-"Confusion!" muttered Barry, and he struck the hot turf in the grate a
-desperate blow with the tongs which he had in his hands, and sent the
-sparks and bits of fire flying about the hearth.
-
-"The truth is, you see, your sister's in her full senses; there's the
-divil a doubt of that; the money's her own, and she can marry whom she
-pleases. All that we can do is to try and make the Kellys think they
-have got into a scrape."
-
-"But this letter--What on earth am I to say to her?"
-
-"I'll just put down what I would say, were I you; and if you like you
-can copy it." Daly then wrote the following letter--
-
-
-   My Dear Anty,
-
-   Before taking other steps, which could not fail of being very
-   disagreeable to you and to others, I wish to point out to you how
-   injudiciously you are acting in leaving your own house; and to try
-   to induce you to do that which will be most beneficial to yourself,
-   and most conducive to your happiness and respectability. If you
-   will return to Dunmore House, I most solemnly promise to leave you
-   unmolested. I much regret that my violence on Thursday should have
-   annoyed you, but I can assure you it was attributable merely to my
-   anxiety on your account. Nothing, however, shall induce me to repeat
-   it. But you must be aware that a little inn is not a fit place for
-   you to be stopping at; and I am obliged to tell you that I have
-   conclusive evidence of a conspiracy having been formed, by the
-   family with whom you are staying, to get possession of your money;
-   and that this conspiracy was entered into very shortly after the
-   contents of my father's will had been made public. I _must_ have
-   this fact proved at the Assizes, and the disreputable parties to it
-   punished, unless you will consent, at any rate for a time, to put
-   yourself under the protection of your brother.
-
-   In the meantime pray believe me, dear Anty, in spite of
-   appearances,
-
-   Your affectionate brother,
-
-   BARRY LYNCH.
-
-
-It was then agreed that this letter should be copied and signed by
-Barry, and delivered by Terry on the following morning, which was
-Sunday. Daly then returned to Tuam, with no warm admiration for his
-client.
-
-In the meantime the excitement at the inn, arising from Anty's arrival
-and Martin's return, was gradually subsiding. These two important
-events, both happening on the same day, sadly upset the domestic
-economy of Mrs Kelly's establishment. Sally had indulged in tea almost
-to stupefaction, and Kattie's elfin locks became more than ordinarily
-disordered. On the following morning, however, things seemed to fall
-a little more into their places: the widow was, as usual, behind her
-counter; and if her girls did not give her as much assistance as she
-desired of them, and as much as was usual with them, they were perhaps
-excusable, for they could not well leave their new guest alone on the
-day after her coming to them.
-
-Martin went out early to Toneroe; doubtless the necessary labours of
-the incipient spring required him at the farm but I believe that if his
-motives were analysed, he hardly felt himself up to a _tete-a-tete_
-with his mistress, before he had enjoyed a cool day's consideration of
-the extraordinary circumstances which had brought her into the inn as
-his mother's guest. He, moreover, wished to have a little undisturbed
-conversation with Meg, and to learn from her how Anty might be inclined
-towards him just at present. So Martin spent his morning among his
-lambs and his ploughs; and was walking home, towards dusk, tired
-enough, when he met Barry Lynch, on horseback, that hero having come
-out, as usual, for his solitary ride, to indulge in useless dreams of
-the happy times he would have, were his sister only removed from her
-tribulations in this world. Though Martin had never been on friendly
-terms with his more ambitious neighbour, there had never, up to this
-time, been any quarrel between them, and he therefore just muttered
-"Good morning, Mr Lynch," as he passed him on the road.
-
-Barry said nothing, and did not appear to see him as he passed; but
-some idea struck him as soon as he had passed, and he pulled in his
-horse and hallooed out "Kelly!"--and, as Martin stopped, he added,
-"Come here a moment--I want to speak to you."
-
-"Well, Mr Barry, what is it?" said the other, returning. Lynch paused,
-and evidently did not know whether to speak or let it alone. At last he
-said, "Never mind--I'll get somebody else to say what I was going to
-say. But you'd better look sharp what you're about, my lad, or you'll
-find yourself in a scrape that you don't dream of."
-
-"And is that all you called me back for?" said Martin.
-
-"That's all I mean to say to you at present."
-
-"Well then, Mr Lynch, I must say you're very good, and I'm shure I will
-look sharp enough. But, to my thinking, d'you know, you want looking
-afther yourself a precious dale more than I do," and then he turned to
-proceed homewards, but said, as he was going--"Have you any message for
-your sisther, Mr Lynch?"
-
-"By--! my young man, I'll make you pay for what you're doing," answered
-Barry.
-
-"I know you'll be glad to hear she's pretty well: she's coming round
-from the thratement she got the other night; though, by all accounts,
-it's a wondher she's alive this moment to tell of it."
-
-Barry did not attempt any further reply, but rode on, sorry enough that
-he had commenced the conversation. Martin got home in time for a snug
-tea with Anty and his sisters, and succeeded in prevailing on the three
-to take each a glass of punch; and, before Anty went to bed he began
-to find himself more at his ease with her, and able to call her by her
-Christian name without any disagreeable emotion. He certainly had a
-most able coadjutor in Meg. She made room on the sofa for him between
-herself and his mistress, and then contrived that the room should be
-barely sufficient, so that Anty was rather closely hemmed up in one
-corner: moreover, she made Anty give her opinion as to Martin's looks
-after his metropolitan excursion, and tried hard to make Martin pay
-some compliments to Anty's appearance. But in this she failed, although
-she gave him numerous opportunities.
-
-However, they passed the evening very comfortably,--quite sufficiently
-so to make Anty feel that the kindly, humble friendship of the inn was
-infinitely preferable to the miserable grandeur of Dunmore House; and
-it is probable that all the lovemaking in the world would not have
-operated so strongly in Martin's favour as this feeling. Meg, however,
-was not satisfied, for as soon as she had seen Jane and Anty into the
-bed-room she returned to her brother, and lectured him as to his
-lukewarm manifestations of affection.
-
-"Martin," said she, returning into the little sitting-room, and
-carefully shutting the door after her, "you're the biggest bosthoon of
-a gandher I ever see, to be losing your opportunities with Anty this
-way! I b'lieve it's waiting you are for herself to come forward to you.
-Do you think a young woman don't expect something more from a lover
-than jist for you to sit by her, and go on all as one as though she
-was one of your own sisthers? Av' once she gets out of this before the
-priest has made one of the two of you, mind, I tell you, it'll be all
-up with you. I wondher, Martin, you haven't got more pluck in you!"
-
-"Oh! bother, Meg. You're thinking of nothing but kissing and
-slobbhering.--Anty's not the same as you and Jane, and doesn't be all
-agog for such nonsense!"
-
-"I tell you, Martin, Anty's a woman; and, take my word for it, what
-another girl likes won't come amiss to her. Besides, why don't you
-spake to her?"
-
-"Spake?--why, what would you have me spake?"
-
-"Well, Martin, you're a fool. Have you, or have you not, made up your
-mind to marry Anty?"
-
-"To be shure I will, av' she'll have me."
-
-"And do you expect her to have you without asking?"
-
-"Shure, you know, didn't I ask her often enough?"
-
-"Ah, but you must do more than jist ask her that way. She'll never make
-up her mind to go before the priest, unless you say something sthronger
-to her. Jist tell her, plump out, you're ready and willing, and get the
-thing done before Lent. What's to hindher you?--shure, you know," she
-added, in a whisper, "you'll not get sich a fortune as Anty's in your
-way every day. Spake out, man, and don't be afraid of her: take my word
-she won't like you a bit the worse for a few kisses."
-
-Martin promised to comply with his sister's advice, and to sound Anty
-touching their marriage on the following morning after mass.
-
-On the Sunday morning, at breakfast, the widow proposed to Anty that
-she should go to mass with herself and her daughters; but Anty trembled
-so violently at the idea of showing herself in public, after her escape
-from Dunmore House, that the widow did not press her to do so, although
-afterwards she expressed her disapprobation of Anty's conduct to her
-own girls.
-
-"I don't see what she has to be afeard of," said she, "in going to
-get mass from her own clergyman in her own chapel. She don't think, I
-suppose, that Barry Lynch'd dare come in there to pull her out, before
-the blessed altar, glory be to God."
-
-"Ah but, mother, you know, she has been so frighted."
-
-"Frighted, indeed! She'll get over these tantrums, I hope, before
-Sunday next, or I know where I'll wish her again."
-
-So Anty was left at home, and the rest of the family went to mass. When
-the women returned, Meg manoeuvred greatly, and, in fine, successfully,
-that no one should enter the little parlour to interrupt the wooing she
-intended should take place there. She had no difficulty with Jane, for
-she told her what her plans were; and though her less energetic sister
-did not quite agree in the wisdom of her designs, and pronounced an
-opinion that it would be "better to let things settle down a bit,"
-still she did not presume to run counter to Meg's views; but Meg had
-some work to dispose of her mother. It would not have answered at all,
-as Meg had very well learned herself, to caution her mother not to
-interrupt Martin in his love-making, for the widow had no charity for
-such follies. She certainly expected her daughters to get married, and
-wished them to be well and speedily settled; but she watched anything
-like a flirtation on their part as closely as a cat does a mouse.
-If any young man were in the house, she'd listen to the fall of his
-footsteps with the utmost care; and when she had reason to fear that
-there was anything like a lengthened _tete-a-tete_ upstairs, she would
-steal on the pair, if possible, unawares, and interrupt, without the
-least reserve, any billing and cooing which might be going on, sending
-the delinquent daughter to her work, and giving a glower at the swain,
-which she expected might be sufficient to deter him from similar
-offences for some little time.
-
-The girls, consequently, were taught to be on the alert--to steal about
-on tiptoe, to elude their mother's watchful ear, to have recourse to a
-thousand little methods of deceiving her, and to baffle her with her
-own weapons. The mother, if she suspected that any prohibited frolic
-was likely to be carried on, at a late hour, would tell her daughters
-that she was going to bed, and would shut herself up for a couple of
-hours in her bed-room, and then steal out eavesdropping, peeping
-through key-holes and listening at door-handles; and the daughters,
-knowing their mother's practice, would not come forth till the
-listening and peeping had been completed, and till they had
-ascertained, by some infallible means, that the old woman was between
-the sheets.
-
-Each party knew the tricks of the other; and yet, taking it all in all,
-the widow got on very well with her children, and everybody said what
-a good mother she had been: she was accustomed to use deceit, and was
-therefore not disgusted by it in others. Whether the system of domestic
-manners which I have described is one likely to induce to sound
-restraint and good morals is a question which I will leave to be
-discussed by writers on educational points.
-
-However Meg managed it, she did contrive that her mother should not go
-near the little parlour this Sunday morning, and Anty was left alone,
-to receive her lover's visit. I regret to say that he was long in
-paying it. He loitered about the chapel gates before he came home; and
-seemed more than usually willing to talk to anyone about anything. At
-last, however, just as Meg was getting furious, he entered the inn.
-
-"Why, Martin, you born ideot--av' she ain't waiting for you this hour
-and more!"
-
-"Thim that's long waited for is always welcome when they do come,"
-replied Martin.
-
-"Well afther all I've done for you! Are you going in now?--cause, av'
-you don't, I'll go and tell her not to be tasing herself about you.
-I'll neither be art or part in any such schaming."
-
-"Schaming, is it, Meg? Faith, it'd be a clever fellow'd beat you at
-that," and, without waiting for his sister's sharp reply, he walked
-into the little room where Anty was sitting.
-
-"So, Anty, you wouldn't come to mass?" he began.
-
-"Maybe I'll go next Sunday," said she.
-
-"It's a long time since you missed mass before, I'm thinking."
-
-"Not since the Sunday afther father's death."
-
-"It's little you were thinking then how soon you'd be stopping down
-here with us at the inn."
-
-"That's thrue for you, Martin, God knows."
-
-At this point of the conversation Martin stuck fast: he did not know
-Rosalind's recipe [29] for the difficulty a man feels, when he finds
-himself gravelled for conversation with his mistress; so he merely
-scratched his head, and thought hard to find what he'd say next. I
-doubt whether the conviction, which was then strong on his mind, that
-Meg was listening at the keyhole to every word that passed, at all
-assisted him in the operation. At last, some Muse came to his aid, and
-he made out another sentence.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 29: Rosalind's recipe--In _As You Like It_, Act III,
-                   Sc. ii, Rosalind, disguised as a young man,
-                   instructs Orlando to practice his wooing on her.]
-
-"It was very odd my finding you down here, all ready before me, wasn't
-it?"
-
-"'Deed it was: your mother was a very good woman to me that morning,
-anyhow."
-
-"And tell me now, Anty, do you like the inn?"
-
-"'Deed I do--but it's quare, like."
-
-"How quare?"
-
-"Why, having Meg and Jane here: I wasn't ever used to anyone to talk
-to, only just the servants."
-
-"You'll have plenty always to talk to now--eh, Anty?" and Martin tried
-a sweet look at his lady love.
-
-"I'm shure I don't know. Av' I'm only left quiet, that's what I most
-care about."
-
-"But, Anty, tell me--you don't want always to be what you call quiet?"
-
-"Oh! but I do--why not?"
-
-"But you don't mane, Anty, that you wouldn't like to have some kind of
-work to do--some occupation, like?"
-
-"Why, I wouldn't like to be idle; but a person needn't be idle because
-they're quiet."
-
-"And that's thrue, Anty." And Martin broke down again.
-
-"There'd be a great crowd in chapel, I suppose?" said Anty.
-
-"There was a great crowd."
-
-"And what was father Geoghegan preaching about?"
-
-"Well, then, I didn't mind. To tell the truth, Anty, I came out most
-as soon as the preaching began; only I know he told the boys to pray
-that the liberathor might be got out of his throubles; and so they
-should--not that there's much to throuble him, as far as the verdict's
-concerned."
-
-"Isn't there then? I thought they made him out guilty?"
-
-"So they did, the false ruffians: but what harum 'll that do? they
-daren't touch a hair of his head!"
-
-Politics, however, are not a favourable introduction to love-making:
-so Martin felt, and again gave up the subject, in the hopes that he
-might find something better. "What a fool the man is!" thought Meg to
-herself, at the door--"if I had a lover went on like that, wouldn't I
-pull his ears!"
-
-Martin got up--walked across the room--looked out of the little
-window--felt very much ashamed of himself, and, returning, sat himself
-down on the sofa.
-
-"Anty," he said, at last, blushing nearly brown as he spoke; "Were you
-thinking of what I was spaking to you about before I went to Dublin?"
-
-Anty blushed also, now. "About what?" she said.
-
-"Why, just about you and me making a match of it. Come, Anty, dear,
-what's the good of losing time? I've been thinking of little else; and,
-after what's been between us, you must have thought the matther over
-too, though you do let on to be so innocent. Come, Anty, now that you
-and mother's so thick, there can be nothing against it."
-
-"But indeed there is, Martin, a great dale against it--though I'm sure
-it's good of you to be thinking of me. There's so much against it, I
-think we had betther be of one mind, and give it over at once."
-
-"And what's to hinder us marrying, Anty, av' yourself is plazed? Av'
-you and I, and mother are plazed, sorrow a one that I know of has a
-word to say in the matther."
-
-"But Barry don't like it!"
-
-"And, afther all, are you going to wait for what Barry likes? You
-didn't wait for what was plazing to Barry Lynch when you came down
-here; nor yet did mother when she went up and fetched you down at five
-in the morning, dreading he'd murdher you outright. And it was thrue
-for her, for he would, av' he was let, the brute. And are you going to
-wait for what he likes?"
-
-"Whatever he's done, he's my brother; and there's only the two of us."
-
-"But it's not that, Anty--don't you know it's not that? Isn't it
-because you're afraid of him? because he threatened and frightened you?
-And what on 'arth could he do to harum you av' you was the wife of--of
-a man who'd, anyway, not let Barry Lynch, or anyone else, come between
-you and your comfort and aise?"
-
-"But you don't know how wretched I've been since he spoke to me
-about--about getting myself married: you don't know what I've suffered;
-and I've a feeling that good would never come of it."
-
-"And, afther all, are you going to tell me now, that I may jist go my
-own way? Is that to be your answer, and all I'm to get from you?"
-
-"Don't be angry with me, Martin. I'm maning to do everything for the
-best."
-
-"Maning?--what's the good of maning? Anyways, Anty, let me have an
-answer, for I'll not be making a fool of myself any longer. Somehow,
-all the boys here, every sowl in Dunmore, has it that you and I is to
-be married--and now, afther promising me as you did--"
-
-"Oh, I never promised, Martin."
-
-"It was all one as a promise--and now I'm to be thrown overboard. And
-why?--because Barry Lynch got dhrunk, and frightened you. Av' I'd seen
-the ruffian striking you, I think I'd 've been near putting it beyond
-him to strike another woman iver again."
-
-"Glory be to God that you wasn't near him that night," said Anty,
-crossing herself. "It was bad enough, but av' the two of you should
-ever be set fighting along of me, it would kill me outright."
-
-"But who's talking of fighting, Anty, dear?" and Martin drew a little
-nearer to her--"who's talking of fighting? I never wish to spake
-another word to Barry the longest day that ever comes. Av' he'll get
-out of my way, I'll go bail he'll not find me in his."
-
-"But he wouldn't get out of your way, nor get out of mine, av' you and
-I got married: he'd be in our way, and we'd be in his, and nothing
-could iver come of it but sorrow and misery, and maybe bloodshed."
-
-"Them's all a woman's fears. Av' you an I were once spliced by the
-priest, God bless him, Barry wouldn't trouble Dunmore long afther."
-
-"That's another rason, too. Why should I be dhriving him out of his own
-house? you know he's a right to the house, as well as I."
-
-"Who's talking of dhriving him out? Faith, he'd be welcome to stay
-there long enough for me! He'd go, fast enough, without dhriving,
-though; you can't say the counthry wouldn't have a good riddhance of
-him. But never mind that, Anty: it wasn't about Barry, one way or the
-other, I was thinking, when I first asked you to have me; nor it wasn't
-about myself altogether, as I could let you know; though, in course,
-I'm not saying but that myself's as dear to myself as another, an'
-why not? But to tell the blessed truth, I was thinking av' you too;
-and that you'd be happier and asier, let alone betther an' more
-respecthable, as an honest man's wife, as I'd make you, than being
-mewed up there in dread of your life, never daring to open your mouth
-to a Christian, for fear of your own brother, who niver did, nor niver
-will lift a hand to sarve you, though he wasn't backward to lift it to
-sthrike you, woman and sisther though you were. Come, Anty, darlin," he
-added, after a pause, during which he managed to get his arm behind
-her back, though he couldn't be said to have it fairly round her
-waist--"Get quit of all these quandaries, and say at once, like an
-honest girl, you'll do what I'm asking--and what no living man can
-hindher you from or say against it.--Or else jist fairly say you won't,
-and I'll have done with it."
-
-Anty sat silent, for she didn't like to say she wouldn't; and she
-thought of her brother's threats, and was afraid to say she would.
-Martin advanced a little in his proceedings, however, and now succeeded
-in getting his arm round her waist--and, having done so, he wasn't slow
-in letting her feel its pressure. She made an attempt, with her hand,
-to disengage herself--certainly not a successful, and, probably, not a
-very energetic attempt, when the widow's step was heard on the stairs.
-Martin retreated from his position on the sofa, and Meg from hers
-outside the door, and Mrs Kelly entered the room, with Barry's letter
-in her hand, Meg following, to ascertain the cause of the unfortunate
-interruption.
-
-
-
-
-XVIII.  AN ATTORNEY'S OFFICE IN CONNAUGHT
-
-
-"Anty, here's a letter for ye," began the widow. "Terry's brought it
-down from the house, and says it's from Misther Barry. I b'lieve he was
-in the right not to bring it hisself."
-
-"A letther for me, Mrs Kelly? what can he be writing about? I don't
-just know whether I ought to open it or no;" and Anty trembled, as she
-turned the epistle over and over again in her hands.
-
-"What for would you not open it? The letther can't hurt you, girl,
-whatever the writher might do."
-
-Thus encouraged, Anty broke the seal, and made herself acquainted with
-the contents of the letter which Daly had dictated; but she then found
-that her difficulties had only just commenced. Was she to send an
-answer, and if so, what answer? And if she sent none, what notice ought
-she to take of it? The matter was one evidently too weighty to be
-settled by her own judgment, so she handed the letter to be read, first
-by the widow, and then by Martin, and lastly by the two girls, who, by
-this time, were both in the room.
-
-"Well, the dethermined impudence of that blackguard!" exclaimed Mrs
-Kelly. "Conspiracy!--av' that don't bang Banagher! What does the man
-mean by 'conspiracy,' eh, Martin?"
-
-"Faith, you must ask himself that, mother; and then it's ten to one he
-can't tell you."
-
-"I suppose," said Meg, "he wants to say that we're all schaming to rob
-Anty of her money--only he daren't, for the life of him, spake it out
-straight forrard."
-
-"Or, maybe," suggested Jane, "he wants to bring something agen us like
-this affair of O'Connell's--only he'll find, down here, that he an't
-got Dublin soft goods to deal wid."
-
-Then followed a consultation, as to the proper steps to be taken in the
-matter.
-
-The widow advised that father Geoghegan should be sent for to indite
-such a reply as a Christian ill-used woman should send to so base a
-letter. Meg, who was very hot on the subject, and who had read of some
-such proceeding in a novel, was for putting up in a blank envelope the
-letter itself, and returning it to Barry by the hands of Jack, the
-ostler; at the same time, she declared that "No surrender" should be
-her motto. Jane was of opinion that "Miss Anastasia Lynch's compliments
-to Mr Barry Lynch, and she didn't find herself strong enough to move to
-Dunmore House at present," would answer all purposes, and be, on the
-whole, the safest course. While Martin pronounced that "if Anty would
-be led by him, she'd just pitch the letter behind the fire an' take no
-notice of it, good, bad, or indifferent."
-
-None of these plans pleased Anty, for, as she remarked, "After all,
-Barry was her brother, and blood was thickher than wather." So, after
-much consultation, pen, ink, and paper were procured, and the following
-letter was concocted between them, all the soft bits having been great
-stumbling-blocks, in which, however, Anty's quiet perseverance carried
-the point, in opposition to the wishes of all the Kellys. The words put
-in brackets were those peculiarly objected to.
-
-
-   Dunmore Inn. February, 1844.
-
-   DEAR BARRY,
-
-   I (am very sorry I) can't come back to the house, at any rate just
-   at present. I am not very sthrong in health, and there are kind
-   female friends about me here, which you know there couldn't be up at
-   the house.
-
-
-Anty herself, in the original draft inserted "ladies," but the widow's
-good sense repudiated the term, and insisted on the word "females":
-Jane suggested that "females" did not sound quite respectful alone, and
-Martin thought that Anty might call them "female friends," which was
-consequently done.
-
-
-   --Besides, there are reasons why I'm quieter here, till things are a
-   little more settled. I will forgive (and forget) all that happened
-   up at the house between us--
-
-
-"Why, you can't forget it," said Meg. "Oh, I could, av' he was kind to
-me. I'd forget it all in a week av' he was kind to me," answered Anty--
-
-
-   (and I will do nothing particular without first letting you know).
-
-
-They were all loud against this paragraph, but they could not carry
-their point.
-
-
-   I must tell you, dear Barry, that you are very much mistaken about
-   the people of this house: they are dear, kind friends to me, and,
-   wherever I am, I must love them to the last day of my life--but
-   indeed I am, and hope you believe so,
-
-   Your affectionate sister,
-
-   ANASTASIA LYNCH.
-
-
-When the last paragraph was read over Anty's shoulder, Meg declared she
-was a dear, dear creature: Jane gave her a big kiss, and began crying;
-even the widow put the corner of her apron to her eye, and Martin,
-trying to look manly and unconcerned, declared that he was "quite shure
-they all loved her, and they'd be brutes and bastes av' they didn't!"
-
-The letter, as given above, was finally decided on; written, sealed,
-and despatched by Jack, who was desired to be very particular to
-deliver it at the front door, with Miss Lynch's love, which was
-accordingly done. All the care, however, which had been bestowed on it
-did not make it palatable to Barry, who was alone when he received it,
-and merely muttered, as he read it, "Confound her, low-minded slut!
-friends, indeed! what business has she with friends, except such as
-I please?--if I'd the choosing of her friends, they'd be a strait
-waistcoat, and the madhouse doctor. Good Heaven! that half my
-property--no, but two-thirds of it,--should belong to her!--the stupid,
-stiff-necked robber!"
-
-These last pleasant epithets had reference to his respected progenitor.
-
-On the same evening, after tea, Martin endeavoured to make a little
-further advance with Anty, for he felt that he had been interrupted
-just as she was coming round; but her nerves were again disordered, and
-he soon found that if he pressed her now, he should only get a decided
-negative, which he might find it very difficult to induce her to
-revoke.
-
-Anty's letter was sent off early on the Monday morning--at least, as
-early as Barry now ever managed to do anything--to the attorney at
-Tuam, with strong injunctions that no time was to be lost in taking
-further steps, and with a request that Daly would again come out to
-Dunmore. This, however, he did not at present think it expedient to do.
-So he wrote to Barry, begging him to come into Tuam on the Wednesday,
-to meet Moylan, whom he, Daly, would, if possible, contrive to see on
-the intervening day.
-
-"Obstinate puppy!" said Barry to himself--"if he'd had the least pluck
-in life he'd have broken the will, or at least made the girl out a
-lunatic. But a Connaught lawyer hasn't half the wit or courage now that
-he used to have." However, he wrote a note to Daly, agreeing to his
-proposal, and promising to be in Tuam at two o'clock on the Wednesday.
-
-On the following day Daly saw Moylan, and had a long conversation with
-him. The old man held out for a long time, expressing much indignation
-at being supposed capable of joining in any underhand agreement for
-transferring Miss Lynch's property to his relatives the Kellys, and
-declaring that he would make public to every one in Dunmore and Tuam
-the base manner in which Barry Lynch was treating his sister. Indeed,
-Moylan kept to his story so long and so firmly that the young attorney
-was nearly giving him up; but at last he found his weak side.
-
-"Well, Mr Moylan," he said, "then I can only say your own conduct is
-very disinterested;--and I might even go so far as to say that you
-appear to me foolishly indifferent to your own concerns. Here's the
-agency of the whole property going a-begging: the rents, I believe, are
-about a thousand a-year: you might be recaving them all by jist a word
-of your mouth, and that only telling the blessed truth; and here,
-you're going to put the whole thing into the hands of young Kelly;
-throwing up even the half of the business you have got!"
-
-"Who says I'm afther doing any sich thing, Mr Daly?"
-
-"Why, Martin Kelly says so. Didn't as many as four or five persons hear
-him say, down at Dunmore, that divil a one of the tenants'd iver pay a
-haporth [30] of the November rents to anyone only jist to himself?
-There was father Geoghegan heard him, an Doctor Ned Blake."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 30: haporth--half-penny's worth]
-
-"Maybe he'll find his mistake, Mr Daly."
-
-"Maybe he will, Mr Moylan. Maybe we'll put the whole affair into
-the courts, and have a regular recaver over the property, under the
-Chancellor. People, though they're ever so respectable in their
-way,--and I don't mane to say a word against the Kellys, Mr Moylan, for
-they were always friends of mine--but people can't be allowed to make a
-dead set at a property like this, and have it all their own way, like
-the bull in the china-shop. I know there has been an agreement made,
-and that, in the eye of the law, is a conspiracy. I positively know
-that an agreement has been made to induce Miss Lynch to become Martin
-Kelly's wife; and I know the parties to it, too; and I also know that
-an active young fellow like him wouldn't be paying an agent to get in
-his rents; and I thought, if Mr Lynch was willing to appoint you his
-agent, as well as his sister's, it might be worth your while to lend us
-a hand to settle this affair, without forcing us to stick people into a
-witness-box whom neither I nor Mr Lynch--"
-
-"But what the d----l can I--"
-
-"Jist hear me out, Mr Moylan; you see, if they once knew--the Kellys I
-mane--that you wouldn't lend a hand to this piece of iniquity--"
-
-"Which piece of iniquity, Mr Daly?--for I'm entirely bothered."
-
-"Ah, now, Mr Moylan, none of your fun: this piece of iniquity of
-theirs, I say; for I can call it no less. If they once knew that you
-wouldn't help 'em, they'd be obliged to drop it all; the matter'd never
-have to go into court at all, and you'd jist step into the agency fair
-and aisy; and, into the bargain, you'd do nothing but an honest man's
-work."
-
-The old man broke down, and consented to "go agin the Kellys," as he
-somewhat ambiguously styled his apostasy, provided the agency was
-absolutely promised to him; and he went away with the understanding
-that he was to come on the following day and meet Mr Lynch.
-
-At two o'clock, punctual to the time of his appointment, Moylan was
-there, and was kept waiting an hour in Daly's little parlour. At the
-end of this time Barry came in, having invigorated his courage and
-spirits with a couple of glasses of brandy. Daly had been for some time
-on the look-out for him, for he wished to say a few words to him in
-private, and give him his cue before he took him into the room where
-Moylan was sitting. This could not well be done in the office, for
-it was crowded. It would, I think, astonish a London attorney in
-respectable practice, to see the manner in which his brethren towards
-the west of Ireland get through their work. Daly's office was open to
-all the world; the front door of the house, of which he rented the
-ground floor, was never closed, except at night; nor was the door of
-the office, which opened immediately into the hail.
-
-During the hour that Moylan was waiting in the parlour, Daly was
-sitting, with his hat on, upon a high stool, with his feet resting on a
-small counter which ran across the room, smoking a pipe: a boy, about
-seventeen years of age, Daly's clerk, was filling up numbers of those
-abominable formulas of legal persecution in which attorneys deal, and
-was plying his trade as steadily as though no February blasts were
-blowing in on him through the open door, no sounds of loud and
-boisterous conversation were rattling in his ears. The dashing manager
-of one of the branch banks in the town was sitting close to the little
-stove, and raking out the turf ashes with the office rule, while
-describing a drinking-bout that had taken place on the previous
-Sunday at Blake's of Blakemount; he had a cigar in his mouth, and was
-searching for a piece of well-kindled turf, wherewith to light it. A
-little fat oily shopkeeper in the town, who called himself a woollen
-merchant, was standing with the raised leaf of the counter in his
-hand, roaring with laughter at the manager's story. Two frieze coated
-farmers, outside the counter, were stretching across it, and whispering
-very audibly to Daly some details of litigation which did not appear
-very much to interest him; and a couple of idle blackguards were
-leaning against the wall, ready to obey any behest of the attorney's
-which might enable them to earn a sixpence without labour, and
-listening with all their ears to the different interesting topics of
-conversation which might be broached in the inner office.
-
-"Here's the very man I'm waiting for, at last," said Daly, when, from
-his position on the stool, he saw, through the two open doors, the
-bloated red face of Barry Lynch approaching; and, giving an impulse to
-his body by a shove against the wall behind him, he raised himself on
-to the counter, and, assisting himself by a pull at the collar of the
-frieze coat of the farmer who was in the middle of his story, jumped to
-the ground, and met his client at the front door.
-
-"I beg your pardon, Mr Lynch," said he as soon as he had shaken hands
-with him, "but will you just step up to my room a minute, for I want to
-spake to you;" and he took him up into his bed-room, for he hadn't a
-second sitting-room. "You'll excuse my bringing you up here, for the
-office was full, you see, and Moylan's in the parlour."
-
-"The d----l he is! He came round then, did he, eh, Daly?"
-
-"Oh, I've had a terrible hard game to play with him. I'd no idea he'd
-be so tough a customer, or make such a good fight; but I think I've
-managed him."
-
-"There was a regular plan then, eh, Daly? Just as I said. It was a
-regular planned scheme among them?"
-
-"Wait a moment, and you'll know all about it, at least as much as I
-know myself; and, to tell the truth, that's devilish little. But, if we
-manage to break off the match, and get your sister clane out of the inn
-there, you must give Moylan your agency, at any rate for two or three
-years."
-
-"You haven't promised that?"
-
-"But I have, though. We can do nothing without it: it was only when I
-hinted that, that the old sinner came round."
-
-"But what the deuce is it he's to do for us, after all?"
-
-"He's to allow us to put him forward as a bugbear, to frighten the
-Kellys with: that's all, and, if we can manage that, that's enough. But
-come down now. I only wanted to warn you that, if you think the agency
-is too high a price to pay for the man's services, whatever they may
-be, you must make up your mind to dispense with them."
-
-"Well," answered Barry, as he followed the attorney downstairs, "I
-can't understand what you're about; but I suppose you must be right;"
-and they went into the little parlour where Moylan was sitting.
-
-Moylan and Barry Lynch had only met once, since the former had been
-entrusted to receive Anty's rents, on which occasion Moylan had been
-grossly insulted by her brother. Barry, remembering the meeting, felt
-very awkward at the idea of entering into amicable conversation with
-him, and crept in at the door like a whipped dog. Moylan was too old
-to feel any such compunctions, and consequently made what he intended
-to be taken as a very complaisant bow to his future patron. He was
-an ill-made, ugly, stumpy man, about fifty; with a blotched face,
-straggling sandy hair, and grey shaggy whiskers. He wore a long brown
-great coat, buttoned up to his chin, and this was the only article of
-wearing apparel visible upon him: in his hands he twirled a shining new
-four-and-fourpenny hat.
-
-As soon as their mutual salutations were over, Daly commenced his
-business.
-
-"There is no doubt in the world, Mr Lynch," said he, addressing Barry,
-"that a most unfair attempt has been made by this family to get
-possession of your sister's property--a most shameful attempt, which
-the law will no doubt recognise as a misdemeanour. But I think we shall
-be able to stop their game without any law at all, which will save
-us the annoyance of putting Mr Moylan here, and other respectable
-witnesses, on the table. Mr Moylan says that very soon afther your
-father's will was made known--"
-
-"Now, Mr Daly--shure I niver said a word in life at all about the
-will," said Moylan, interrupting him.
-
-"No, you did not: I mane, very soon afther you got the agency--"
-
-"Divil a word I said about the agency, either."
-
-"Well, well; some time ago--he says that, some time ago, he and Martin
-Kelly were talking over your sister's affairs; I believe the widow was
-there, too."
-
-"Ah, now, Mr Daly--why'd you be putting them words into my mouth?
-sorrow a word of the kind I iver utthered at all."
-
-"What the deuce was it you did say, then?"
-
-"Faix, I don't know that I said much, at all."
-
-"Didn't you say, Mr Moylan, that Martin Kelly was talking to you about
-marrying Anty, some six weeks ago?"
-
-"Maybe I did; he was spaking about it."
-
-"And, if you were in the chair now, before a jury, wouldn't you swear
-that there was a schame among them to get Anty Lynch married to Martin
-Kelly? Come, Mr Moylan, that's all we want to know: if you can't say as
-much as that for us now, just that we may let the Kellys know what sort
-of evidence we could bring against them, if they push us, we must only
-have you and others summoned, and see what you'll have to say then."
-
-"Oh, I'd say the truth, Mr Daly--divil a less--and I'd do as much as
-that now; but I thought Mr Lynch was wanting to say something about the
-property?"
-
-"Not a word then I've to say about it," said Barry, "except that I
-won't let that robber, young Kelly, walk off with it, as long as
-there's law in the land."
-
-"Mr Moylan probably meant about the agency," observed Daly.
-
-Barry looked considerably puzzled, and turned to the attorney for
-assistance. "He manes," continued Daly, "that he and the Kellys are
-good friends, and it wouldn't be any convenience to him just to say
-anything that wouldn't be pleasing to them, unless we could make him
-independent of them:--isn't that about the long and the short of it, Mr
-Moylan?"
-
-"Indepindent of the Kellys, is it, Mr Daly?--Faix, thin, I'm teetotally
-indepindent of them this minute, and mane to continue so, glory be to
-God. Oh, I'm not afeard to tell the thruth agin ere a Kelly in Galway
-or Roscommon--and, av' that was all, I don't see why I need have come
-here this day. When I'm called upon in the rigular way, and has a
-rigular question put me before the Jury, either at Sessions or 'Sizes,
-you'll find I'll not be bothered for an answer, and, av' that's all, I
-b'lieve I may be going,"--and he made a movement towards the door.
-
-"Just as you please, Mr Moylan," said Daly; "and you may be sure that
-you'll not be long without an opportunity of showing how free you are
-with your answers. But, as a friend, I tell you you'll be wrong to lave
-this room till you've had a little more talk with Mr Lynch and myself.
-I believe I mentioned to you Mr Lynch was looking out for someone to
-act as agent over his portion of the Dunmore property?"
-
-Barry looked as black as thunder, but he said nothing.
-
-"You war, Mr Daly. Av' I could accommodate Mr Lynch, I'm shure I'd be
-happy to undhertake the business."
-
-"I believe, Mr Lynch," said Daly, turning to the other, "I may go so
-far as to promise Mr Moylan the agency of the whole property, provided
-Miss Lynch is induced to quit the house of the Kellys? Of course, Mr
-Moylan, you can see that as long as Miss Lynch is in a position of
-unfortunate hostility to her brother, the same agent could not act for
-both; but I think my client is inclined to put his property under your
-management, providing his sister returns to her own home. I believe I'm
-stating your wishes, Mr Lynch."
-
-"Manage it your own way," said Barry, "for I don't see what you're
-doing. If this man can do anything for me, why, I suppose I must pay
-him for it; and if so, your plan's as good a way of paying him as
-another."
-
-The attorney raised his hat with his hand, and scratched his head: he
-was afraid that Moylan would have again gone off in a pet at Lynch's
-brutality, but the old man sat quite quiet. He wouldn't have much
-minded what was said to him, as long as he secured the agency.
-
-"You see, Mr Moylan," continued Daly, "you can have the agency. Five
-per cent. upon the rents is what my client--"
-
-"No, Daly--Five per cent.!--I'm shot if I do!" exclaimed Barry.
-
-"I'm gething twenty-five pounds per annum from Miss Anty, for her half,
-and I wouldn't think of collecting the other for less," declared
-Moylan.
-
-And then a long battle followed on this point, which it required all
-Daly's tact and perseverance to adjust. The old man was pertinacious,
-and many whispers had to be made into Barry's ear before the matter
-could be settled. It was, however, at last agreed that notice was to be
-served on the Kellys, of Barry Lynch's determination to indict them for
-a conspiracy; that Daly was to see the widow, Martin, and, if possible,
-Anty, and tell them all that Moylan was prepared to prove that such a
-conspiracy had been formed;--care was also to be taken that copies of
-the notices so served should be placed in Anty's hands. Moylan, in the
-meantime, agreed to keep out of the way, and undertook, should he be
-unfortunate enough to encounter any of the family of the Kellys, to
-brave the matter out by declaring that "av' he war brought before the
-Judge and Jury he couldn't do more than tell the blessed thruth, and
-why not?" In reward for this, he was to be appointed agent over the
-entire property the moment that Miss Lynch left the inn, at which time
-he was to receive a document, signed by Barry, undertaking to retain
-him in the agency for four years certain, or else to pay him a hundred
-pounds when it was taken from him.
-
-These terms having been mutually agreed to, and Barry having, with many
-oaths, declared that he was a most shamefully ill-used man, the three
-separated. Moylan skulked off to one of his haunts in the town; Barry
-went to the bank, to endeavour to get a bill discounted [30]; and Daly
-returned to his office, to prepare the notices for the unfortunate
-widow and her son.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 30: bill discounted--A common way for young men to
-                   borrow money in nineteenth century Britain was to
-                   sign a promissory note (an "I.O.U."), often called a
-                   "bill," to repay the loan at a specified time. The
-                   lender gave the borrower less than the face value
-                   of the note (that is, he "discounted" the note),
-                   the difference being the interest. Sometimes these
-                   notes were co-signed by a third party, who became
-                   responsible for repaying the loan if the borrower
-                   defaulted; this is one of the major themes in
-                   Trollope's later book _Framley Parsonage_. Trollope
-                   himself was quite familiar with methods of
-                   borrowing, having gotten into debt in his youth.]
-
-
-
-
-XIX.  MR DALY VISITS THE DUNMORE INN
-
-
-Daly let no grass grow under his feet, for early on the following
-morning he hired a car, and proceeded to Dunmore, with the notices in
-his pocket. His feelings were not very comfortable on his journey, for
-he knew that he was going on a bad errand, and he was not naturally
-either a heartless or an unscrupulous man, considering that he was a
-provincial attorney; but he was young in business, and poor, and he
-could not afford to give up a client. He endeavoured to persuade
-himself that it certainly was a wrong thing for Martin Kelly to marry
-such a woman as Anty Lynch, and that Barry had some show of justice on
-his side; but he could not succeed. He knew that Martin was a frank,
-honourable fellow, and that a marriage with him would be the very thing
-most likely to make Anty happy; and he was certain, moreover, that,
-however anxious Martin might naturally be to secure the fortune, he
-would take no illegal or even unfair steps to do so. He felt that his
-client was a ruffian of the deepest die: that his sole object was to
-rob his sister, and that he had no case which it would be possible even
-to bring before a jury. His intention now was, merely to work upon the
-timidity and ignorance of Anty and the other females, and to frighten
-them with a bugbear in the shape of a criminal indictment; and Daly
-felt that the work he was about was very, very dirty work. Two or three
-times on the road, he had all but made up his mind to tear the letters
-he had in his pocket, and to drive at once to Dunmore House, and tell
-Barry Lynch that he would do nothing further in the case. And he would
-have done so, had he not reflected that he had gone so far with Moylan,
-that he could not recede, without leaving it in the old rogue's power
-to make the whole matter public.
-
-As he drove down the street of Dunmore, he endeavoured to quiet his
-conscience, by reflecting that he might still do much to guard Anty
-from the ill effects of her brother's rapacity; and that at any rate he
-would not see her property taken from her, though she might be
-frightened out of her matrimonial speculation.
-
-He wanted to see the widow, Martin, and Anty, and if possible to see
-them, at first, separately; and fortune so far favoured him that, as he
-got off the car, he saw our hero standing at the inn door.
-
-"Ah! Mr Daly," said he, coming up to the car and shaking hands with the
-attorney, for Daly put out his hand to him--"how are you again?--I
-suppose you're going up to the house? They say you're Barry's right
-hand man now. Were you coming into the inn?"
-
-"Why, I will step in just this minute; but I've a word I want to spake
-to you first."
-
-"To me!" said Martin.
-
-"Yes, to you, Martin Kelly: isn't that quare?" and then he gave
-directions to the driver to put up the horse, and bring the car round
-again in an hour's time. "D' you remember my telling you, the day we
-came into Dunmore on the car together, that I was going up to the
-house?"
-
-"Faith I do, well; it's not so long since."
-
-"And do you mind my telling you, I didn't know from Adam what it was
-for, that Barry Lynch was sending for me?"
-
-"And I remember that, too."
-
-"And that I tould you, that when I did know I shouldn't tell you?"
-
-"Begad you did, Mr Daly; thim very words."
-
-"Why then, Martin, I tould you what wasn't thrue, for I'm come all the
-way from Tuam, this minute, to tell you all about it."
-
-Martin turned very red, for he rightly conceived that when an attorney
-came all the way from Tuam to talk to him, the tidings were not likely
-to be agreeable.
-
-"And is it about Barry Lynch's business?"
-
-"It is."
-
-"Then it's schames there's divil a doubt of that."
-
-"It is schames, as you say, Martin," said Daly, slapping him on the
-shoulder--"fine schames--no less than a wife with four hundred a-year!
-Wouldn't that be a fine schame?"
-
-"'Deed it would, Mr Daly, av' the wife and the fortune were honestly
-come by."
-
-"And isn't it a hundred pities that I must come and upset such a pretty
-schame as that? But, for all that, it's thrue. I'm sorry for you,
-Martin, but you must give up Anty Lynch."
-
-"Give her up, is it? Faith I haven't got her to give up, worse luck."
-
-"Nor never will, Martin; and that's worse luck again."
-
-"Well, Mr Daly, av' that's all you've come to say, you might have saved
-yourself car-hire. Miss Lynch is nothing to me, mind; how should she
-be? But av' she war, neither Barry Lynch--who's as big a rogue as there
-is from this to hisself and back again--nor you, who, I take it, ain't
-rogue enough to do Barry's work, wouldn't put me off it."
-
-"Well, Martin; thank 'ee for the compliment. But now, you know what
-I've come about, and there's no joke in it. Of course I don't want you
-to tell me anything of your plans; but, as Mr Lynch's lawyer, I must
-tell you so much as this of his:--that, if his sister doesn't lave
-the inn, and honestly assure him that she'll give up her intention of
-marrying you, he's determined to take proceedings." He then fumbled in
-his pocket, and, bringing out the two notices, handed to Martin the one
-addressed to him. "Read that, and it'll give you an idea what we're
-afther. And when I tell you that Moylan owns, and will swear to it too,
-that he was present when all the plans were made, you'll see that we're
-not going to sea without wind in our sails."
-
-"Well--I'm shot av' I know the laist in the world what all this is
-about!" said Martin, as he stood in the street, reading over the
-legally-worded letter--"'conspiracy!'--well that'll do, Mr Daly; go
-on--'enticing away from her home!'--that's good, when the blackguard
-nearly knocked the life out of her, and mother brought her
-down here, from downright charity, and to prevent murdher--'wake
-intellects!'--well, Mr Daly, I didn't expect this kind of thing from
-you: begorra, I thought you were above this!--wake intellects! faith,
-they're a dale too sthrong, and too good--and too wide awake too, for
-Barry to get the betther of her that way. Not that I'm in the laist in
-life surprised at anything he'd do; but I thought that you, Mr Daly,
-wouldn't put your hands to such work as that."
-
-Daly felt the rebuke, and felt it strongly, too; but now that he was
-embarked in the business, he must put the best face he could upon it.
-Still it was a moment or two before he could answer the young farmer.
-
-"Why," he said--"why did you put your hands to such a dirty job as
-this, Martin?--you were doing well, and not in want--and how could you
-let anyone persuade you to go and sell yourself to, an ugly ould maid,
-for a few hundred pounds? Don't you know, that if you were married to
-her this minute, you'd have a lawsuit that'd go near to ruin you before
-you could get possession of the property?"
-
-"Av' I'm in want of legal advice, Mr Daly, which thank God, I'm not,
-nor likely to be--but av' I war, it's not from Barry Lynch's attorney
-I'd be looking for it."
-
-"I'd be sorry to see you in want of it, Martin; but if you mane to keep
-out of the worst kind of law, you'd better have done with Anty Lynch.
-I'd a dale sooner be drawing up a marriage settlement between you and
-some pretty girl with five or six hundred pound fortune, than I'd be
-exposing to the counthry such a mane trick as this you're now afther,
-of seducing a poor half-witted ould maid, like Anty Lynch, into a
-disgraceful marriage."
-
-"Look here, Mr Daly," said the other; "you've hired yourself out to
-Barry Lynch, and you must do his work, I suppose, whether it's dirthy
-or clane; and you know yourself, as well as I can tell you, which it's
-likely to be--"
-
-"That's my concern; lave that to me; you've quite enough to do to mind
-yourself."
-
-"But av' he's nothing betther for you to do, than to send you here
-bally-ragging and calling folks out of their name, he must have a sight
-more money to spare than I give him credit for; and you must be a dale
-worse off than your neighbours thought you, to do it for him."
-
-"That'll do," said Mr Daly, knocking at the door of the inn; "only,
-remember, Mr Kelly, you've now received notice of the steps which my
-client feels himself called upon to take."
-
-Martin turned to go away, but then, reflecting that it would be as well
-not to leave the women by themselves in the power of the enemy, he also
-waited at the door till it was opened by Katty.
-
-"Is Miss Lynch within?" asked Daly.
-
-"Go round to the shop, Katty," said Martin, "and tell mother to come to
-the door. There's a gentleman wanting her."
-
-"It was Miss Lynch I asked for," said Daly, still looking to the girl
-for an answer.
-
-"Do as I bid you, you born ideot, and don't stand gaping there,"
-shouted Martin to the girl, who immediately ran off towards the shop.
-
-"I might as well warn you, Mr Kelly, that, if Miss Lynch is denied
-to me, the fact of her being so denied will be a very sthrong proof
-against you and your family. In fact, it amounts to an illegal
-detention of her person, in the eye of the law." Daly said this in a
-very low voice, almost a whisper.
-
-"Faith, the law must have quare eyes, av' it makes anything wrong with
-a young lady being asked the question whether or no she wishes to see
-an attorney, at eleven in the morning."
-
-"An attorney!" whispered Meg to Jane and Anty at the top of the stairs.
-
-"Heaven and 'arth," said poor Anty, shaking and shivering--"what's
-going to be the matter now?"
-
-"It's young Daly," said Jane, stretching forward and peeping clown the
-stairs: "I can see the curl of his whiskers."
-
-By this time the news had reached Mrs Kelly, in the shop, "that a
-sthrange gentleman war axing for Miss Anty, but that she warn't to be
-shown to him on no account;" so the widow dropped her tobacco knife,
-flung off her dirty apron, and, having summoned Jane and Meg to attend
-to the mercantile affairs of the establishment--turned into the inn,
-and met Mr Daly and her son still standing at the bottom of the stairs.
-
-The widow curtsied ceremoniously, and wished Mr. Daly good morning, and
-he was equally civil in his salutation.
-
-"Mr Daly's going to have us all before the assizes, mother. We'll never
-get off without the treadmill, any way: it's well av' the whole kit of
-us don't have to go over the wather at the queen's expense."
-
-"The Lord be good to us;" said the widow, crossing herself. What's the
-matter, Mr Daly?"
-
-"Your son's joking, ma'am. I was only asking to see Miss Lynch, on
-business."
-
-"Step upstairs, mother, into the big parlour, and don't let's be
-standing talking here where all the world can hear us."
-
-"And wilcome, for me, I'm shure"--said the widow, stroking down
-the front of her dress with the palms of her hands, as she walked
-upstairs--"and wilcome too for me I'm very shure. I've said or done
-nothing as I wish to consail, Mr Daly. Will you be plazed to take a
-chair?" and the widow sat down herself on a chair in the middle of the
-room, with her hands folded over each other in her lap, as if she was
-preparing to answer questions from that time to a very late hour in the
-evening.
-
-"And now, Mr Daly--av' you've anything to say to a poor widdy like me,
-I'm ready."
-
-"My chief object in calling, Mrs Kelly, was to see Miss Lynch. Would
-you oblige me by letting Miss Lynch know that I'm waiting to see her on
-business."
-
-"Maybe it's a message from her brother, Mr Daly?" said Mrs Kelly.
-
-"You had better go in to Miss Lynch, mother," said Martin, "and ask her
-av' it's pleasing to her to see Mr Daly. She can see him, in course,
-av' she likes."
-
-"I don't see what good 'll come of her seeing him," rejoined the widow.
-"With great respect to you, Mr Daly, and not maning to say a word agin
-you, I don't see how Anty Lynch 'll be the betther for seeing ere an
-attorney in the counthry."
-
-"I don't want to frighten you, ma'am," said Daly; "but I can assure
-you, you will put yourself in a very awkward position if you refuse to
-allow me to see Miss Lynch."
-
-"Ah, mother!" said Martin, "don't have a word to say in the matther
-at all, one way or the other. Just tell Anty Mr Daly wishes to see
-her--let her come or not, just as she chooses. What's she afeard of,
-that she shouldn't hear what anyone has to say to her?"
-
-The widow seemed to be in great doubt and perplexity, and continued
-whispering with Martin for some time, during which Daly remained
-standing with his back to the fire. At length Martin said, "Av' you've
-got another of them notices to give my mother, Mr Daly, why don't you
-do it?"
-
-"Why, to tell you the thruth," answered the attorney, "I don't want to
-throuble your mother unless it's absolutely necessary; and although I
-have the notice ready in my pocket, if I could see Miss Lynch, I might
-be spared the disagreeable job of serving it on her."
-
-"The Holy Virgin save us!" said the widow; "an' what notice is it at
-all, you're going to serve on a poor lone woman like me?"
-
-"Be said by me, mother, and fetch Anty in here. Mr Daly won't expect, I
-suppose, but what you should stay and hear what it is he has to say?"
-
-"Both you and your mother are welcome to hear all that I have to say to
-the lady," said Daly; for he felt that it would be impossible for him
-to see Anty alone.
-
-The widow unwillingly got up to fetch her guest. When she got to the
-door, she turned round, and said, "And is there a notice, as you calls
-it, to be sarved on Miss Lynch?"
-
-"Not a line, Mrs Kelly; not a line, on my honour. I only want her to
-hear a few words that I'm commissioned by her brother to say to her."
-
-"And you're not going to give her any paper--nor nothing of that sort
-at all?"
-
-"Not a word, Mrs Kelly."
-
-"Ah, mother," said Martin, "Mr Daly couldn't hurt her, av' he war
-wishing, and he's not. Go and bring her in."
-
-The widow went out, and in a few minutes returned, bringing Anty with
-her, trembling from head to foot. The poor young woman had not exactly
-heard what had passed between the attorney and the mother and her son,
-but she knew very well that his visit had reference to her, and that it
-was in some way connected with her brother. She had, therefore, been in
-a great state of alarm since Meg and Jane had left her alone. When Mrs
-Kelly came into the little room where she was sitting, and told her
-that Mr Daly had come to Dunmore on purpose to see her, her first
-impulse was to declare that she wouldn't go to him; and had she done
-so, the widow would not have pressed her. But she hesitated, for she
-didn't like to refuse to do anything which her friend asked her; and
-when Mrs Kelly said, "Martin says as how the man can't hurt you, Anty,
-so you'd betther jist hear what it is he has to say," she felt that she
-had no loophole of escape, and got up to comply.
-
-"But mind, Anty," whispered the cautious widow, as her hand was on the
-parlour door, "becase this Daly is wanting to speak to you, that's no
-rason you should be wanting to spake to him; so, if you'll be said by
-me, you'll jist hould your tongue, and let him say on."
-
-Fully determined to comply with this prudent advice, Anty followed the
-old woman, and, curtseying at Daly without looking at him, sat herself
-down in the middle of the old sofa, with her hands crossed before her.
-
-"Anty," said Martin, making great haste to speak, before Daly could
-commence, and then checking himself as he remembered that he shouldn't
-have ventured on the familiarity of calling her by her Christian name
-in Daly's presence--"Miss Lynch, I mane--as Mr Daly here has come all
-the way from Tuam on purpose to spake to you, it wouldn't perhaps be
-manners in you to let him go back without hearing him. But remember,
-whatever your brother says, or whatever Mr Daly says for him--and it's
-all--one you're still your own mistress, free to act and to spake, to
-come and to go; and that neither the one nor the other can hurt you, or
-mother, or me, nor anybody belonging to us."
-
-"God knows," said Daly, "I want to have no hand in hurting any of you;
-but, to tell the truth, Martin, it would be well for Miss Lynch to have
-a better adviser than you or she may get herself, and, what she'll
-think more of, she'll get her friends--maning you, Mrs Kelly, and your
-family--into a heap of throubles."
-
-"Oh, God forbid, thin!" exclaimed Anty.
-
-"Niver mind us, Mr Daly," said the widow. "The Kellys was always able
-to hould their own; thanks be to glory."
-
-"Well, I've said my say, Mr Daly," said Martin, "and now do you say
-your'n: as for throubles, we've all enough of thim; but your own must
-have been bad, when you undhertook this sort of job for Barry Lynch."
-
-"Mind yourself, Martin, as I told you before, and you'll about have
-enough to do.--Miss Lynch, I've been instructed by your brother to draw
-up an indictment against Mrs Kelly and Mr Kelly, charging them with
-conspiracy to get possession of your fortune."
-
-"A what!" shouted the widow, jumping up from her chair--"to rob Anty
-Lynch of her fortune! I'd have you to know, Mr Daly, I wouldn't demane
-myself to rob the best gentleman in Connaught, let alone a poor
-unprotected young woman, whom I've--"
-
-"Whist, mother--go asy," said Martin. "I tould you that that was what
-war in the paper he gave me; he'll give you another, telling you all
-about it just this minute."
-
-"Well, the born ruffian! Does he dare to accuse me of wishing to rob
-his sister! Now, Mr Daly, av' the blessed thruth is in you this minute,
-don't your own heart know who it is, is most likely to rob Anty
-Lynch?--Isn't it Barry Lynch himself is thrying to rob his own sisther
-this minute? ay, and he'd murdher her too, only the heart within him
-isn't sthrong enough."
-
-"Ah, mother! don't be saying such things," said Martin; "what business
-is that of our'n? Let Barry send what messages he plazes; I tell you
-it's all moonshine; he can't hurt the hair of your head, nor Anty's
-neither. Go asy, and let Mr Daly say what he has to say, and have done
-with it."
-
-"It's asy to say 'go asy'--but who's to sit still and be tould sich
-things as that? Rob Anty Lynch indeed!"
-
-"If you'll let me finish what I have to say, Mrs Kelly, I think you'll
-find it betther for the whole of us," said Daly.
-
-"Go on thin, and be quick with it; but don't talk to dacent people
-about robbers any more. Robbers indeed! they're not far to fitch; and
-black robbers too, glory be to God."
-
-"Your brother, Miss Lynch, is determined to bring this matter before a
-jury at the assizes, for the sake of protecting you and your property."
-
-"Protecthing Anty Lynch!--is it Barry? The Holy Virgin defind her from
-sich prothection! a broken head the first moment the dhrink makes his
-heart sthrong enough to sthrike her!"
-
-"Ah, mother! you're a fool," exclaimed Martin: "why can't you let the
-man go on?--ain't he paid for saying it? Well, Mr Daly, begorra I pity
-you, to have such things on your tongue; but go on, go on, and finish
-it."
-
-"Your brother conceives this to be his duty," continued Daly, rather
-bothered by the manner in which he had to make his communication, "and
-it is a duty which he is determined to go through with."
-
-"Duty!" said the widow, with a twist of her nose, and giving almost a
-whistle through her lips, in a manner which very plainly declared the
-contempt she felt for Barry's ideas of duty.
-
-"With this object," continued Daly, "I have already handed to Martin
-Kelly a notice of what your brother means to do; and I have another
-notice prepared in my pocket for his mother. The next step will be to
-swear the informations before a magistrate, and get the committals made
-out; Mrs Kelly and her son will then have to give bail for their
-appearance at the assizes."
-
-"And so we can," said the widow; "betther bail than e'er a Lynch or
-Daly--not but what the Dalys is respictable--betther bail, any way,
-than e'er a Lynch in Galway could show, either for sessions or 'sizes,
-by night or by day, winter or summer."
-
-"Ah, mother! you don't understhand: he's maning that we're to be tried
-in the dock, for staling Anty's money."
-
-"Faix, but that'd be a good joke! Isn't Anty to the fore herself to say
-who's robbed her? Take an ould woman's advice, Mr Daly, and go back to
-Tuam: it ain't so asy to put salt on the tail of a Dunmore bird."
-
-"And so I will, Mrs Kelly," said Daly; "but you must let me finish what
-I have to tell Miss Lynch.--This will be a proceeding most disagreeable
-to your brother's feelings."
-
-"Failings, indeed!" muttered the widow; "faix, I b'lieve his chief
-failing at present's for sthrong dhrink!"
-
-"--But he must go on with it, unless you at once lave the inn, return
-to your own home, and give him your promise that you will never marry
-Martin Kelly."
-
-Anty blushed deep crimson over her whole face at the mention of her
-contemplated marriage; and, to tell the truth, so did Martin.
-
-"Here is the notice," said Daly, taking the paper out of his pocket;
-"and the matter now rests with yourself. If you'll only tell me that
-you'll be guided by your brother on this subject, I'll burn the notice
-at once; and I'll undertake to say that, as far as your property is
-concerned, your brother will not in the least interfere with you in the
-management of it."
-
-"And good rason why, Mr Daly," said the widow--"jist becase he can't."
-
-"Well, Miss Lynch, am I to tell your brother that you are willing to
-oblige him in this matter?"
-
-Whatever effect Daly's threats may have had on the widow and her son,
-they told strongly upon Anty; for she sat now the picture of misery and
-indecision. At last she said: "Oh, Lord defend me! what am I to do, Mrs
-Kelly?"
-
-"Do?" said Martin; "why, what should you do--but just wish Mr Daly good
-morning, and stay where you are, snug and comfortable?"
-
-"Av' you war to lave this, Anty, and go up to Dunmore House afther all
-that's been said and done, I'd say Barry was right, and that
-Ballinasloe Asylum was the fitting place for you," said the widow.
-
-"The blessed virgin guide and prothect me," said Anty, "for I want her
-guidance this minute. Oh, that the walls of a convent was round me this
-minute--I wouldn't know what throuble was!"
-
-"And you needn't know anything about throuble," said Martin, who didn't
-quite like his mistress's allusion to a convent. "You don't suppose
-there's a word of thruth in all this long story of Mr Daly's?--He
-knows,--and I'll say it out to his face--he knows Barry don't dare
-carry on with sich a schame. He knows he's only come here to frighten
-you out of this, that Barry may have his will on you again."
-
-"And God forgive him his errand here this day," said the widow, "for it
-was a very bad one."
-
-"If you will allow me to offer you my advice, Miss Lynch," said Daly,
-"you will put yourself, at any rate for a time, under your brother's
-protection."
-
-"She won't do no sich thing," said the widow. "What! to be locked into
-the parlour agin--and be nigh murdhered? holy father!"
-
-"Oh, no," said Anty, at last, shuddering in horror at the remembrance
-of the last night she passed in Dunmore House, "I cannot go back to
-live with him, but I'll do anything else, av' he'll only lave me, and
-my kind, kind friends, in pace and quiet."
-
-"Indeed, and you won't, Anty," said the widow; "you'll do nothing for
-him. Your frinds--that's av' you mane the Kellys--is very able to take
-care of themselves."
-
-"If your brother, Miss Lynch, will lave Dunmore House altogether, and
-let you have it to yourself, will you go and live there, and give him
-the promise not to marry Martin Kelly?"
-
-"Indeed an' she won't," said the widow. "She'll give no promise of the
-kind. Promise, indeed! what for should she promise Barry Lynch whom she
-will marry, or whom she won't?"
-
-"Raily, Mrs Kelly, I think you might let Miss Lynch answer for
-herself."
-
-"I wouldn't, for all the world thin, go to live at Dunmore House," said
-Anty.
-
-"And you are determined to stay in this inn here?"
-
-"In course she is--that's till she's a snug house of her own," said the
-widow.
-
-"Ah, mother!" said Martin, "what for will you be talking?"
-
-"And you're determined," repeated Daly, "to stay here?"
-
-"I am," faltered Anty.
-
-"Then I have nothing further to do than to hand you this, Mrs
-Kelly"--and he offered the notice to the widow, but she refused to
-touch it, and he consequently put it down on the table. "But it is my
-duty to tell you, Miss Lynch, that the gentry of this counthry, before
-whom you will have to appear, will express very great indignation at
-your conduct in persevering in placing poor people like the Kellys in
-so dreadful a predicament, by your wilful and disgraceful obstinacy."
-
-Poor Anty burst into tears. She had been for some time past trying to
-restrain herself, but Daly's last speech, and the horrible idea of the
-gentry of the country browbeating and frowning at her, completely upset
-her, and she hid her face on the arm of the sofa, and sobbed aloud.
-
-"Poor people like the Kellys!" shouted the widow, now for the first
-time really angry with Daly--"not so poor, Mr Daly, as to do dirthy
-work for anyone. I wish I could say as much this day for your mother's
-son! Poor people, indeed! I suppose, now, you wouldn't call Barry Lynch
-one of your poor people; but in my mind he's the poorest crature living
-this day in county Galway. Av' you've done now, Mr Daly, you've my lave
-to be walking; and the less you let the poor Kellys see of you, from
-this time out, the betther."
-
-When Anty's sobs commenced, Martin had gone over to her to comfort her,
-"Ah, Anty, dear," he whispered to her, "shure you'd not be minding what
-such a fellow as he'd be saying to you?--shure he's jist paid for all
-this--he's only sent here by Barry to thry and frighten you,"--but
-it was of no avail: Daly had succeeded at any rate in making her
-miserable, and it was past the power of Martin's eloquence to undo what
-the attorney had done.
-
-"Well, Mr Daly," he said, turning round sharply, "I suppose you have
-done here now, and the sooner you turn your back on this place the
-betther--An' you may take this along with you. Av' you think you've
-frightened my mother or me, you're very much mistaken."
-
-"Yes," said Daly, "I have done now, and I am sorry my business has been
-so unpleasant. Your mother, Martin, had betther not disregard that
-notice. Good morning, Miss Lynch: good morning, Mrs Kelly; good
-morning, Martin;" and Daly took up his hat, and left the room.
-
-"Good morning to you, Mr Daly," said Martin: "as I've said before, I'm
-sorry to see you've taken to this line of business."
-
-As soon as the attorney was gone, both Martin and his mother attempted
-to console and re-assure poor Anty, but they did not find the task an
-easy one. "Oh, Mrs Kelly," she said, as soon as she was able to say
-anything, "I'm sorry I iver come here, I am: I'm sorry I iver set my
-foot in the house!"
-
-"Don't say so, Anty, dear," said the widow. "What'd you be sorry
-for--an't it the best place for you?"
-
-"Oh! but to think that I'd bring all these throubles on you! Betther
-be up there, and bear it all, than bring you and yours into law, and
-sorrow, and expense. Only I couldn't find the words in my throat to
-say it, I'd 've tould the man that I'd 've gone back at once. I wish
-I had--indeed, Mrs Kelly, I wish I had."
-
-"Why, Anty," said Martin, "you an't fool enough to believe what Daly's
-been saying? Shure all he's afther is to frighthen you out of this.
-Never fear: Barry can't hurt us a halfporth, though no doubt he's
-willing enough, av' he had the way."
-
-"I wish I was in a convent, this moment," said Anty. "Oh! I wish I'd
-done as father asked me long since. Av' the walls of a convent was
-around me, I'd niver know what throubles was."
-
-"No more you shan't now," said Martin: "Who's to hurt you? Come, Anty,
-look up; there's nothing in all this to vex you."
-
-But neither son nor mother were able to soothe the poor young woman.
-The very presence of an attorney was awful to her; and all the jargon
-which Daly had used, of juries, judges, trials, and notices, had
-sounded terribly in her ears. The very names of such things were to
-her terrible realities, and she couldn't bring herself to believe that
-her brother would threaten to make use of such horrible engines of
-persecution, without having the power to bring them into action. Then,
-visions of the lunatic asylum, into which he had declared that he would
-throw her, flitted across her, and made her whole body shiver and
-shake; and again she remembered the horrid glare of his eye, the hot
-breath, and the frightful form of his visage, on the night when he
-almost told her that he would murder her.
-
-Poor Anty had at no time high or enduring spirits, but such as she
-had were now completely quelled. A dreadful feeling of coming evil--a
-foreboding of misery, such as will sometimes overwhelm stronger minds
-than Anty's, seemed to stifle her; and she continued sobbing till she
-fell into hysterics, when Meg and Jane were summoned to her assistance.
-They sat with her for above an hour, doing all that kindness and
-affection could suggest; but after a time Anty told them that she had a
-cold, sick feeling within herself, that she felt weak and ill, and that
-she'd sooner go to bed. To bed they accordingly took her; and Sally
-brought her tea, and Katty lighted a fire in her room, and Jane read to
-her an edifying article from the lives of the Saints, and Meg argued
-with her as to the folly of being frightened. But it was all of no
-avail; before night, Anty was really ill.
-
-The next morning, the widow was obliged to own to herself that such was
-the case. In the afternoon, Doctor Colligan was called in; and it was
-many, many weeks before Anty recovered from the effects of the
-attorney's visit.
-
-
-
-XX.  VERY LIBERAL
-
-
-When the widow left the parlour, after having placed her guest in
-the charge of her daughters, she summoned her son to follow her down
-stairs, and was very careful not to leave behind her the notice which
-Daly had placed on the table. As soon as she found herself behind
-the shutter of her little desk, which stood in the shop-window, she
-commenced very eagerly spelling it over. The purport of the notice was,
-to inform her that Barry Lynch intended immediately to apply to the
-magistrates to commit her and her son, for conspiring together to
-inveigle Anty into a marriage; and that the fact of their having done
-so would be proved by Mr Moylan, who was prepared to swear that he
-had been present when the plan had been arranged between them. The
-reader is aware that whatever show of truth there might be for this
-accusation, as far as Martin and Moylan himself were concerned, the
-widow at any rate was innocent; and he can conceive the good lady's
-indignation at the idea of her own connection, Moylan, having been
-seduced over to the enemy. Though she had put on a bold front against
-Daly, and though she did not quite believe that Barry was in earnest in
-taking proceedings against her, still her heart failed her as she read
-the legal technicalities of the papers she held in her hand, and turned
-to her son for counsel in considerable tribulation.
-
-"But there must be something in it, I tell you," said she. "Though
-Barry Lynch, and that limb o' the divil, young Daly, 'd stick at nothin
-in the way of lies and desait, they'd niver go to say all this about
-Moylan, unless he'd agree to do their bidding."
-
-"That's like enough, mother: I dare say Moylan has been talked
-over--bought over rather; for he's not one of them as'd do mischief for
-nothin."
-
-"And does the ould robber mane to say that I--. As I live, I niver as
-much as mentioned Anty's name to Moylan, except jist about the agency!"
-
-"I'm shure you didn't, mother."
-
-"And what is it then he has to say agin us?"
-
-"Jist lies; that's av' he were called on to say anything; but he niver
-will be. This is all one of Barry's schames to frighten you, and get
-Anty turned out of the inn."
-
-"Thin Master Barry doesn't know the widdy Kelly, I can tell him that;
-for when I puts my hand to a thing, I mane to pull through wid it. But
-tell me--all this'll be costing money, won't, it? Attorneys don't bring
-thim sort of things about for nothing," and she gave a most
-contemptuous twist to the notice.
-
-"Oh, Barry must pay for that."
-
-"I doubt that, Martin: he's not fond of paying, the mane, dirthy
-blackguard. I tell you what, you shouldn't iver have let Daly inside
-the house: he'll make us pay for the writing o' thim as shure as my
-name's Mary Kelly: av' he hadn't got into the house, he couldn't've
-done a halfporth."
-
-"I tell you, mother, it wouldn't have done not to let him see Anty.
-They'd have said we'd got her shut up here, and wouldn't let any one
-come nigh her."
-
-"Well, Martin, you'll see we'll have to pay for it. This comes of
-meddling with other folks! I wonder how I was iver fool enough to have
-fitched her down here!--Good couldn't come of daling with such people
-as Barry Lynch."
-
-"But you wouldn't have left her up there to be murdhered?"
-
-"She's nothin' to me, and I don't know as she's iver like to be."
-
-"May-be not."
-
-"But, tell me, Martin--was there anything said between you and Moylan
-about Anty before she come down here?"
-
-"How, anything said, mother?"
-
-"Why, was there any schaming betwixt you?"
-
-"Schaming?--when I want to schame, I'll not go shares with sich a
-fellow as Moylan."
-
-"Ah, but was there anything passed about Anty and you getting married?
-Come now, Martin; I'm in all this throuble along of you, and you
-shouldn't lave me in the dark. Was you talking to Moylan about Anty and
-her fortune?"
-
-"Why, thin, I'll jist tell you the whole thruth, as I tould it all
-before to Mister Frank--that is, Lord Ballindine, up in Dublin; and as
-I wouldn't mind telling it this minute to Barry, or Daly, or any one
-else in the three counties. When Moylan got the agency, he come out to
-me at Toneroe; and afther talking a bit about Anty and her fortune, he
-let on as how it would be a bright spec for me to marry her, and I
-won't deny that it was he as first put it into my head. Well, thin, he
-had schames of his own about keeping the agency, and getting a nice
-thing out of the property himself, for putting Anty in my way; but I
-tould him downright I didn't know anything about that; and that 'av
-iver I did anything in the matter it would be all fair and above board;
-and that was all the conspiracy I and Moylan had."
-
-"And enough too, Martin," said the widow. "You'll find it's quite
-enough to get us into throuble. And why wouldn't you tell me what was
-going on between you?"
-
-"There was nothing going on between us."
-
-"I say there was;--and to go and invaigle me into your schames without
-knowing a word about it!--It was a murdhering shame of you--and av' I
-do have to pay for it, I'll never forgive you."
-
-"That's right, mother; quarrel with me about it, do. It was I made you
-bring Anty down here, wasn't it? when I was up in Dublin all the time."
-
-"But to go and put yourself in the power of sich a fellow as Moylan! I
-didn't think you were so soft."
-
-"Ah, bother, mother! Who's put themselves in the power of Moylan?"
-
-"I'll moyle him, and spoil him too, the false blackguard, to turn
-agin the family--them as has made him! I wondher what he's to get
-for swearing agin us?"--And then, after a pause, she added in a most
-pathetic voice "oh, Martin, to think of being dragged away to Galway,
-before the whole counthry, to be made a conspirather of! I, that always
-paid my way, before and behind, though only a poor widdy! Who's to mind
-the shop, I wondher?--I'm shure Meg's not able; and there'll be Mary'll
-be jist nigh her time, and won't be able to come! Martin, you've been
-and ruined me with your plots and your marriages! What did you want
-with a wife, I wondher, and you so well off!"--and Mrs Kelly began
-wiping her eyes, for she was affected to tears at the prospect of her
-coming misery.
-
-"Av' you take it so to heart, mother, you'd betther give Anty a hint to
-be out of this. You heard Daly tell her, that was all Barry wanted."
-
-Martin knew his mother tolerably well, or he would not have made this
-proposition. He understood what the real extent of her sorrow was, and
-how much of her lamentation he was to attribute to her laudable wish to
-appear a martyr to the wishes and pleasures of her children.
-
-"Turn her out!" replied she, "no, niver; and I didn't think I'd 've
-heard you asking me to."
-
-"I didn't ask you, mother,--only anything'd be betther than downright
-ruin."
-
-"I wouldn't demane myself to Barry so much as to wish her out of this
-now she's here. But it was along of you she came here, and av' I've to
-pay for all this lawyer work, you oughtn't to see me at a loss. I'm
-shure I don't know where your sisthers is to look for a pound or two
-when I'm gone, av' things goes on this way," and again the widow
-whimpered.
-
-"Don't let that throuble you, mother: av' there's anything to pay, I
-won't let it come upon you, any way. But I tell you there'll be nothing
-more about it."
-
-Mrs Kelly was somewhat quieted by her son's guarantee, and, muttering
-that she couldn't afford to be wasting her mornings in that way,
-diligently commenced weighing out innumerable three-halfporths of brown
-sugar, and Martin went about his own business.
-
-Daly left the inn, after his interview with Anty and the Kellys, in
-anything but a pleasant frame of mind. In the first place, he knew that
-he had been signally unsuccessful, and that his want of success had
-been mainly attributable to his having failed to see Anty alone; and,
-in the next place, he felt more than ever disgusted with his client.
-He began to reflect, for the first time, that he might, and probably
-would, irretrievably injure his character by undertaking, as Martin
-truly called it, such a very low line of business: that, if the matter
-were persevered in, every one in Connaught would be sure to hear of
-Anty's persecution; and that his own name would be so mixed up with
-Lynch's in the transaction as to leave him no means of escaping the
-ignominy which was so justly due to his employer. Beyond these selfish
-motives of wishing to withdraw from the business, he really pitied
-Anty, and felt a great repugnance at being the means of adding to her
-troubles; and he was aware of the scandalous shame of subjecting her
-again to the ill-treatment of such a wretch as her brother, by
-threatening proceedings which he knew could never be taken.
-
-As he got on the car to return to Tuam, he determined that whatever
-plan he might settle on adopting, he would have nothing further to do
-with prosecuting or persecuting either Anty or the Kellys. "I'll give
-him the best advice I can about it," said Daly to himself; "and if
-he don't like it he may do the other thing. I wouldn't carry on with
-this game for all he's worth, and that I believe is not much." He had
-intended to go direct to Dunmore House from the Kellys, and to have
-seen Barry, but he would have had to stop for dinner if he had done
-so; and though, generally speaking, not very squeamish in his society,
-he did not wish to enjoy another after-dinner _tete-a-tete_ with
-him--"It's better to get him over to Tuam," thought he, "and try and
-make him see rason when he's sober: nothing's too hot or too bad for
-him, when he's mad dhrunk afther dinner."
-
-Accordingly, Lynch was again summoned to Tuam, and held a second
-council in the attorney's little parlour. Daly commenced by telling him
-that his sister had seen him, and had positively refused to leave the
-inn, and that the widow and her son had both listened to the threats
-of a prosecution unmoved and undismayed. Barry indulged in his
-usual volubility of expletives; expressed his fixed intention of
-exterminating the Kellys; declared, with many asseverations, his
-conviction that his sister was a lunatic; swore, by everything under,
-in, and above the earth, that he would have her shut up in the Lunatic
-Asylum in Ballinasloe, in the teeth of the Lord Chancellor and all the
-other lawyers in Ireland; cursed the shades of his father, deeply and
-copiously; assured Daly that he was only prevented from recovering his
-own property by the weakness and ignorance of his legal advisers, and
-ended by asking the attorney's advice as to his future conduct.
-
-"What the d----l, then, am I to do with the confounded ideot?" said he.
-
-"If you'll take my advice, you'll do nothing."
-
-"What, and let her marry and have that young blackguard brought up to
-Dunmore under my very nose?"
-
-"I'm very much afraid, Mr Lynch, if you wish to be quit of Martin
-Kelly, it is you must lave Dunmore. You may be shure he won't."
-
-"Oh, as for that, I've nothing to tie me to Dunmore. I hate the place;
-I never meant to live there. If I only saw my sister properly taken
-care of, and that it was put out of her power to throw herself away, I
-should leave it at once."
-
-"Between you and me, Mr Lynch, she will be taken care of; and as for
-throwing herself away, she must judge of that herself. Take my word for
-it, the best thing for you to do is to come to terms with Martin Kelly,
-and to sell out your property in Dunmore. You'll make much better terms
-before marriage than you would afther, it stands to rason."
-
-Barry was half standing, and half sitting on the small parlour table,
-and there he remained for a few minutes, meditating on Daly's most
-unpleasant proposal. It was a hard pill for him to swallow, and he
-couldn't get it down without some convulsive grimaces. He bit his under
-lip, till the blood came through it, and at last said,
-
-"Why, you've taken this thing up, Daly, as if you were to be paid by
-the Kellys instead of by me! I can't understand it, confound me if I
-can!"
-
-Daly turned very red at the insinuation. He was within an ace of
-seizing Lynch by the collar, and expelling him in a summary way from
-his premises, a feat which he was able to perform; and willing also,
-for he was sick of his client; but he thought of it a second time, and
-restrained himself.
-
-"Mr Lynch," he said, after a moment or two, "that's the second time
-you've made an observation of that kind to me; and I'll tell you what;
-if your business was the best in the county, instead of being as bad a
-case as was ever put into a lawyer's hands, I wouldn't stand it from
-you. If you think you can let out your passion against me, as you do
-against your own people, you'll find your mistake out very soon; so
-you'd betther mind what you're saying."
-
-"Why, what the devil did I say?" said Lynch, half abashed.
-
-"I'll not repeat it--and you hadn't betther, either. And now, do you
-choose to hear my professional advice, and behave to me as you ought
-and shall do? or will you go out of this and look out for another
-attorney? To tell you the truth, I'd jist as lieve you'd take your
-business to some one else."
-
-Barry's brow grew very black, and he looked at Daly as though he would
-much like to insult him again if he dared. But he did not dare. He had
-no one else to look to for advice or support; he had utterly estranged
-from him his father's lawyer; and though he suspected that Daly was not
-true to him, he felt that he could not break with him. He was obliged,
-therefore, to swallow his wrath, though it choked him, and to mutter
-something in the shape of an apology.
-
-It was a mutter: Daly heard something about its being only a joke,
-and not expecting to be taken up so d---- sharp; and, accepting these
-sounds as an _amende honorable_ [32], again renewed his functions as
-attorney.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 32: amende honorable--(French) apology]
-
-"Will you authorise me to see Martin Kelly, and to treat with him?
-You'll find it the cheapest thing you can do; and, more than that,
-it'll be what nobody can blame you for."
-
-"How treat with him?--I owe him nothing--I don't see what I've got to
-treat with him about. Am I to offer him half the property on condition
-he'll consent to marry my sister? Is that what you mean?"
-
-"No: that's not what I mean; but it'll come to much the same thing in
-the end. In the first place, you must withdraw all opposition to Miss
-Lynch's marriage; indeed, you must give it your direct sanction; and,
-in the next place, you must make an amicable arrangement with Martin
-about the division of the property."
-
-"What--coolly give him all he has the impudence to ask?--throw up the
-game altogether, and pitch the whole stakes into his lap?--Why, Daly,
-you--"
-
-"Well, Mr Lynch, finish your speech," said Daly, looking him full in
-the face.
-
-Barry had been on the point of again accusing the attorney of playing
-false to him, but he paused in time; he caught Daly's eye, and did not
-dare to finish the sentence which he had begun.
-
-"I can't understand you, I mean," said he; "I can't understand what
-you're after: but go on; may-be you're right, but I can't see, for the
-life of me. What am I to get by such a plan as that?"
-
-Barry was now cowed and frightened; he had no dram-bottle by him to
-reassure him, and he became, comparatively speaking, calm and subdued.
-Indeed, before the interview was over he fell into a pitiably
-lachrymose tone, and claimed sympathy for the many hardships he had to
-undergo through the ill-treatment of his family.
-
-"I'll try and explain to you, Mr Lynch, what you'll get by it. As
-far as I can understand, your father left about eight hundred a-year
-between the two--that's you and your sisther; and then there's the
-house and furniture. Nothing on earth can keep her out of her property,
-or prevent her from marrying whom she plases. Martin Kelly, who is
-an honest fellow, though sharp enough, has set his eye on her, and
-before many weeks you'll find he'll make her his wife. Undher these
-circumstances, wouldn't he be the best tenant you could find for
-Dunmore? You're not fond of the place, and will be still less so when
-he's your brother-in-law. Lave it altogether, Mr Lynch; give him a
-laise of the whole concern, and if you'll do that now at once, take
-my word for it you'll get more out of Dunmore than iver you will by
-staying here, and fighting the matther out."
-
-"But about the debts, Daly?"
-
-"Why, I suppose the fact is, the debts are all your own, eh?"
-
-"Well--suppose they are?"
-
-"Exactly so: personal debts of your own. Why, when you've made some
-final arrangement about the property, you must make some other
-arrangement with your creditors. But that's quite a separate affair;
-you don't expect Martin Kelly to pay your debts, I suppose?"
-
-"But I might get a sum of money for the good-will, mightn't I?"
-
-"I don't think Martin's able to put a large sum down. I'll tell you
-what I think you might ask; and what I think he would give, to get
-your good-will and consent to the match, and to prevent any further
-difficulty. I think he'd become your tenant, for the whole of your
-share, at a rent of five-hundred a year; and maybe he'd give you three
-hundred pounds for the furniture and stock, and things about the place.
-If so, you should give him a laise of three lives."
-
-There was a good deal in this proposition that was pleasing to Barry's
-mind: five hundred a-year without any trouble in collecting it; the
-power of living abroad in the unrestrained indulgence of hotels and
-billiard rooms; the probable chance of being able to retain his income
-and bilk his creditors; the prospect of shaking off from himself the
-consequences of a connection with the Kellys, and being for ever rid of
-Dunmore encumbrances. These things all opened before his eyes a vista
-of future, idle, uncontrolled enjoyment, just suited to his taste, and
-strongly tempted him at once to close with Daly's offer. But still,
-he could hardly bring himself to consent to be vanquished by his own
-sister; it was wormwood to him to think that after all she should be
-left to the undisturbed enjoyment of her father's legacy. He had been
-brow-beaten by the widow, insulted by young Kelly, cowed and silenced
-by the attorney whom he had intended to patronise and convert into a
-creature of his own: he could however have borne and put up with all
-this, if he could only have got his will of his sister; but to give up
-to her, who had been his slave all his life--to own, at last, that he
-had no power over her, whom he had always looked upon as so abject, so
-mean a thing; to give in, of his own accord, to the robbery which had
-been committed on him by his own father; and to do this, while he felt
-convinced as he still did, that a sufficiently unscrupulous attorney
-could save him from such cruel disgrace and loss, was a trial to which
-he could hardly bring himself to submit, crushed and tamed as he was.
-
-He still sat on the edge of the parlour table, and there he remained
-mute, balancing the pros and cons of Daly's plan. Daly waited a minute
-or two for his answer, and, finding that he said nothing, left him
-alone for a time, to make up his mind, telling him that he would return
-in about a quarter of an hour. Barry never moved from his position; it
-was an important question he had to settle, and so he felt it, for he
-gave up to the subject his undivided attention. Since his boyhood he
-had looked forward to a life of ease, pleasure, and licence, and had
-longed for his father's death that he might enjoy it. It seemed now
-within his reach; for his means, though reduced, would still be
-sufficient for sensual gratification. But, idle, unprincipled, brutal,
-castaway wretch as Barry was, he still felt the degradation of
-inaction, when he had such stimulating motives to energy as unsatisfied
-rapacity and hatred for his sister: ignorant as he was of the meaning
-of the word right, he tried to persuade himself that it would be wrong
-in him to yield.
-
-Could he only pluck up sufficient courage to speak his mind to Daly,
-and frighten him into compliance with his wishes, he still felt that he
-might be successful--that he might, by some legal tactics, at any rate
-obtain for himself the management of his sister's property. But this
-he could not do: he felt that Daly was his master; and though he still
-thought that he might have triumphed had he come sufficiently prepared,
-that is, with a considerable quantum of spirits inside him, he knew
-himself well enough to be aware that he could do nothing without this
-assistance; and, alas, he could not obtain it there. He had great
-reliance in the efficacy of whiskey; he would trust much to a large
-dose of port wine; but with brandy he considered himself invincible.
-
-He sat biting his lip, trying to think, trying to make up his mind,
-trying to gain sufficient self-composure to finish his interview with
-Daly with some appearance of resolution and self-confidence, but it was
-in vain; when the attorney returned, his face still plainly showed that
-he was utterly unresolved, utterly unable to resolve on anything.
-
-"Well, Mr Lynch," said Daly, "will you let me spake to Kelly about
-this, or would you rather sleep on the matther?"
-
-Barry gave a long sigh--"Wouldn't he give six hundred, Daly? he'd still
-have two hundred clear, and think what that'd be for a fellow like
-him!"
-
-"You must ask him for it yourself then; I'll not propose to him any
-such thing. Upon my soul, he'll be a great fool to give the five
-hundred, because he's no occasion to meddle with you in the matther at
-all, at all. But still I think he may give it; but as for asking for
-more--at any rate I won't do it; you can do what you like, yourself."
-
-"And am I to sell the furniture, and everything--horses, cattle, and
-everything about the place--for three hundred pounds?"
-
-"Not unless you like it, you ain't, Mr Lynch; but I'll tell you
-this--if you can do so, and do do so, it'll be the best bargain you
-ever made:--mind, one-half of it all belongs to your sisther."
-
-Barry muttered an oath through his ground teeth; he would have liked to
-scratch the ashes of his father from their resting-place, and wreak his
-vengeance on them, whenever this degrading fact was named to him.
-
-"But I want the money, Daly," said he: "I couldn't get afloat unless I
-had more than that: I couldn't pay your bill, you know, unless I got a
-higher figure down than that. Come, Daly, you must do something for me;
-you must do something, you know, to earn the fees," and he tried to
-look facetious, by giving a wretched ghastly grin.
-
-"My bill won't be a long one, Mr Lynch, and you may be shure I'm trying
-to make it as short as I can. And as for earning it, whatever you may
-think, I can assure you I shall never have got money harder. I've now
-given you my best advice; if your mind's not yet made up, perhaps
-you'll have the goodness to let me hear from you when it is?" and Daly
-walked from the fire towards the door, and placed his hand upon the
-handle of it.
-
-This was a hint which Barry couldn't misunderstand. "Well, I'll write
-to you," he said, and passed through the door. He felt, however, that
-it was useless to attempt to trust himself to his own judgment, and he
-turned back, as Daly passed into his office--"Daly," he said, "step out
-one minute: I won't keep you a second." The attorney unwillingly lifted
-up the counter, and came out to him. "Manage it your own way," said
-he; "do whatever you think best; but you must see that I've been badly
-used--infernally cruelly treated, and you ought to do the best you can
-for me. Here am I, giving away, as I may say, my own property to a
-young shopkeeper, and upon my soul you ought to make him pay something
-for it; upon my soul you ought, for it's only fair!"
-
-"I've tould you, Mr Lynch, what I'll propose to Martin Kelly; if you
-don't think the terms fair, you can propose any others yourself; or
-you're at liberty to employ any other agent you please."
-
-Barry sighed again, but he yielded. He felt broken-hearted, and
-unhappy, and he longed to quit a country so distasteful to him, and
-relatives and neighbours so ungrateful; he longed in his heart for the
-sweet, easy haunts of Boulogne, which he had never known, but of which
-he had heard many a glowing description from congenial spirits whom he
-knew. He had heard enough of the ways and means of many a leading
-star in that Elysium, to be aware that, with five hundred a-year,
-unembarrassed and punctually paid, he might shine as a prince indeed.
-He would go at once to that happy foreign shore, where the memory of no
-father would follow him, where the presence of no sister would degrade
-and irritate him, where billiard-tables were rife, and brandy cheap;
-where virtue was easy, and restraint unnecessary; where no duties would
-harass him, no tenants upbraid him, no duns persecute him. There,
-carefully guarding himself against the schemes of those less fortunate
-followers of pleasure among whom he would be thrown in his social
-hours, he would convert every shilling of his income to some purpose of
-self-enjoyment, and live a life of luxurious abandonment. And he need
-not be altogether idle, he reflected within himself afterwards, as he
-was riding home: he felt that he was possessed of sufficient energy and
-talent to make himself perfectly master of a pack of cards, to be a
-proficient over a billiard-table, and even to get the upper hand of a
-box of dice. With such pursuits left to him, he might yet live to be
-talked of, feared, and wealthy; and Barry's utmost ambition would have
-carried him no further.
-
-As I said before, he yielded to the attorney, and commissioned him
-fully to treat with Martin Kelly in the manner proposed by himself.
-Martin was to give him five hundred a-year for his share of the
-property, and three hundred pounds for the furniture, &c.; and Barry
-was to give his sister his written and unconditional assent to her
-marriage; was to sign any document which might be necessary as to her
-settlement, and was then to leave Dunmore for ever. Daly made him write
-an authority for making such a proposal, by which he bound himself to
-the terms, should they be acceded to by the other party.
-
-"But you must bear in mind," added Daly, as his client for the second
-time turned from the door, "that I don't guarantee that Martin Kelly
-will accept these terms: it's very likely he may be sharp enough to
-know that he can manage as well without you as he can with you. You'll
-remember that, Mr Lynch."
-
-"I will--I will, Daly; but look here--if he bites freely--and I think
-he will, and if you find you could get as much as a thousand out of
-him, or even eight hundred, you shall have one hundred clear for
-yourself."
-
-This was Barry's last piece of diplomacy for that day. Daly vouchsafed
-him no answer, but returned into his office, and Barry mounted his
-horse, and returned home not altogether ill-pleased with his prospects,
-but still regretting that he should have gone about so serious a piece
-of business, so utterly unprepared.
-
-These regrets rose stronger, when his after-dinner courage returned to
-him as he sate solitary over his fire. "I should have had him here,"
-said he to himself, "and not gone to that confounded cold hole of
-his. After all, there's no place for a cock to fight on like his own
-dunghill; and there's nothing able to carry a fellow well through a
-tough bit of jobation [33] with a lawyer like a stiff tumbler of brandy
-punch. It'd have been worth a couple of hundred to me, to have had him
-out here--impertinent puppy! Well, devil a halfpenny I'll pay him!"
-This thought was consolatory, and he began again to think of Boulogne.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 33: jobation--a tedious session; scolding]
-
-
-
-
-XXI.  LORD BALLINDINE AT HOME
-
-
-Two days after the last recorded interview between Lord Ballindine and
-his friend, Dot Blake, the former found himself once more sitting down
-to dinner with his mother and sisters, the Honourable Mrs O'Kelly and
-the Honourable Misses O'Kelly; at least such were the titular dignities
-conferred on them in County Mayo, though I believe, strictly speaking,
-the young ladies had no claim to the appellation.
-
-Mrs O'Kelly was a very small woman, with no particularly developed
-character, and perhaps of no very general utility. She was fond of her
-daughters, and more than fond of her son, partly because he was so
-tall and so handsome, and partly because he was the lord, the head
-of the family, and the owner of the house. She was, on the whole, a
-good-natured person, though perhaps her temper was a little soured by
-her husband having, very unfairly, died before he had given her a right
-to call herself Lady Ballindine. She was naturally shy and reserved,
-and the seclusion of O'Kelly's Court did not tend to make her less so;
-but she felt that the position and rank of her son required her to be
-dignified; and consequently, when in society, she somewhat ridiculously
-aggravated her natural timidity with an assumed rigidity of demeanour.
-She was, however, a good woman, striving, with small means, to do the
-best for her family; prudent and self-denying, and very diligent in
-looking after the house servants.
-
-Her two daughters had been, at the instance of their grandfather, the
-courtier, christened Augusta and Sophia, after the two Princesses of
-that name, and were now called Guss and Sophy: they were both pretty,
-good-natured girls--one with dark brown and the other light brown hair:
-they both played the harp badly, sung tolerably, danced well, and were
-very fond of nice young men. They both thought Kelly's Court rather
-dull; but then they had known nothing better since they had grown up,
-and there were some tolerably nice people not very far off, whom they
-occasionally saw: there were the Dillons, of Ballyhaunis, who had
-three thousand a-year, and spent six; they were really a delightful
-family--three daughters and four sons, all unmarried, and up to
-anything: the sons all hunted, shot, danced, and did everything that
-they ought to do--at least in the eyes of young ladies; though some of
-their more coldly prudent acquaintances expressed an opinion that it
-would be as well if the three younger would think of doing something
-for themselves; but they looked so manly and handsome when they
-breakfasted at Kelly's Court on a hunt morning, with their bright tops,
-red coats, and hunting-caps, that Guss and Sophy, and a great many
-others, thought it would be a shame to interrupt them in their career.
-And then, Ballyhaunis was only eight miles from Kelly's Court; though
-they were Irish miles, it is true, and the road was not patronised by
-the Grand Jury; but the distance was only eight miles, and there were
-always beds for them when they went to dinner at Peter Dillon's. Then
-there were the Blakes of Castletown. To be sure they could give no
-parties, for they were both unmarried; but they were none the worse
-for that, and they had plenty of horses, and went out everywhere.
-And the Blakes of Morristown; they also were very nice people; only
-unfortunately, old Blake was always on his keeping, and couldn't show
-himself out of doors except on Sundays, for fear of the bailiffs. And
-the Browns of Mount Dillon, and the Browns of Castle Brown; and General
-Bourke of Creamstown. All these families lived within fifteen or
-sixteen miles of Kelly's Court, and prevented the O'Kellys from
-feeling themselves quite isolated from the social world. Their nearest
-neighbours, however, were the Armstrongs, and of them they saw a great
-deal.
-
-The Reverend Joseph Armstrong was rector of Ballindine, and Mrs O'Kelly
-was his parishioner, and the only Protestant one he had; and, as Mr
-Armstrong did not like to see his church quite deserted, and as Mrs
-O'Kelly was, as she flattered herself, a very fervent Protestant, they
-were all in all to each other.
-
-Ballindine was not a good living, and Mr Armstrong had a very large
-family; he was, therefore, a poor man. His children were helpless,
-uneducated, and improvident; his wife was nearly worn out with the
-labours of bringing them forth and afterwards catering for them; and
-a great portion of his own life was taken up in a hard battle with
-tradesmen and tithe-payers, creditors, and debtors. Yet, in spite of
-the insufficiency of his two hundred a-year to meet all or half his
-wants, Mr Armstrong was not an unhappy man. At any moment of social
-enjoyment he forgot all his cares and poverty, and was always the
-first to laugh, and the last to cease to do so. He never refused an
-invitation to dinner, and if he did not entertain many in his own
-house, it was his fortune, and not his heart, that prevented him from
-doing so. He could hardly be called a good clergyman, and yet his
-remissness was not so much his own fault as that of circumstances. How
-could a Protestant rector be a good parish clergyman, with but one old
-lady and her daughters, for the exercise of his clerical energies and
-talents? He constantly lauded the zeal of St. Paul for proselytism;
-but, as he himself once observed, even St. Paul had never had to deal
-with the obstinacy of an Irish Roman Catholic. He often regretted the
-want of work, and grieved that his profession, as far as he saw and had
-been instructed, required nothing of him but a short service on every
-Sunday morning, and the celebration of the Eucharist four times a-year;
-but such were the facts; and the idleness which this want of work
-engendered, and the habits which his poverty induced, had given him
-a character as a clergyman, very different from that which the high
-feelings and strict principles which animated him at his ordination
-would have seemed to ensure. He was, in fact, a loose, slovenly man,
-somewhat too fond of his tumbler of punch; a little lax, perhaps, as to
-clerical discipline, but very staunch as to doctrine. He possessed no
-industry or energy of any kind; but he was good-natured and charitable,
-lived on friendly terms with all his neighbours, and was intimate with
-every one that dwelt within ten miles of him, priest and parson, lord
-and commoner.
-
-Such was the neighbourhood of Kelly's Court, and among such Lord
-Ballindine had now made up his mind to remain a while, till
-circumstances should decide what further steps he should take with
-regard to Fanny Wyndham. There were a few hunting days left in the
-season, which he intended to enjoy; and then he must manage to make
-shift to lull the time with shooting, fishing, farming, and nursing his
-horses and dogs.
-
-His mother and sisters had heard nothing of the rumour of the quarrel
-between Frank and Fanny, which Mat Tierney had so openly alluded to at
-Handicap Lodge; and he was rather put out by their eager questions on
-the subject. Nothing was said about it till the servant withdrew, after
-dinner, but the three ladies were too anxious for information to delay
-their curiosity any longer.
-
-"Well, Frank," said the elder sister, who was sitting over the
-fire, close to his left elbow--(he had a bottle of claret at his
-right)--"well, Frank, do tell us something about Fanny Wyndham; we are
-so longing to hear; and you never will write, you know."
-
-"Everybody says it's a brilliant match," said the mother. "They say
-here she's forty thousand pounds: I'm sure I hope she has, Frank."
-
-"But when is it to be?" said Sophy. "She's of age now, isn't she? and
-I thought you were only waiting for that. I'm sure we shall like her;
-come, Frank, do tell us--when are we to see Lady Ballindine?"
-
-Frank looked rather serious and embarrassed, but did not immediately
-make any reply.
-
-"You haven't quarrelled, have you, Frank?" said the mother.
-
-"The match isn't off--is it?" said Guss.
-
-"Miss Wyndham has just lost her only brother," said he; "he died quite
-suddenly in London about ten days since; she was very much attached to
-him."
-
-"Good gracious, how shocking!" said Sophy.
-
-"I'm sorry," said Guss.
-
-"Why, Frank," said their mother, now excited into absolute animation;
-"his fortune was more than double hers, wasn't it?--who'll have it
-now?"
-
-"It was, mother; five times as much as hers, I believe."
-
-"Gracious powers! and who has it now? Why don't you tell me, Frank?"
-
-"His sister Fanny."
-
-"Heavens and earth!--I hope you're not going to let her quarrel with
-you, are you? Has there been anything between you? Have there been any
-words between you and Lord Cashel? Why don't you tell me, Frank, when
-you know how anxious I am?"
-
-"If you must know all about it, I have not had any words, as you call
-them, with Fanny Wyndham; but I have with her guardian. He thinks a
-hundred and twenty thousand pounds much too great a fortune for a
-Connaught viscount. However, I don't think so. It will be for time to
-show what Fanny thinks. Meanwhile, the less said about it the better;
-remember that, girls, will you?"
-
-"Oh, we will--we won't say a word about it; but she'll never change her
-mind because of her money, will she?"
-
-"That's what would make me love a man twice the more," said Guss; "or
-at any rate show it twice the stronger."
-
-"Frank," said the anxious mother, "for heaven's sake don't let anything
-stand between you and Lord Cashel; think what a thing it is you'd lose!
-Why; it'd pay all the debts, and leave the property worth twice what it
-ever was before. If Lord Cashel thinks you ought to give up the hounds,
-do it at once, Frank; anything rather than quarrel with him. You could
-get them again, you know, when all's settled."
-
-"I've given up quite as much as I intend for Lord Cashel."
-
-"Now, Frank, don't be a fool, or you'll repent it all your life: what
-does it signify how much you give up to such a man as Lord Cashel? You
-don't think, do you, that he objects to our being at Kelly's Court?
-Because I'm sure we wouldn't stay a moment if we thought that."
-
-"Mother, I wouldn't part with a cur dog out of the place to please Lord
-Cashel. But if I were to do everything on earth at his beck and will,
-it would make no difference: he will never let me marry Fanny Wyndham
-if he can help it; but, thank God, I don't believe he can."
-
-"I hope not--I hope not. You'll never see half such a fortune again."
-
-"Well, mother, say nothing about it one way or the other, to anybody.
-And as you now know how the matter stands, it's no good any of us
-talking more about it till I've settled what I mean to do myself."
-
-"I shall hate her," said Sophy, "if her getting all her brother's money
-changes her; but I'm sure it won't." And so the conversation ended.
-
-Lord Ballindine had not rested in his paternal halls the second night,
-before he had commenced making arrangements for a hunt breakfast, by
-way of letting all his friends know that he was again among them.
-And so missives, in Guss and Sophy's handwriting, were sent round
-by a bare-legged little boy, to all the Mounts, Towns, and Castles,
-belonging to the Dillons, Blakes, Bourkes, and Browns of the
-neighbourhood, to tell them that the dogs would draw the Kelly's Court
-covers at eleven o'clock on the following Tuesday morning, and that the
-preparatory breakfast would be on the table at ten. This was welcome
-news to the whole neighbourhood. It was only on the Sunday evening
-that the sportsmen got the intimation, and very busy most of them
-were on the following Monday to see that their nags and breeches
-were all right--fit to work and fit to be seen. The four Dillons, of
-Ballyhaunis, gave out to their grooms a large assortment of pipe-clay
-and putty-powder. Bingham Blake, of Castletown, ordered a new set of
-girths to his hunting saddle; and his brother Jerry, who was in no
-slight degree proud of his legs, but whose nether trappings were rather
-the worse from the constant work of a heavy season, went so far as to
-go forth very early on the Monday morning to excite the Ballinrobe
-tailor to undertake the almost impossible task of completing him a pair
-of doeskin by the Tuesday morning. The work was done, and the breeches
-home at Castletown by eight--though the doeskin had to be purchased in
-Tuam, and an assistant artist taken away from his mother's wake, to sit
-up all night over the seams. But then the tailor owed a small trifle
-of arrear of rent for his potato-garden, and his landlord was Jerry
-Blake's cousin-german [34]. There's nothing carries one further than a
-good connexion, thought both Jerry and the tailor when the job was
-finished.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 34: cousin-german--first cousin]
-
-Among the other invitations sent was one to Martin Kelly,--not exactly
-worded like the others, for though Lord Ballindine was perhaps more
-anxious to see him than anyone else, Martin had not yet got quite so
-high in the ladder of life as to be asked to breakfast at Kelly's
-Court. But the fact that Frank for a moment thought of asking him
-showed that he was looking upwards in the world's estimation. Frank
-wrote him a note himself, saying that the hounds would throw off at
-Kelly's Court, at eleven; that, if he would ride over, he would be sure
-to see a good hunt, and that he, Lord Ballindine, had a few words to
-say to him on business, just while the dogs were being put into the
-cover. Martin, as usual, had a good horse which he was disposed to
-sell, if, as he said, he got its value; and wrote to say he would wait
-on Lord Ballindine at eleven. The truth was, Frank wanted to borrow
-money from him.
-
-Another note was sent to the Glebe, requesting the Rector to come to
-breakfast and to look at the hounds being thrown off. The modest style
-of the invitation was considered as due to Mr Armstrong's clerical
-position, but was hardly rendered necessary by his habits; for though
-the parson attended such meetings in an old suit of rusty black, and
-rode an equally rusty-looking pony, he was always to be seen, at the
-end of the day, among those who were left around the dogs.
-
-On the Tuesday morning there was a good deal of bustle at Kelly's
-Court. All the boys about the place were collected in front of the
-house, to walk the gentlemen's horses about while the riders were at
-breakfast, and earn a sixpence or a fourpenny bit; and among them,
-sitting idly on the big steppingstone placed near the door, was Jack
-the fool, who, for the day, seemed to have deserted the service of
-Barry Lynch.
-
-And now the red-coats flocked up to the door, and it was laughable
-to see the knowledge of character displayed by the gossoons in the
-selection of their customers. One or two, who were known to be "bad
-pays," were allowed to dismount without molestation of any kind, and
-could not even part with their steeds till they had come to an absolute
-bargain as to the amount of gratuity to be given. Lambert Brown was one
-of these unfortunate characters--a younger brother who had a little,
-and but a very little money, and who was determined to keep that. He
-was a miserable hanger-on at his brother's house, without profession
-or prospects; greedy, stingy, and disagreeable; endowed with a squint,
-and long lank light-coloured hair: he was a bad horseman, always
-craning and shirking in the field, boasting and lying after dinner;
-nevertheless, he was invited and endured because he was one of the
-Browns of Mount Dillon, cousin to the Browns of Castle Brown, nephew to
-Mrs Dillon the member's wife, and third cousin of Lord Ballaghaderrin.
-
-He dismounted in the gravel circle before the door, and looked round
-for someone to take his horse; but none of the urchins would come to
-him. At last he caught hold of a little ragged boy whom he knew, from
-his own side of the country, and who had come all the way there, eight
-long Irish miles, on the chance of earning sixpence and seeing a hunt.
-
-"Here, Patsy, come here, you born little divil," and he laid hold of
-the arm of the brat, who was trying to escape from him--"come and hold
-my horse for me--and I'll not forget you."
-
-"Shure, yer honer, Mr Lambert, I can't thin, for I'm afther engaging
-myself this blessed minute to Mr Larry Dillon, only he's jist trotted
-round to the stables to spake a word to Mick Keogh."
-
-"Don't be lying, you little blackguard; hould the horse, and don't stir
-out of that."
-
-"Shure how can I, Mr Lambert, when I've been and guv my word to Mr
-Larry?" and the little fellow put his hands behind him, that he might
-not be forced to take hold of the reins.
-
-"Don't talk to me, you young imp, but take the horse. I'll not forget
-you when I come out. What's the matter with you, you fool; d'ye think
-I'd tell you a lie about it?"
-
-Patsy evidently thought he would; for though he took the horse almost
-upon compulsion, he whimpered as he did so, and said:
-
-"Shure, Mr Lambert, would you go and rob a poor boy of his chances?--I
-come'd all the way from Ballyglass this blessed morning to 'arn a
-tizzy, and av' I doesn't get it from you this turn, I'll--" But Lambert
-Brown had gone into the house, and on his return after breakfast he
-fully justified the lad's suspicion, for he again promised him that he
-wouldn't forget him, and that he'd see him some day at Mr Dillon's.
-
-"Well, Lambert Brown," said the boy, as that worthy gentleman rode off,
-"it's you're the raal blackguard--and it's well all the counthry knows
-you: sorrow be your bed this night; it's little the poor'll grieve for
-you, when you're stretched, or the rich either, for the matther of
-that."
-
-Very different was the reception Bingham Blake got, as he drove up with
-his tandem and tax-cart: half-a-dozen had kept themselves idle, each in
-the hope of being the lucky individual to come in for Bingham's
-shilling.
-
-"Och, Mr Bingham, shure I'm first," roared one fellow.
-
-But the first, as he styled himself, was soon knocked down under the
-wheels of the cart by the others.
-
-"Mr Blake, thin--Mr Blake, darlint--doesn't ye remimber the promise you
-guv me?"
-
-"Mr Jerry, Mr Jerry, avick,"--this was addressed to the brother--"spake
-a word for me; do, yer honour; shure it was I come all the way from
-Teddy Mahony's with the breeches this morning, God bless 'em, and the
-fine legs as is in 'em."
-
-But they were all balked, for Blake had his servant there.
-
-"Get out, you blackguards!" said he, raising his tandem whip, as if to
-strike them. "Get out, you robbers! Are you going to take the cart and
-horses clean away from me? That mare'll settle some of ye, if you make
-so free with her! she's not a bit too chary of her hind feet. Get out
-of that, I tell you;" and he lightly struck with the point of his whip
-the boy who had Lambert Brown's horse.
-
-"Ah, Mr Bingham," said, the boy, pretending to rub the part very hard,
-"you owe me one for that, anyhow, and it's you are the good mark for
-it, God bless you."
-
-"Faix," said another, "one blow from your honour is worth two promises
-from Lambert Brown, any way."
-
-There was a great laugh at this among the ragged crew, for Lambert
-Brown was still standing on the doorsteps: when he heard this sally,
-however, he walked in, and the different red-coats and top-boots were
-not long in crowding after him.
-
-Lord Ballindine received them in the same costume, and very glad they
-all seemed to see him again. When an Irish gentleman is popular in his
-neighbourhood, nothing can exceed the real devotion paid to him; and
-when that gentleman is a master of hounds, and does not require a
-subscription, he is more than ever so.
-
-"Welcome back, Ballindine--better late than never; but why did you stay
-away so long?" said General Bourke, an old gentleman with long, thin,
-flowing grey hairs, waving beneath his broad-brimmed felt hunting-hat.
-"You're not getting so fond of the turf, I hope, as to be giving up the
-field for it? Give me the sport where I can ride my own horse myself;
-not where I must pay a young rascal for doing it for me, and robbing me
-into the bargain, most likely."
-
-"Quite right, General," said Frank; "so you see I've given up the
-Curragh, and come down to the dogs again."
-
-"Yes, but you've waited too long, man; the dogs have nearly done their
-work for this year. I'm sorry for it; the last day of the season is the
-worst day in the year to me. I'm ill for a week after it."
-
-"Well, General, please the pigs, we'll be in great tune next October.
-I've as fine a set of puppies to enter as there is in Ireland, let
-alone Connaught. You must come down, and tell me what you think of
-them."
-
-"Next October's all very well for you young fellows, but I'm
-seventy-eight. I always make up my mind that I'll never turn out
-another season, and it'll be true for me this year. I'm hunting over
-sixty years, Ballindine, in these three counties. I ought to have had
-enough of it by this time, you'll say."
-
-"I'll bet you ten pounds," said Bingham Blake, "that you hunt after
-eighty."
-
-"Done with you Bingham," said the General, and the bet was booked.
-
-General Bourke was an old soldier, who told the truth in saying that he
-had hunted over the same ground sixty years ago. But he had not been
-at it ever since, for he had in the meantime seen a great deal of hard
-active service, and obtained high military reputation. But he had again
-taken kindly to the national sport of his country, on returning to
-his own estate at the close of the Peninsular War; and had ever since
-attended the meets twice a week through every winter, with fewer
-exceptions than any other member of the hunt. He always wore
-top-boots--of the ancient cut, with deep painted tops and square toes,
-drawn tight up over the calf of his leg; a pair of most capacious
-dark-coloured leather breeches, the origin of which was unknown to
-any other present member of the hunt, and a red frock coat, very much
-soiled by weather, water, and wear. The General was a rich man, and
-therefore always had a horse to suit him. On the present occasion, he
-was riding a strong brown beast, called Parsimony, that would climb
-over anything, and creep down the gable end of a house if he were
-required to do so. He was got by OEconomy; those who know county Mayo
-know the breed well.
-
-They were now all crowded into the large dining-room at Kelly's Court;
-about five-and-twenty redcoats, and Mr Armstrong's rusty black. In
-spite of his shabby appearance, however, and the fact that the greater
-number of those around him were Roman Catholics, he seemed to be very
-popular with the lot; and his opinion on the important subject of its
-being a scenting morning was asked with as much confidence in his
-judgment, as though the foxes of the country were peculiarly subject to
-episcopalian jurisdiction.
-
-"Well, then, Peter," said he, "the wind's in the right quarter. Mick
-says there's a strong dog-fox in the long bit of gorse behind the firs;
-if he breaks from that he must run towards Ballintubber, and when
-you're once over the meering [5] into Roscommon, there's not an acre of
-tilled land, unless a herd's garden, between that and--the deuce knows
-where all--further than most of you'll like to ride, I take it."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 35: meering--a well-marked boundary, such as a ditch or
-                   fence, between farms, fields, bogs, etc]
-
-"How far'll you go yourself, Armstrong? Faith, I believe it's few of
-the crack nags'll beat the old black pony at a long day."
-
-"Is it I?" said the Parson, innocently. "As soon as I've heard the dogs
-give tongue, and seen them well on their game, I'll go home. I've land
-ploughing, and I must look after that. But, as I was saying, if the fox
-breaks well away from the gorse, you'll have the best run you've seen
-this season; but if he dodges back into the plantation, you'll have
-enough to do to make him break at all; and when he does, he'll go away
-towards Ballyhaunis, through as cross a country as ever a horse put a
-shoe into."
-
-And having uttered this scientific prediction, which was listened to
-with the greatest deference by Peter Dillon, the Rev. Joseph Armstrong
-turned his attention to the ham and tea.
-
-The three ladies were all smiles to meet their guests; Mrs O'Kelly,
-dressed in a piece of satin turk, came forward to shake hands with
-the General, but Sophy and Guss kept their positions, beneath the
-coffee-pot and tea-urn, at each end of the long table, being very
-properly of opinion that it was the duty of the younger part of the
-community to come forward, and make their overtures to them. Bingham
-Blake, the cynosure on whom the eyes of the beauty of county Mayo were
-most generally placed, soon found his seat beside Guss, rather to
-Sophy's mortification; but Sophy was good-natured, and when Peter
-Dillon placed himself at her right hand, she was quite happy, though
-Peter's father was still alive, and Bingham's had been dead this many a
-year and Castletown much in want of a mistress.
-
-"Now, Miss O'Kelly," said Bingham, "do let me manage the coffee-pot;
-the cream-jug and sugar-tongs will be quite enough for your energies."
-
-"Indeed and I won't, Mr Blake; you're a great deal too awkward, and a
-great deal too hungry. The last hunt-morning you breakfasted here you
-threw the coffee-grouts into the sugar-basin, when I let you help me."
-
-"To think of your remembering that!--but I'm improved since then. I've
-been taking lessons with my old aunt at Castlebar."
-
-"You don't mean you've really been staying with Lady Sarah?"
-
-"Oh, but I have, though. I was there three days; made tea every night;
-washed the poodle every morning, and clear-starched her Sunday
-pelerine, with my own hands on Saturday evening."
-
-"Oh, what a useful animal! What a husband you'll make, when you're a
-little more improved!"
-
-"Shan't I? As you're so fond of accomplishments, perhaps you'll take me
-yourself by-and-by?"
-
-"Why, as you're so useful, maybe I may."
-
-"Well, Lambert," said Lord Ballindine, across the table, to the stingy
-gentleman with the squint, "are you going to ride hard to-day?"
-
-"I'll go bail I'm not much behind, my lord," said Lambert; "if the dogs
-go, I'll follow."
-
-"I'll bet you a crown, Lambert," said his cousin, young Brown of Mount
-Brown, "the dogs kill, and you don't see them do it."
-
-"Oh, that may be, and yet I mayn't be much behind."
-
-"I'll bet you're not in the next field to them."
-
-"Maybe you'll not be within ten fields yourself."
-
-"Come, Lambert, I'll tell you what--we'll ride together, and I'll bet
-you a crown I pound you before you're over three leaps."
-
-"Ah, now, take it easy with yourself," said Lambert; "there are others
-ride better than you."
-
-"But no one better than yourself; is that it, eh?"
-
-"Well, Jerry, how do the new articles fit?" said Nicholas Dillon.
-
-"Pretty well, thank you: they'd be a deal more comfortable though, if
-you'd pay for them."
-
-"Did you hear, Miss O'Kelly, what Jerry Blake did yesterday?" said
-Nicholas Dillon aloud, across the table.
-
-"Indeed, I did not," said Guss--"but I hope, for the sake of the Blakes
-in general, he didn't do anything much amiss?"
-
-"I'll tell you then," continued Nicholas. "A portion of his ould
-hunting-dress--I'll not specify what, you know--but a portion, which
-he'd been wearing since the last election, were too shabby to show:
-well, he couldn't catch a hedge tailor far or near, only poor lame Andy
-Oulahan, who was burying his wife, rest her sowl, the very moment Jerry
-got a howld of him. Well, Jerry was wild that the tailors were so
-scarce, so he laid his hands on Andy, dragged him away from the corpse
-and all the illigant enthertainment of the funeral, and never let him
-out of sight till he'd put on the last button."
-
-"Oh, Mr Blake!" said Guss, "you did not take the man away from his dead
-wife?"
-
-"Indeed I did not, Miss O'Kelly: Andy'd no such good chance; his wife's
-to the fore this day, worse luck for him. It was only his mother he was
-burying."
-
-"But you didn't take him away from his mother's funeral?"
-
-"Oh, I did it according to law, you know. I got Bingham to give me a
-warrant first, before I let the policeman lay a hand on him."
-
-"Now, General, you've really made no breakfast at all," said the
-hospitable hostess: "do let Guss give you a hot cup of coffee."
-
-"Not a drop more, Mrs O'Kelly. I've done more than well; but, if you'll
-allow me, I'll just take a crust of bread in my pocket."
-
-"And what would you do that for?--you'll be coming back to lunch, you
-know."
-
-"Is it lunch, Mrs O'Kelly, pray don't think of troubling yourself to
-have lunch on the table. Maybe we'll be a deal nearer Creamstown than
-Kelly's Court at lunch time. But it's quite time we were off. As for
-Bingham Blake, from the look of him, he's going to stay here with your
-daughter Augusta all the morning."
-
-"I believe then he'd much sooner be with the dogs, General, than losing
-his time with her."
-
-"Are you going to move at all, Ballindine," said the impatient old
-sportsman. "Do you know what time it is?--it'll be twelve o'clock
-before you have the dogs in the cover."
-
-"Very good time, too, General: men must eat, you know, and the fox
-won't stir till we move him. But come, gentlemen, you seem to be
-dropping your knives and forks. Suppose we get into our saddles?"
-
-And again the red-coats sallied out. Bingham gave Guss a tender
-squeeze, which she all but returned, as she bade him take care and not
-go and kill himself. Peter Dillon stayed to have a few last words with
-Sophy, and to impress upon her his sister Nora's message, that she and
-_her_ sister were to be sure to come over on Friday to Ballyhaunis, and
-spend the night there.
-
-"We will, if we're let, tell Nora," said Sophy; "but now Frank's at
-home, we must mind him, you know."
-
-"Make him bring you over: there'll be a bed for him; the old house is
-big enough, heaven knows."
-
-"Indeed it is. Well, I'll do my best; but tell Nora to be sure and get
-the fiddler from Hollymount. It's so stupid for her to be sitting there
-at the piano while we're dancing."
-
-"I'll manage that; only do you bring Frank to dance with her," and
-another tender squeeze was given--and Peter hurried out to the horses.
-
-And now they were all gone but the Parson. "Mrs O'Kelly," said he, "Mrs
-Armstrong wants a favour from you. Poor Minny's very bad with her
-throat; she didn't get a wink of sleep last night."
-
-"Dear me--poor thing; Can I send her anything?"
-
-"If you could let them have a little black currant jelly, Mrs Armstrong
-would be so thankful. She has so much to think of, and is so weak
-herself, poor thing, she hasn't time to make those things."
-
-"Indeed I will, Mr Armstrong. I'll send it down this morning; and a
-little calf's foot jelly won't hurt her. It is in the house, and Mrs
-Armstrong mightn't be able to get the feet, you know. Give them my
-love, and if I can get out at all to-morrow, I'll go and see them."
-
-And so the Parson, having completed his domestic embassy for the
-benefit of his sick little girl, followed the others, keen for the
-hunt; and the three ladies were left alone, to see the plate and china
-put away.
-
-
-
-
-XXII.  THE HUNT
-
-
-Though the majority of those who were in the habit of hunting with
-the Kelly's Court hounds had been at the breakfast, there were still
-a considerable number of horsemen waiting on the lawn in front of
-the house, when Frank and his friends sallied forth. The dogs were
-collected round the huntsman, behaving themselves, for the most part,
-with admirable propriety; an occasional yelp from a young hound would
-now and then prove that the whipper [36] had his eye on them, and would
-not allow rambling; but the old dogs sat demurely on their haunches,
-waiting the well-known signal for action. There they sat, as grave
-as so many senators, with their large heads raised, their heavy lips
-hanging from each side of their jaws, and their deep, strong chests
-expanded so as to show fully their bone, muscle, and breeding.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 36: whipper--an officer of the hunt whose duty was to
-                   help the hunstman control the hounds]
-
-Among the men who had arrived on the lawn during breakfast were two who
-certainly had not come together, and who had not spoken since they had
-been there. They were Martin Kelly and Barry Lynch. Martin was dressed
-just as usual, except that he had on a pair of spurs, but Barry
-was armed cap-a-pie [37]. Some time before his father's death he
-had supplied himself with all the fashionable requisites for the
-field,--not because he was fond of hunting, for he was not,--but in
-order to prove himself as much a gentleman as other people. He had been
-out twice this year, but had felt very miserable, for no one spoke to
-him, and he had gone home, on both occasions, early in the day; but
-he had now made up his mind that he would show himself to his old
-schoolfellow in his new character as an independent country gentleman;
-and what was more, he was determined that Lord Ballindine should not
-cut him.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 37: cap-a-pie--from head to foot]
-
-He very soon had an opportunity for effecting his purpose, for the
-moment that Frank got on his horse, he unintentionally rode close up to
-him.
-
-"How d'ye do, my lord?--I hope I see your lordship well?" said Barry,
-with a clumsy attempt at ease and familiarity. "I'm glad to find your
-lordship in the field before the season's over."
-
-"Good morning, Mr Lynch," said Frank, and was turning away from him,
-when, remembering that he must have come from Dunmore, he asked, "did
-you see Martin Kelly anywhere?"
-
-"Can't say I did, my lord," said Barry, and he turned away completely
-silenced, and out of countenance.
-
-Martin had been talking to the huntsman, and criticizing the hounds.
-He knew every dog's name, character, and capabilities, and also every
-horse in Lord Ballindine's stable, and was consequently held in great
-respect by Mick Keogh and his crew.
-
-And now the business began. "Mick," said the lord, "we'll take them
-down to the young plantation, and bring them back through the firs and
-so into the gorse. If the lad's lying there, we must hit him that way."
-
-"That's thrue for yer honer, my lord;" and he started off with his
-obedient family.
-
-"You're wrong, Ballindine," said the Parson; "for you'll drive him up
-into the big plantation, and you'll be all day before you make him
-break; and ten to one they'll chop him in the cover."
-
-"Would you put them into the gorse at once then?"
-
-"Take 'em gently through the firs; maybe he's lying out--and down into
-the gorse, and then, if he's there, he must go away, and into a tip-top
-country too--miles upon miles of pasture--right away to Ballintubber,"
-
-"That's thrue, too, my lord: let his Rivirence alone for understandhing
-a fox," said Mick, with a wink.
-
-The Parson's behests were obeyed. The hounds followed Mick into the
-plantation, and were followed by two or three of the more eager of the
-party, who did not object to receiving wet boughs in their faces, or
-who delighted in riding for half an hour with their heads bowed close
-down over their saddle-bows. The rest remained with the whipper,
-outside.
-
-"Stay a moment here, Martin," said Lord Ballindine. "They can't get
-away without our seeing them, and I want to speak a few words to you."
-
-"And I want particularly to spake to your lordship," said Martin; "and
-there's no fear of the fox! I never knew a fox lie in those firs yet."
-
-"Nor I either, but you see the Parson would have his way. I suppose, if
-the priest were out, and he told you to run the dogs through the
-gooseberry-bushes, you'd do it?"
-
-"I'm blessed if I would, my lord! Every man to his trade. Not but what
-Mr Armstrong knows pretty well what he's about."
-
-"Well but, Martin, I'll tell you what I want of you. I want a little
-money, without bothering those fellows up in Dublin; and I believe you
-could let me have it; at any rate, you and your mother together. Those
-fellows at Guinness's are stiff about it, and I want three hundred
-pounds, without absolutely telling them that they must give it me. I'd
-give you my bill for the amount at twelve months, and, allow you six
-per cent.; but then I want it immediately. Can you let me have it?"
-
-"Why, my lord," said Martin, after pausing awhile and looking very
-contemplative during the time, "I certainly have the money; that is, I
-and mother together; but--"
-
-"Oh, if you've any doubt about it--or if it puts you out, don't do it."
-
-"Divil a doubt on 'arth, my lord; but I'll tell you I was just going to
-ask your lordship's advice about laying out the same sum in another
-way, and I don't think I could raise twice that much."
-
-"Very well, Martin; if you've anything better to do with your money,
-I'm sure I'd be sorry to take it from you."
-
-"That's jist it, my lord. I don't think I can do betther--but I want
-your advice about it."
-
-"My advice whether you ought to lend me three hundred pounds or not!
-Why, Martin, you're a fool. I wouldn't ask you to lend it me, if I
-thought you oughtn't to lend it."
-
-"Oh--I'm certain sure of that, my lord; but there's an offer made me,
-that I'd like to have your lordship's mind about. It's not much to my
-liking, though; and I think it'll be betther for me to be giving you
-the money," and then Martin told his landlord the offer which had been
-made to him by Daly, on the part of Barry Lynch. "You see, my lord,"
-he concluded by saying, "it'd be a great thing to be shut of Barry
-entirely out of the counthry, and to have poor Anty's mind at ase about
-it, should she iver live to get betther; but thin, I don't like to have
-dailings with the divil, or any one so much of his colour as Barry
-Lynch."
-
-"This is a very grave matter, Martin, and takes some little time to
-think about. To tell the truth, I forgot your matrimonial speculation
-when I asked for the money. Though I want the cash, I think you should
-keep it in your power to close with Barry: no, you'd better keep the
-money by you."
-
-"After all, the ould woman could let me have it on the security of the
-house, you know, av' I did take up with the offer. So, any way, your
-lordship needn't be balked about the cash."
-
-"But is Miss Lynch so very ill, Martin?"
-
-"'Deed, and she is, Mr Frank; very bad intirely. Doctor Colligan was
-with her three times yestherday."
-
-"And does Barry take any notice of her now she's ill?"
-
-"Why, not yet he didn't; but then, we kept it from him as much as we
-could, till it got dangerous like. Mother manes to send Colligan to him
-to-day, av' he thinks she's not betther."
-
-"If she were to die, Martin, there'd be an end of it all, wouldn't
-there?"
-
-"Oh, in course there would, my lord"--and then he added, with a sigh,
-"I'd be sorry she'd die, for, somehow, I'm very fond of her, quare as
-it'll seem to you. I'd be very sorry she should die."
-
-"Of course you would, Martin; and it doesn't seem queer at all."
-
-"Oh, I wasn't thinking about the money, then, my lord; I was only
-thinking of Anty herself: you don't know what a good young woman she
-is--it's anything but herself she's thinking of always."
-
-"Did she make any will?"
-
-"Deed she didn't, my lord: nor won't, it's my mind."
-
-"Ah! but she should, after all that you and your mother've gone
-through. It'd be a thousand pities that wretch Barry got all the
-property again."
-
-"He's wilcome to it for the Kellys, av' Anty dies. But av' she lives he
-shall niver rob a penny from her. Oh, my lord! we wouldn't put sich a
-thing as a will into her head, and she so bad, for all the money the
-ould man their father iver had. But, hark! my lord--that's Gaylass, I
-know the note well, and she's as true as gould: there's the fox there,
-just inside the gorse, as the Parson said"--and away they both trotted,
-to the bottom of the plantation, from whence the cheering sound of the
-dog's voices came, sharp, sweet, and mellow.
-
-Yes; the Parson was as right as if he had been let into the fox's
-confidence overnight, and had betrayed it in the morning. Gaylass was
-hardly in the gorse before she discovered the doomed brute's vicinity,
-and told of it to the whole canine confraternity. Away from his
-hiding-place he went, towards the open country, but immediately
-returned into the covert, for he saw a lot of boys before him, who had
-assembled with the object of looking at the hunt, but with the very
-probable effect of spoiling it; for, as much as a fox hates a dog, he
-fears the human race more, and will run from an urchin with a stick
-into the jaws of his much more fatal enemy.
-
-"As long as them blackguards is there, a hollowing, and a screeching,
-divil a fox in all Ireland'd go out of this," said Mick to his master.
-
-"Ah, boys," said Frank, riding up, "if you want to see a hunt, will you
-keep back!"
-
-"Begorra we will, yer honer," said one.
-
-"Faix--we wouldn't be afther spiling your honer's divarsion, my lord,
-on no account," said another.
-
-"We'll be out o' this althogether, now this blessed minute," said a
-third, but still there they remained, each loudly endeavouring to
-banish the others.
-
-At last, however, the fox saw a fair course before him, and away he
-went; and with very little start, for the dogs followed him out of the
-covert almost with a view.
-
-And now the men settled themselves to the work, and began to strive
-for the pride of place, at least the younger portion of them: for in
-every field there are two classes of men. Those who go out to get the
-greatest possible quantity of riding, and those whose object is to get
-the least. Those who go to work their nags, and those who go to spare
-them. The former think that the excellence of the hunt depends on the
-horses; the latter, on the dogs. The former go to act, and the latter
-to see. And it is very generally the case that the least active part of
-the community know the most about the sport.
-
-They, the less active part above alluded to, know every high-road and
-bye-road; they consult the wind, and calculate that a fox won't run
-with his nose against it; they remember this stream and this bog, and
-avoid them; they are often at the top of eminences, and only descend
-when they see which way the dogs are going; they take short cuts, and
-lay themselves out for narrow lanes; they dislike galloping, and eschew
-leaping; and yet, when a hard-riding man is bringing up his two hundred
-guinea hunter, a minute or two late for the finish, covered with foam,
-trembling with his exertion, not a breath left in him--he'll probably
-find one of these steady fellows there before him, mounted on a
-broken-down screw, but as cool and as fresh as when he was brought out
-of the stable; and what is, perhaps, still more amazing, at the end of
-the day, when the hunt is canvassed after dinner, our dashing friend,
-who is in great doubt whether his thoroughbred steeplechaser will ever
-recover his day's work, and who has been personally administering warm
-mashes and bandages before he would venture to take his own boots off,
-finds he does not know half as much about the hunt, or can tell half as
-correctly where the game went, as our, quiet-going friend, whose hack
-will probably go out on the following morning under the car, with the
-mistress and children. Such a one was Parson Armstrong; and when Lord
-Ballindine and most of the others went away after the hounds, he coolly
-turned round in a different direction, crept through a broken wall into
-a peasant's garden, and over a dunghill, by the cabin door into a road,
-and then trotted along as demurely and leisurely as though he were
-going to bury an old woman in the next parish.
-
-Frank was, generally speaking, as good-natured a man as is often met,
-but even he got excited and irritable when hunting his own pack. All
-masters of hounds do. Some one was always too forward, another too near
-the dogs, a third interfering with the servants, and a fourth making
-too much noise.
-
-"Confound it, Peter," he said, when they had gone over a field or two,
-and the dogs missed the scent for a moment, "I thought at any rate you
-knew better than to cross the dogs that way."
-
-"Who crossed the dogs?" said the other--"what nonsense you're talking:
-why I wasn't out of the potato-field till they were nearly all at the
-next wall."
-
-"Well, it may be nonsense," continued Frank; "but when I see a man
-riding right through the hounds, and they hunting, I call that crossing
-them."
-
-"Hoicks! tally"--hollowed some one--"there's Graceful has it
-again--well done, Granger! Faith, Frank, that's a good dog! if he's not
-first, he's always second."
-
-"Now, gentlemen, steady, for heaven's sake. Do let the dogs settle to
-their work before you're a-top of them. Upon my soul, Nicholas Brown,
-it's ridiculous to see you!"
-
-"It'd be a good thing if he were half as much in a hurry to get to
-heaven," said Bingham Blake.
-
-"Thank'ee," said Nicholas; "go to heaven yourself. I'm well enough
-where I am."
-
-And now they were off again. In the next field the whole pack caught a
-view of the fox just as he was stealing out; and after him they went,
-with their noses well above the ground, their voices loud and clear,
-and in one bevy.
-
-Away they went: the game was strong; the scent was good; the ground was
-soft, but not too soft; and a magnificent hunt they had; but there were
-some misfortunes shortly after getting away. Barry Lynch, wishing,
-in his ignorance, to lead and show himself off, and not knowing
-how--scurrying along among the dogs, and bothered at every leap, had
-given great offence to Lord Ballindine. But, not wishing to speak
-severely to a man whom he would not under any circumstances address in
-a friendly way, he talked at him, and endeavoured to bring him to order
-by blowing up others in his hearing. But this was thrown away on Barry,
-and he continued his career in a most disgusting manner; scrambling
-through gaps together with the dogs, crossing other men without the
-slightest reserve, annoying every one, and evidently pluming himself
-on his performance. Frank's brow was getting blacker and blacker.
-Jerry Blake and young Brown were greatly amusing themselves at
-the exhibition, and every now and then gave him a word or two of
-encouragement, praising his mare, telling how well he got over that
-last fence, and bidding him mind and keep well forward. This was all
-new to Barry, and he really began to feel himself in his element;--if
-it hadn't been for those abominable walls, he would have enjoyed
-himself. But this was too good to last, and before very long he made a
-_faux pas_, which brought down on him in a torrent the bottled-up wrath
-of the viscount.
-
-They had been galloping across a large, unbroken sheep-walk, which
-exactly suited Barry's taste, and he had got well forward towards the
-hounds. Frank was behind, expostulating with Jerry Blake and the others
-for encouraging him, when the dogs came to a small stone wall about two
-feet and a half high. In this there was a broken gap, through which
-many of them crept. Barry also saw this happy escape from the grand
-difficulty of jumping, and, ignorant that if he rode the gap at all, he
-should let the hounds go first, made for it right among them, in spite
-of Frank's voice, now raised loudly to caution him. The horse the man
-rode knew his business better than himself, and tried to spare the
-dogs which were under his feet; but, in getting out, he made a slight
-spring, and came down on the haunches of a favourite young hound called
-"Goneaway"; he broke the leg close to the socket, and the poor beast
-most loudly told his complaint.
-
-This was too much to be borne, and Frank rode up red with passion; and
-a lot of others, including the whipper, soon followed.
-
-"He has killed the dog!" said he. "Did you ever see such a clumsy,
-ignorant fool? Mr Lynch, if you'd do me the honour to stay away another
-day, and amuse yourself in any other way, I should be much obliged."
-
-"It wasn't my fault then," said Barry.
-
-"Do you mean to give me the lie, sir?" replied Frank.
-
-"The dog got under the horse's feet. How was I to help it?"
-
-There was a universal titter at this, which made Barry wish himself at
-home again, with his brandy-bottle.
-
-"Ah! sir," said Frank; "you're as fit to ride a hunt as you are to do
-anything else which gentlemen usually do. May I trouble you to make
-yourself scarce? Your horse, I see, can't carry you much farther, and
-if you'll take my advice, you'll go home, before you're ridden over
-yourself. Well, Martin, is the bone broken?"
-
-Martin had got off his horse, and was kneeling down beside the poor
-hurt brute. "Indeed it is, my lord, in two places. You'd better let
-Tony kill him; he has an awful sprain in the back, as well; he'll niver
-put a foot to the ground again."
-
-"By heavens, that's too bad! isn't it Bingham? He was, out and out, the
-finest puppy we entered last year."
-
-"What can you expect," said Bingham, "when such fellows as that come
-into a field? He's as much business here as a cow in a drawing-room."
-
-"But what can we do?--one can't turn him off the land; if he chooses to
-come, he must."
-
-"Why, yes," said Bingham, "if he will come he must. But then, if he
-insists on doing so, he may be horsewhipped; he may be ridden over;
-he may be kicked; and he may be told that he's a low, vulgar, paltry
-scoundrel; and, if he repeats his visits, that's the treatment he'll
-probably receive."
-
-Barry was close to both the speakers, and of course heard, and was
-intended to hear, every word that was said. He contented himself,
-however, with muttering certain inaudible defiances, and was seen and
-heard of no more that day.
-
-The hunt was continued, and the fox was killed; but Frank and those
-with him saw but little more of it. However, as soon as directions were
-given for the death of poor Goneaway, they went on, and received a very
-satisfactory account of the proceedings from those who had seen the
-finish. As usual, the Parson was among the number, and he gave them a
-most detailed history, not only of the fox's proceedings during the
-day, but also of all the reasons which actuated the animal, in every
-different turn he took.
-
-"I declare, Armstrong," said Peter Dillon, "I think you were a fox
-yourself, once! Do you remember anything about it?"
-
-"What a run he would give!" said Jerry; "the best pack that was ever
-kennelled wouldn't have a chance with him."
-
-"Who was that old chap," said Nicholas Dillon, showing off his
-classical learning, "who said that dead animals always became something
-else?--maybe it's only in the course of nature for a dead fox to become
-a live parson."
-
-"Exactly: you've hit it," said Armstrong; "and, in the same way, the
-moment the breath is out of a goose it becomes an idle squireen [38],
-and, generally speaking, a younger brother."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 38: squireen--diminutive of squire; a minor Irish
-                   gentleman given to "putting on airs" or imitating
-                   the manners and haughtiness of men of greater
-                   wealth]
-
-"Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Nick," said Jerry; "and take care
-how you meddle with the Church again."
-
-"Who saw anything of Lambert Brown?" said another; "I left him bogged
-below there at Gurtnascreenagh, and all he could do, the old grey horse
-wouldn't move a leg to get out for him."
-
-"Oh, he's there still," said Nicholas. "He was trying to follow me, and
-I took him there on purpose. It's not deep, and he'll do no hurt: he'll
-keep as well there, as anywhere else."
-
-"Nonsense, Dillon!" said the General--"you'll make his brother really
-angry, if you go on that way. If the man's a fool, leave him in his
-folly, but don't be playing tricks on him. You'll only get yourself
-into a quarrel with the family."
-
-"And how shall we manage about the money, my lord?" said Martin, as he
-drew near the point at which he would separate from the rest, to ride
-towards Dunmore. "I've been thinking about it, and there's no doubt
-about having it for you on Friday, av that'll suit."
-
-"That brother-in-law of yours is a most unmitigated blackguard, isn't
-he, Martin?" said Frank, who was thinking more about poor Goneaway than
-the money.
-
-"He isn't no brother-in-law of mine yet, and probably niver will be,
-for I'm afeard poor Anty'll go. But av he iver is, he'll soon take
-himself out of the counthry, and be no more throuble to your lordship
-or any of us."
-
-"But to think of his riding right a-top of the poor brute, and then
-saying that the dog got under his horse's feet! Why, he's a fool as
-well as a knave. Was he ever out before?"
-
-"Well, then, I believe he was, twice this year; though I didn't see him
-myself."
-
-"Then I hope this'll be the last time: three times is quite enough for
-such a fellow as that."
-
-"I don't think he'll be apt to show again afther what you and Mr
-Bingham said to him. Well, shure, Mr Bingham was very hard on him!"
-
-"Serve him right; nothing's too bad for him."
-
-"Oh, that's thrue for you, my lord: I don't pity him one bit. But about
-the money, and this job of my own. Av it wasn't asking too much, it'd
-be a great thing av your lordship'd see Daly."
-
-It was then settled that Lord Ballindine should ride over to Dunmore
-on the following Friday, and if circumstances seemed to render it
-advisable, that he and Martin should go on together to the attorney at
-Tuam.
-
-
-
-
-XXIII.  DOCTOR COLLIGAN
-
-
-Doctor Colligan, the Galen of Dunmore, though a practitioner of most
-unprepossessing appearance and demeanour, was neither ignorant nor
-careless. Though for many years he had courted the public in vain, his
-neighbours had at last learned to know and appreciate him; and, at the
-time of Anty's illness, the inhabitants of three parishes trusted their
-corporeal ailments to his care, with comfort to themselves and profit
-to him. Nevertheless, there were many things about Doctor Colligan not
-calculated to inspire either respect or confidence. He always seemed
-a little afraid of his patient, and very much afraid of his patient's
-friends: he was always dreading the appearance at Dunmore of one of
-those young rivals, who had lately established themselves at Tuam on
-one side, and Hollymount on the other; and, to prevent so fatal a
-circumstance, was continually trying to be civil and obliging to his
-customers. He would not put on a blister, or order a black dose,
-without consulting with the lady of the house, and asking permission
-of the patient, and consequently had always an air of doubt and
-indecision. Then, he was excessively dirty in his person and practice:
-he carried a considerable territory beneath his nails; smelt equally
-strongly of the laboratory and the stable; would wipe his hands on
-the patient's sheets, and wherever he went left horrid marks of his
-whereabouts: he was very fond of good eating and much drinking, and
-would neglect the best customer that ever was sick, when tempted by the
-fascination of a game of loo. He was certainly a bad family-man; for
-though he worked hard for the support of his wife and children, he
-was little among them, paid them no attention, and felt no scruple in
-assuring Mrs C. that he had been obliged to remain up all night with
-that dreadful Mrs Jones, whose children were always so tedious; or that
-Mr Blake was so bad after his accident that he could not leave him for
-a moment; when, to tell the truth, the Doctor had passed the night with
-the cards in his hands, and a tumbler of punch beside him.
-
-He was a tall, thick-set, heavy man, with short black curly hair; was a
-little bald at the top of his head; and looked always as though he had
-shaved himself the day before yesterday, and had not washed since. His
-face was good-natured, but heavy and unintellectual. He was ignorant of
-everything but his profession, and the odds on the card-table or the
-race-course. But to give him his due, on these subjects he was not
-ignorant; and this was now so generally known that, in dangerous cases,
-Doctor Colligan had been sent for, many, many miles.
-
-This was the man who attended poor Anty in her illness, and he did
-as much for her as could be done; but it was a bad case, and Doctor
-Colligan thought it would be fatal. She had intermittent fever, and
-was occasionally delirious; but it was her great debility between the
-attacks which he considered so dangerous.
-
-On the morning after the hunt, he told Martin that he greatly feared
-she would go off, from exhaustion, in a few days, and that it would be
-wise to let Barry know the state in which his sister was. There was a
-consultation on the subject between the two and Martin's mother, in
-which it was agreed that the Doctor should go up to Dunmore House, and
-tell Barry exactly the state of affairs.
-
-"And good news it'll be for him," said Mrs Kelly; "the best he heard
-since the ould man died. Av he had his will of her, she'd niver rise
-from the bed where she's stretched. But, glory be to God, there's a
-providence over all, and maybe she'll live yet to give him the go-by."
-
-"How you talk, mother," said Martin; "and what's the use? Whatever he
-wishes won't harum her; and maybe, now she's dying, his heart'll be
-softened to her. Any way, don't let him have to say she died here,
-without his hearing a word how bad she was."
-
-"Maybe he'd be afther saying we murdhered her for her money," said the
-widow, with a shudder.
-
-"He can hardly complain of that, when he'll be getting all the money
-himself. But, however, it's much betther, all ways, that Doctor
-Colligan should see him."
-
-"You know, Mrs Kelly," said the Doctor, "as a matter of course he'll be
-asking to see his sister."
-
-"You wouldn't have him come in here to her, would you?--Faix, Doctor
-Colligan, it'll be her death out right at once av he does."
-
-"It'd not be nathural, to refuse to let him see her," said the Doctor;
-"and I don't think it would do any harm: but I'll be guided by you, Mrs
-Kelly, in what I say to him."
-
-"Besides," said Martin, "I know Anty would wish to see him: he is her
-brother; and there's only the two of 'em."
-
-"Between you be it," said the widow; "I tell you I don't like it. You
-neither of you know Barry Lynch, as well as I do; he'd smother her av
-it come into his head."
-
-"Ah, mother, nonsense now; hould your tongue; you don't know what
-you're saying."
-
-"Well; didn't he try to do as bad before?"
-
-"It wouldn't do, I tell you," continued Martin, "not to let him see
-her; that is, av Anty wishes it."
-
-It ended in the widow being sent into Anty's room, to ask her whether
-she had any message to send to her brother. The poor girl knew how ill
-she was, and expected her death; and when the widow told her that
-Doctor Colligan was going to call on her brother, she said that she
-hoped she should see Barry once more before all was over.
-
-"Mother," said Martin, as soon as the Doctor's back was turned, "you'll
-get yourself in a scrape av you go on saying such things as that about
-folk before strangers."
-
-"Is it about Barry?"
-
-"Yes; about Barry. How do you know Colligan won't be repating all them
-things to him?"
-
-"Let him, and wilcome. Shure wouldn't I say as much to Barry Lynch
-himself? What do I care for the blagguard?--only this, I wish I'd niver
-heard his name, or seen his foot over the sill of the door. I'm sorry I
-iver heard the name of the Lynches in Dunmore."
-
-"You're not regretting the throuble Anty is to you, mother?"
-
-"Regretting? I don't know what you mane by regretting. I don't know is
-it regretting to be slaving as much and more for her than I would for
-my own, and no chance of getting as much as thanks for it."
-
-"You'll be rewarded hereafther, mother; shure won't it all go for
-charity?"
-
-"I'm not so shure of that," said the widow. "It was your schaming to
-get her money brought her here, and, like a poor wake woman, as I was,
-I fell into it; and now we've all the throuble and the expinse, and the
-time lost, and afther all, Barry'll be getting everything when she's
-gone. You'll see, Martin; we'll have the wake, and the funeral, and the
-docthor and all, on us--mind my words else. Och musha, musha! what'll
-I do at all? Faix, forty pounds won't clear what this turn is like to
-come to; an' all from your dirthy undherhand schaming ways."
-
-In truth, the widow was perplexed in her inmost soul about Anty; torn
-and tortured by doubts and anxieties. Her real love of Anty and true
-charity was in state of battle with her parsimony; and then, avarice
-was strong within her; and utter, uncontrolled hatred of Barry still
-stronger. But, opposed to these was dread of some unforeseen evil--some
-tremendous law proceedings: she had a half-formed idea that she was
-doing what she had no right to do, and that she might some day be
-walked off to Galway assizes. Then again, she had an absurd pride about
-it, which often made her declare that she'd never be beat by such a
-"scum of the 'arth" as Barry Lynch, and that she'd fight it out with
-him if it cost her a hundred pounds; though no one understood what the
-battle was which she was to fight.
-
-Just before Anty's illness had become so serious, Daly called, and had
-succeeded in reconciling both Martin and the widow to himself; but he
-had not quite made them agree to his proposal. The widow, indeed, was
-much averse to it. She wouldn't deal with such a Greek as Barry, even
-in the acceptance of a boon. When she found him willing to compromise,
-she became more than ever averse to any friendly terms; but now the
-whole ground was slipping from under her feet. Anty was dying: she
-would have had her trouble for nothing; and that hated Barry would gain
-his point, and the whole of his sister's property, in triumph.
-
-Twenty times the idea of a will had come into her mind, and how
-comfortable it would be if Anty would leave her property, or at any
-rate a portion of it, to Martin. But though the thoughts of such a
-delightful arrangement kept her in a continual whirlwind of anxiety,
-she never hinted at the subject to Anty. As she said to herself, "a
-Kelly wouldn't demane herself to ask a brass penny from a Lynch." She
-didn't even speak to her daughters about it, though the continual
-twitter she was in made them aware that there was some unusual burthen
-on her mind.
-
-It was not only to the Kellys that the idea occurred that Anty in her
-illness might make a will. The thoughts of such a catastrophe had
-robbed Barry of half the pleasure which the rumours of his sister's
-dangerous position had given him. He had not received any direct
-intimation of Anty's state, but had heard through the servants that she
-was ill--very ill--dangerously--"not expected," as the country people
-call it; and each fresh rumour gave him new hopes, and new life. He
-now spurned all idea of connexion with Martin; he would trample on the
-Kellys for thinking of such a thing: he would show Daly, when in the
-plenitude of his wealth and power, how he despised the lukewarmness
-and timidity of his councils. These and other delightful visions were
-floating through his imagination; when, all of a sudden, like a blow,
-like a thunderbolt, the idea of _a will_ fell as it were upon him with
-a ton weight. His heart sunk low within him; he became white, and his
-jaw dropped. After all, there were victory and triumph, plunder and
-wealth, _his_ wealth, in the very hands of his enemies! Of course the
-Kellys would force her to make a will, if she didn't do it of her
-own accord; if not, they'd forge one. There was some comfort in that
-thought: he could at any rate contest the will, and swear that it was
-a forgery.
-
-He swallowed a dram, and went off, almost weeping to Daly.
-
-"Oh, Mr Daly, poor Anty's dying: did you hear, Mr Daly--she's all but
-gone?" Yes; Daly had been sorry to hear that Miss Lynch was very ill.
-"What shall I do," continued Barry, "if they say that she's left a
-will?"
-
-"Go and hear it read. Or, if you don't like to do that yourself, stay
-away, and let me hear it."
-
-"But they'll forge one! They'll make out what they please, and when
-she's dying, they'll make her put her name to it; or they'll only just
-put the pen in her hand, when she's not knowing what she's doing.
-They'd do anything now, Daly, to get the money they've been fighting
-for so hard."
-
-"It's my belief," answered the attorney, "that the Kellys not only
-won't do anything dishonest, but that they won't even take any unfair
-advantage of you. But at any rate you can do nothing. You must wait
-patiently; you, at any rate, can take no steps till she's dead."
-
-"But couldn't she make a will in my favour? I know she'd do it if I
-asked her--if I asked her now--now she's going off, you know. I'm sure
-she'd do it. Don't you think she would?"
-
-"You're safer, I think, to let it alone," said Daly, who could hardly
-control the ineffable disgust he felt.
-
-"I don't know that," continued Barry. "She's weak, and 'll do what
-she's asked: besides, _they'll_ make her do it. Fancy if, when she's
-gone, I find I have to share everything with those people!" And he
-struck his forehead and pushed the hair off his perspiring face, as he
-literally shook with despair. "I must see her, Daly. I'm quite sure
-she'll make a will if I beg her; they can't hinder me seeing my own,
-only, dying sister; can they, Daly? And when I'm once there, I'll sit
-with her, and watch till it's all over. I'm sure, now she's ill, I'd do
-anything for her."
-
-Daly said nothing, though Barry paused for him to reply. "Only about
-the form," continued he, "I wouldn't know what to put. By heavens,
-Daly! you must come with me. You can be up at the house, and I can
-have you down at a minute's warning." Daly utterly declined, but Barry
-continued to press him. "But you must, Daly; I tell you I know I'm
-right. I know her so well--she'll do it at once for the sake--for the
-sake of--You know she is my own sister, and all that--and she thinks so
-much of that kind of thing. I'll tell you what, Daly; upon my honour
-and soul," and he repeated the words in a most solemn tone, "if you'll
-draw the will, and she signs it, so that I come in for the whole
-thing--and I know she will I'll make over fifty--ay, seventy pounds a
-year for you for ever and ever. I will, as I live."
-
-The interview ended by the attorney turning Barry Lynch into the
-street, and assuring him that if he ever came into his office again,
-on any business whatsoever, he would unscrupulously kick him out.
-So ended, also, the connexion between the two; for Daly never got a
-farthing for his labour. Indeed, after all that had taken place, he
-thought it as well not to trouble his _ci-devant_ client with a bill.
-Barry went home, and of course got drunk.
-
-When Doctor Colligan called on Lynch, he found that he was not at home.
-He was at that very moment at Tuam, with the attorney. The doctor
-repeated his visit later in the afternoon, but Barry had still not
-returned, and he therefore left word that he would call early after
-breakfast the following morning. He did so; and, after waiting half an
-hour in the dining-room, Barry, only half awake and half dressed, and
-still half drunk, came down to him.
-
-The doctor, with a long face, delivered his message, and explained
-to him the state in which his sister was lying; assured him that
-everything in the power of medicine had been and should be done; that,
-nevertheless, he feared the chance of recovery was remote; and ended
-by informing him that Miss Lynch was aware of her danger, and had
-expressed a wish to see him before it might be too late. Could he
-make it convenient to come over just now--in half an hour--or say an
-hour?--said the doctor, looking at the red face and unfinished toilet
-of the distressed brother.
-
-Barry at first scarcely knew what reply to give. On his return from
-Tuam, he had determined that he would at any rate make his way into his
-sister's room, and, as he thought to himself, see what would come of
-it. In his after-dinner courage he had further determined, that he
-would treat the widow and her family with a very high hand, if they
-dared to make objection to his seeing his sister; but now, when the
-friendly overture came from Anty herself, and was brought by one of the
-Kelly faction, he felt himself a little confounded, as though he rather
-dreaded the interview, and would wish to put it off for a day or two.
-
-"Oh, yes--certainly, Doctor Colligan; to be sure--that is--tell me,
-doctor, is she really so bad?"
-
-"Indeed, Mr Lynch, she is very weak."
-
-"But, doctor, you don't think there is any chance--I mean, there isn't
-any danger, is there, that she'd go off at once?"
-
-"Why, no, I don't think there is; indeed, I have no doubt she will hold
-out a fortnight yet."
-
-"Then, perhaps, doctor, I'd better put it off till to-morrow; I'll tell
-you why: there's a person I wish--"
-
-"Why, Mr Lynch, to-day would be better. The fever's periodical, you
-see, and will be on her again to-morrow--"
-
-"I beg your pardon, Doctor Colligan," said Barry, of a sudden
-remembering to be civil,--"but you'll take a glass of wine?"
-
-"Not a drop, thank ye, of anything."
-
-"Oh, but you will;" and Barry rang the bell and had the wine brought.
-"And you expect she'll have another attack to-morrow?"
-
-"That's a matter of course, Mr Lynch; the fever'll come on her again
-to-morrow. Every attack leaves her weaker and weaker, and we fear
-she'll go off, before it leaves her altogether."
-
-"Poor thing!" said Barry, contemplatively.
-
-"We had her head shaved," said the doctor.
-
-"Did you, indeed!" answered Barry. "She was my favourite sister, Doctor
-Colligan--that is, I had no other."
-
-"I believe not," said Doctor Colligan, looking sympathetic.
-
-"Take another glass of wine, doctor?--now do," and he poured out
-another bumper.
-
-"Thank'ee, Mr Lynch, thank'ee; not a drop more. And you'll be over in
-an hour then? I'd better go and tell her, that she may be prepared, you
-know," and the doctor returned to the sick room of his patient.
-
-Barry remained standing in the parlour, looking at the glasses and the
-decanter, as though he were speculating on the manner in which they had
-been fabricated. "She may recover, after all," thought he to himself.
-"She's as strong as a horse--I know her better than they do. I know
-she'll recover, and then what shall I do? Stand to the offer Daly made
-to Kelly, I suppose!" And then he sat down close to the table, with his
-elbow on it, and his chin resting on his hand; and there he remained,
-full of thought. To tell the truth, Barry Lynch had never thought more
-intensely than he did during those ten minutes. At last he jumped up
-suddenly, as though surprised at what had been passing within himself;
-he looked hastily at the door and at the window, as though to see that
-he had not been watched, and then went upstairs to dress himself,
-preparatory to his visit to the inn.
-
-
-
-XXIV.  ANTY LYNCH'S BED-SIDE SCENE THE FIRST
-
-
-Anty had borne her illness with that patience and endurance which were
-so particularly inherent in her nature. She had never complained; and
-had received the untiring attentions and care of her two young friends,
-with a warmth of affection and gratitude which astonished them,
-accustomed as they had been in every little illness to give and receive
-that tender care with which sickness is treated in affectionate
-families. When ill, they felt they had a right to be petulant, and to
-complain; to exact, and to be attended to: they had been used to it
-from each other, and thought it an incidental part of the business. But
-Anty had hitherto had no one to nurse her, and she looked on Meg and
-Jane as kind ministering angels, emulous as they were to relieve her
-wants and ease her sufferings.
-
-Her thin face had become thinner, and was very pale; her head had been
-shaved close, and there was nothing between the broad white border of
-her nightcap and her clammy brow and wan cheek. But illness was more
-becoming to Anty than health; it gave her a melancholy and beautiful
-expression of resignation, which, under ordinary circumstances, was
-wanting to her features, though not to her character. Her eyes were
-brighter than they usually were, and her complexion was clear,
-colourless, and transparent. I do not mean to say that Anty in her
-illness was beautiful, but she was no longer plain; and even to the
-young Kellys, whose feelings and sympathies cannot be supposed to have
-been of the highest order, she became an object of the most intense
-interest, and the warmest affection.
-
-"Well, doctor," she said, as Doctor Colligan crept into her room, after
-the termination of his embassy to Barry; "will he come?"
-
-"Oh, of course he will; why wouldn't he, and you wishing it? He'll be
-here in an hour, Miss Lynch. He wasn't just ready to come over with
-me."
-
-"I'm glad of that," said Anty, who felt that she had to collect her
-thoughts before she saw him; and then, after a moment, she added,
-"Can't I take my medicine now, doctor?"
-
-"Just before he comes you'd better have it, I think. One of the girls
-will step up and give it you when he's below. He'll want to speak a
-word or so to Mrs Kelly before he comes up."
-
-"Spake to me, docthor!" said the widow, alarmed. "What'll he be spaking
-to me about? Faix, I had spaking enough with him last time he was
-here."
-
-"You'd better just see him, Mrs Kelly," whispered the, doctor. "You'll
-find him quiet enough, now; just take him fair and asy; keep him
-downstairs a moment, while Jane gives her the medicine. She'd better
-take it just before he goes to her, and don't let him stay long,
-whatever you do. I'll be back before the evening's over; not that I
-think that she'll want me to see her, but I'll just drop in."
-
-"Are you going, doctor?" said Anty, as he stepped up to the bed. He
-told her he was. "You've told Mrs Kelly, haven't you, that I'm to see
-Barry alone?"
-
-"Why, I didn't say so," said the doctor, looking at the widow; "but I
-suppose there'll be no harm--eh, Mrs Kelly?"
-
-"You must let me see him alone, dear Mrs Kelly!"
-
-"If Doctor Colligan thinks you ought, Anty dear, I wouldn't stay in the
-room myself for worlds."
-
-"But you won't keep him here long, Miss Lynch--eh? And you won't excite
-yourself?--indeed, you mustn't. You'll allow them fifteen minutes, Mrs
-Kelly, not more, and then you'll come up;" and with these cautions, the
-doctor withdrew.
-
-"I wish he was come and gone," said the widow to her elder daughter.
-"Well; av I'd known all what was to follow, I'd niver have got out of
-my warm bed to go and fetch Anty Lynch down here that cowld morning!
-Well, I'll be wise another time. Live and larn they say, and it's
-thrue, too."
-
-"But, mother, you ain't wishing poor Anty wasn't here?"
-
-"Indeed, but I do; everything to give and nothin to get--that's not the
-way I have managed to live. But it's not that altogether, neither. I'm
-not begrudging Anty anything for herself; but that I'd be dhriven to
-let that blagguard of a brother of hers into the house, and that as a
-frind like, is what I didn't think I'd ever have put upon me!"
-
-Barry made his appearance about an hour after the time at which they
-had begun to expect him; and as soon as Meg saw him, one of them flew
-upstairs, to tell Anty and give her her tonic. Barry had made himself
-quite a dandy to do honour to the occasion of paying probably a parting
-visit to his sister, whom he had driven out of her own house to die at
-the inn. He had on his new blue frock-coat, and a buff waistcoat with
-gilt buttons, over which his watch-chain was gracefully arranged. His
-pantaloons were strapped clown very tightly over his polished boots; a
-shining new silk hat was on one side of his head; and in his hand he
-was dangling an ebony cane. In spite, however, of all these gaudy
-trappings, he could not muster up an easy air; and, as he knocked, he
-had that look proverbially attributed to dogs who are going to be hung.
-
-Sally opened the door for him, and the widow, who had come out from the
-shop, made him a low courtesy in the passage.
-
-"Oh--ah--yes--Mrs Kelly, I believe?" said Barry.
-
-"Yes, Mr Lynch, that's my name; glory be to God!"
-
-"My sister, Miss Lynch, is still staying here, I believe?"
-
-"Why, drat it, man; wasn't Dr Colligan with you less than an hour ago,
-telling you you must come here, av you wanted to see her?"
-
-"You'll oblige me by sending up the servant to tell Miss Lynch I'm
-here."
-
-"Walk up here a minute, and I'll do that errand for you myself.--Well,"
-continued she, muttering to herself "for him to ax av she war staying
-here, as though he didn't know it! There niver was his ditto for
-desait, maneness and divilry!"
-
-A minute or two after the widow had left him, Barry found himself by
-his sister's bed-side, but never had he found himself in a position for
-which he was less fitted, or which was less easy to him. He assumed,
-however, a long and solemn face, and crawling up to the bed-side, told
-his sister, in a whining voice, that he was very glad to see her.
-
-"Sit down, Barry, sit down," said Anty, stretching out her thin pale
-hand, and taking hold of her brother's.
-
-Barry did as he was told, and sat down. "I'm so glad to see you,
-Barry," said she: "I'm so very glad to see you once more--" and then
-after a pause, "and it'll be the last time, Barry, for I'm dying."
-
-Barry told her he didn't think she was, for he didn't know when he'd
-seen her looking better.
-
-"Yes, I am, Barry: Doctor Colligan has said as much; and I should know
-it well enough myself, even if he'd never said a word. We're friends
-now, are we not?--Everything's forgiven and forgotten, isn't it,
-Barry?"
-
-Anty had still hold of her brother's hand, and seemed desirous to keep
-it. He sat on the edge of his chair, with his knees tucked in against
-the bed, the very picture of discomfort, both of body and mind.
-
-"Oh, of course it is, Anty," said he; "forgive and forget; that was
-always my motto. I'm sure I never bore any malice--indeed I never was
-so sorry as when you went away, and--"
-
-"Ah, Barry," said Anty; "it was better I went then; may-be it's all
-better as it is. When the priest has been with me and given me comfort,
-I won't fear to die. But there are other things, Barry, I want to spake
-to you about."
-
-"If there's anything I can do, I'm sure I'd do it: if there's anything
-at all you wish done.--Would you like to come up to the house again?"
-
-"Oh no, Barry, not for worlds."
-
-"Why, perhaps, just at present, you are too weak to move; only wouldn't
-it be more comfortable for you to be in your own house? These people
-here are all very well, I dare say, but they must be a great bother to
-you, eh?--so interested, you know, in everything they do."
-
-"Ah! Barry, you don't know them."
-
-Barry remembered that he would be on the wrong tack to abuse the
-Kellys. "I'm sure they're very nice people," said he; "indeed I always
-thought so, and said so--but they're not like your own flesh and blood,
-are they, Anty?--and why shouldn't you come up and be--"
-
-"No, Barry," said she; "I'll not do that; as they're so very, very kind
-as to let me stay here, I'll remain till--till God takes me to himself.
-But they're not my flesh and blood"--and she turned round and looked
-affectionately in the face of her brother--"there are only the two of
-us left now; and soon, very soon you'll be all alone." Barry felt very
-uncomfortable, and wished the interview was over: he tried to say
-something, but failed, and Anty went on--"when that time comes, will
-you remember what I say to you now?--When you're all alone, Barry; when
-there's nothing left to trouble you or put you out--will you think then
-of the last time you ever saw your sister, and--"
-
-"Oh, Anty, sure I'll be seeing you again!"
-
-"No, Barry, never again. This is the last time we shall ever meet, and
-think how much we ought to be to each other! We've neither of us father
-or mother, husband or wife.--When I'm gone you'll be alone: will you
-think of me then--and will you remember, remember every day--what I say
-to you now?"
-
-"Indeed I will, Anty. I'll do anything, everything you'd have me. Is
-there anything you'd wish me to give to any person?"
-
-"Barry," she continued, "no good ever came of my father's will."--Barry
-almost jumped off his chair as he heard his sister's words, so much did
-they startle him; but he said nothing.--"The money has done me no good,
-but the loss of it has blackened your heart, and turned your blood to
-gall against me. Yes, Barry--yes--don't speak now, let me go on;--the
-old man brought you up to look for it, and, alas, he taught you to
-look for nothing else; it has not been your fault, and I'm not blaming
-you--I'm not maning to blame you, my own brother, for you are my
-own"--and she turned round in the bed and shed tears upon his hand, and
-kissed it.--"But gold, and land, will never make you happy,--no, not
-all the gold of England, nor all the land the old kings ever had could
-make you happy, av the heart was bad within you. You'll have it all
-now, Barry, or mostly all. You'll have what you think the old man
-wronged you of; you'll have it with no one to provide for but yourself,
-with no one to trouble you, no one to thwart you. But oh, Barry, av
-it's in your heart that that can make you happy--there's nothing before
-you but misery--and death--and hell." Barry shook like a child in the
-clutches of its master--"Yes, Barry; misery and death, and all the
-tortures of the damned. It's to save you from this, my own brother,
-to try and turn your heart from that foul love of money, that your
-sister is now speaking to you from her grave.--Oh, Barry! try and
-cure it. Learn to give to others, and you'll enjoy what you have
-yourself.--Learn to love others, and then you'll know what it is to be
-loved yourself. Try, try to soften that hard heart. Marry at once,
-Barry, at once, before you're older and worse to cure; and you'll have
-children, and love them; and when you feel, as feel you must, that the
-money is clinging round your soul, fling it from you, and think of the
-last words your sister said to you."
-
-The sweat was now running down the cheeks of the wretched man, for the
-mixed rebuke and prayer of his sister had come home to him, and touched
-him; but it was neither with pity, with remorse, nor penitence. No; in
-that foul heart there was no room, even for remorse; but he trembled
-with fear as he listened to her words, and, falling on his knees, swore
-to her that he would do just as she would have him.
-
-"If I could but think," continued she, "that you would remember what I
-am saying--"
-
-"Oh, I will, Anty: I will--indeed, indeed, I will!"
-
-"If I could believe so, Barry--I'd die happy and in comfort, for I love
-you better than anything on earth;" and again she pressed his hot red
-hand--"but oh, brother! I feel for you:--you never kneel before the
-altar of God--you've no priest to move the weight of sin from your
-soul--and how heavy that must be! Do you remember, Barry; it's but
-a week or two ago and you threatened to kill me for the sake of our
-father's money? you wanted to put me in a mad-house; you tried to make
-me mad with fear and cruelty; me, your sister; and I never harmed or
-crossed you. God is now doing what you threatened; a kind, good God
-is now taking me to himself, and you will get what you so longed for
-without more sin on your conscience; but it'll never bless you, av
-you've still the same wishes in your heart, the same love of gold--the
-same hatred of a fellow-creature."
-
-"Oh, Anty!" sobbed out Barry, who was now absolutely in tears, "I was
-drunk that night; I was indeed, or I'd never have said or done what I
-did."
-
-"And how often are you so, Barry?--isn't it so with you every night?
-That's another thing; for my sake, for your own sake--for God's sake,
-give up the dhrink. It's killing you from day to day, and hour to hour.
-I see it in your eyes, and smell it in your breath, and hear it in your
-voice; it's that that makes your heart so black:--it's that that gives
-you over, body and soul, to the devil. I would not have said a word
-about that night to hurt you now; and, dear Barry, I wouldn't have said
-such words as these to you at all, but that I shall never speak to
-you again. And oh! I pray that you'll remember them. You're idle now,
-always:--don't continue so; earn your money, and it will be a blessing
-to you and to others. But in idleness, and drunkenness, and wickedness,
-it will only lead you quicker to the devil."
-
-Barry reiterated his promises; he would take the pledge; he would work
-at the farm; he would marry and have a family; he would not care the
-least for money; he would pay his debts; he would go to church, or
-chapel, if Anty liked it better; at any rate, he'd say his prayers; he
-would remember every word she had said to the last day of his life;
-he promised everything or anything, as though his future existence
-depended on his appeasing his dying sister. But during the whole time,
-his chief wish, his longing desire, was to finish the interview, and
-get out of that horrid room. He felt that he was mastered and cowed by
-the creature whom he had so despised, and he could not account for the
-feeling. Why did he not dare to answer her? She had told him he would
-have her money: she had said it would come to him as a matter of
-course; and it was not the dread of losing that which prevented his
-saying a word in his own defence. No; she had really frightened him:
-she had made him really feel that he was a low, wretched, wicked
-creature, and he longed to escape from her, that he might recover his
-composure.
-
-"I have but little more to say to you, Barry," she continued, "and that
-little is about the property. You will have it all, but a small sum of
-money--"
-
-Here Anty was interrupted by a knock at the door, and the entrance of
-the widow. She came to say that the quarter of an hour allowed by the
-doctor had been long exceeded, and that really Mr Barry ought to take
-his leave, as so much talking would be bad for Anty.
-
-This was quite a god-send for Barry, who was only anxious to be off;
-but Anty begged for a respite.
-
-"One five minutes longer, dear Mrs Kelly," said she, "and I shall have
-done; only five minutes--I'm much stronger now, and really it won't
-hurt me."
-
-"Well, then--mind, only five minutes," said the widow, and again left
-them alone.
-
-"You don't know, Barry--you can never know how good that woman has been
-to me; indeed all of them--and all for nothing. They've asked nothing
-of me, and now that they know I'm dying, I'm sure they expect nothing
-from me. She has enough; but I wish to leave something to Martin, and
-the girls;" and a slight pale blush covered her wan cheeks and forehead
-as she mentioned Martin's name. "I will leave him five hundred pounds,
-and them the same between them. It will be nothing to you, Barry, out
-of the whole; but see and pay it at once, will you?" and she looked
-kindly into his face.
-
-He promised vehemently that he would, and told her not to bother
-herself about a will: they should have the money as certainly as if
-twenty wills were made. To give Barry his due, at that moment, he meant
-to be as good as his word. Anty, however, told him that she would make
-a will; that she would send for a lawyer, and have the matter properly
-settled.
-
-"And now," she said, "dear Barry, may God Almighty bless you--may He
-guide you and preserve you; and may He, above all, take from you that
-horrid love of the world's gold and wealth. Good bye," and she raised
-herself up in her bed--"good bye, for the last time, my own dear
-brother; and try to remember what I've said to you this day. Kiss me
-before you go, Barry."
-
-Barry leaned over the bed, and kissed her, and then crept out of the
-room, and down the stairs, with the tears streaming down his red
-cheeks; and skulked across the street to his own house, with his hat
-slouched over his face, and his handkerchief held across his mouth.
-
-
-
-
-XXV.  ANTY LYNCH'S BED-SIDE SCENE THE SECOND
-
-
-Anty was a good deal exhausted by her interview with her brother, but
-towards evening she rallied a little, and told Jane, who was sitting
-with her, that she wanted to say one word in private, to Martin. Jane
-was rather surprised, for though Martin was in the habit of going into
-the room every morning to see the invalid, Anty had never before asked
-for him. However, she went for Martin, and found him.
-
-"Martin," said she; "Anty wants to see you alone, in private."
-
-"Me?" said Martin, turning a little red. "Do you know what it's about?"
-
-"She didn't say a word, only she wanted to see you alone; but I'm
-thinking it's something about her brother; he was with her a long long
-time this morning, and went away more like a dead man than a live one.
-But come, don't keep her waiting; and, whatever you do, don't stay
-long; every word she spakes is killing her."
-
-Martin followed his sister into the sick-room, and, gently taking
-Anty's offered hand, asked her in a whisper, what he could do for her.
-Jane went out; and, to do her justice sat herself down at a distance
-from the door, though she was in a painful state of curiosity as to
-what was being said within.
-
-"You're all too good to me, Martin," said Anty; "you'll spoil me,
-between you, minding every word I say so quick."
-
-Martin assured her again, in a whisper, that anything and everything
-they could do for her was only a pleasure.
-
-"Don't mind whispering," said Anty; "spake out; your voice won't hurt
-me. I love to hear your voices, they're all so kind and good. But
-Martin, I've business you must do for me, and that at once, for I feel
-within me that I'll soon be gone from this."
-
-"We hope not, Anty; but it's all with God now--isn't it? No one knows
-that betther than yourself."
-
-"Oh yes, I do know that; and I feel it is His pleasure that it should
-be so, and I don't fear to die. A few weeks back the thoughts of death,
-when they came upon me, nearly killed me; but that feeling's all gone
-now."
-
-Martin did not know what answer to make; he again told her he hoped she
-would soon get better. It is a difficult task to talk properly to a
-dying person about death, and Martin felt that he was quite incompetent
-to do so.
-
-"But," she continued, after a little, "there's still much that I want
-to do,--that I ought to do. In the first place, I must make my will."
-
-Martin was again puzzled. This was another subject on which he felt
-himself equally unwilling to speak; he could not advise her not to make
-one; and he certainly would not advise her to do so.
-
-"Your will, Anty?--there's time enough for that; you'll be sthronger
-you know, in a day or two. Doctor Colligan says so--and then we'll talk
-about it."
-
-"I hope there is time enough, Martin; but there isn't more than enough;
-it's not much that I'll have to say--"
-
-"Were you spaking to Barry about it this morning?"
-
-"Oh, I was. I told him what I'd do: he'll have the property now,
-mostly all as one as av the ould man had left it to him. It would
-have been betther so, eh Martin?" Anty never doubted her lover's
-disinterestedness; at this moment she suspected him of no dirty longing
-after her money, and she did him only justice. When he came into her
-room he had no thoughts of inheriting anything from her. Had he been
-sure that by asking he could have induced her to make a will in his
-favour, he would not have done so. But still his heart sunk a little
-within him when he heard her declare that she was going to leave
-everything back to her brother. It was, however, only for a moment; he
-remembered his honest determination firmly and resolutely to protect
-their joint property against any of her brother's attempts, should he
-ever marry her; but in no degree to strive or even hanker after it,
-unless it became his own in a fair, straightforward manner.
-
-"Well, Anty; I think you're right," said he. "But wouldn't it all go to
-Barry, nathurally, without your bothering yourself about a will, and
-you so wake."
-
-"In course it would, at laist I suppose so; but Martin," and she smiled
-faintly as she looked up into his face, "I want the two dear, dear
-girls, and I want yourself to have some little thing to remember me by;
-and your dear kind mother,--she doesn't want money, but if I ask her to
-take a few of the silver things in the house, I'm sure she'll keep them
-for my sake. Oh, Martin! I do love you all so very--so very much!" and
-the warm tears streamed down her cheeks.
-
-Martin's eyes were affected, too: he made a desperate struggle to
-repress the weakness, but he could not succeed, and was obliged to own
-it by rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his coat. "And I'm shure,
-Anty," said he, "we all love you; any one must love you who knew you."
-And then he paused: he was trying to say something of his own true
-personal regard for her, but he hardly knew how to express it. "We all
-love you as though you were one of ourselves--and so you are--it's all
-the same--at any rate it is to me."
-
-"And I would have been one of you, had I lived. I can talk to you more
-about it now, Martin, than I ever could before, because I know I feel I
-am dying."
-
-"But you mustn't talk, Anty; it wakens you, and you've had too much
-talking already this day."
-
-"It does me good, Martin, and I must say what I have to say to you. I
-mayn't be able again. Had it plazed God I should have lived, I would
-have prayed for nothing higher or betther than to be one of such a
-family as yourselves. Had I been--had I been"--and now Anty blushed
-again, and she also found a difficulty in expressing herself; but she
-soon got over it, and continued, "had I been permitted to marry you,
-Martin, I think I would have been a good wife to you. I am very, very
-sure I would have been an affectionate one."
-
-"I'm shure you would--I'm shure you would, Anty. God send you may
-still: av you war only once well again there's nothing now to hindher
-us."
-
-"You forget Barry," Anty said, with a shudder. "But it doesn't matther
-talking of that now"--Martin was on the point of telling her that Barry
-had agreed, under certain conditions, to their marriage: but, on second
-thoughts, he felt it would be useless to do so; and Anty continued,
-
-"I would have done all I could, Martin. I would have loved you fondly
-and truly. I would have liked what you liked, and, av I could, I
-would've made your home quiet and happy. Your mother should have been
-my mother, and your sisthers my sisthers."
-
-"So they are now, Anty--so they are now, my own, own Anty--they love
-you as much as though they were."
-
-"God Almighty bless them for their goodness, and you too, Martin. I
-cannot tell you, I niver could tell you, how I've valued your honest
-thrue love, for I know you have loved me honestly and thruly; but I've
-always been afraid to spake to you. I've sometimes thought you must
-despise me, I've been so wake and cowardly."
-
-"Despise you, Anty?--how could I despise you, when I've always loved
-you?"
-
-"But now, Martin, about poor Barry--for he is poor. I've sometimes
-thought, as I've been lying here the long long hours awake, that,
-feeling to you as I do, I ought to be laving you what the ould man left
-to me."
-
-"I'd be sorry you did, Anty. I'll not be saying but what I thought of
-that when I first looked for you, but it was never to take it from you,
-but to share it with you, and make you happy with it."
-
-"I know it, Martin: I always knew it and felt it."
-
-"And now, av it's God's will that you should go from us, I'd rather
-Barry had the money than us. We've enough, the Lord be praised; and I
-wouldn't for worlds it should be said that it war for that we brought
-you among us; nor for all County Galway would I lave it to Barry to
-say, that when you were here, sick, and wake, and dying, we put a pen
-into your hand to make you sign a will to rob him of what should by
-rights be his."
-
-"That's it, dear Martin; it wouldn't bless you if you had it; it can
-bless no one who looks to it alone for a blessing. It wouldn't make you
-happy--it would make you miserable, av people said you had that which
-you ought not to have. Besides, I love my poor brother; he is my
-brother, my only real relation; we've lived all our lives together;
-and though he isn't what he should be, the fault is not all his own, I
-should not sleep in my grave, av I died with his curse upon me; as I
-should, av he found, when I am gone, that I'd willed the property all
-away. I've told him he'd have it all--nearly all; and I've begged him,
-prayed to him, from my dying bed, to mend his ways; to try and be
-something betther in the world than what I fear he's like to be. I
-think he minded what I said when he was here, for death-bed words have
-a solemn sound to the most worldly; but when I'm gone he'll be all
-alone, there'll be no one to look afther him. Nobody loves him--no one
-even likes him; no one will live with him but those who mane to rob
-him; and he will be robbed, and plundered, and desaved, when he thinks
-he's robbing and desaving others." Anty paused, more for breath than
-for a reply, but Martin felt that he must say something.
-
-"Indeed, Anty, I fear he'll hardly come to good. He dhrinks too much,
-by all accounts; besides, he's idle, and the honest feeling isn't in
-him."
-
-"It's thrue, dear Martin; it's too thrue. Will you do me a great great
-favour, Martin"--and she rose up a little and turned her moist clear
-eye full upon him--"will you show your thrue love to your poor Anty,
-by a rale lasting kindness, but one that'll be giving you much much
-throuble and pain? Afther I'm dead and gone--long long after I'm in my
-cold grave, will you do that for me, Martin?".
-
-"Indeed I will, Anty," said Martin, rather astonished, but with a look
-of solemn assurance; "anything that I can do, I will: you needn't dread
-my not remembering, but I fear it isn't much that I can do for you."
-
-"Will you always think and spake of Barry--will you always act to him
-and by him, and for him, not as a man whom you know and dislike, but as
-my brother--your own Anty's only brother?--Whatever he does, will you
-thry to make him do betther? Whatever troubles he's in, will you lend
-him your hand? Come what come may to him, will you be his frind? He has
-no frind now. When I'm gone, will you be a frind to him?"
-
-Martin was much confounded. "He won't let me be his frind," he said;
-"he looks down on us and despises us; he thinks himself too high to be
-befrinded by us. Besides, of all Dunmore he hates us most."
-
-"He won't when he finds you haven't got the property from him: but
-frindship doesn't depend on letting--rale frindship doesn't. I don't
-want you to be dhrinking, and ating, and going about with him. God
-forbid!--you're too good for that. But when you find he wants a frind,
-come forward, and thry and make him do something for himself. You can't
-but come together; you'll be the executhor in the will; won't you,
-Martin? and then he'll meet you about the property; he can't help it,
-and you must meet then as frinds. And keep that up. If he insults you,
-forgive it or my sake; if he's fractious and annoying, put up with it
-for my sake; for my sake thry to make him like you, and thry to make
-others like him." Martin felt that this would be impossible, but he
-didn't say so--"No one respects him now, but all respect you. I see it
-in people's eyes and manners, without hearing what they say. Av you
-spake well of him--at any rate kindly of him, people won't turn
-themselves so against him. Will you do all this, for my sake?"
-
-Martin solemnly promised that, as far as he could, he would do so;
-that, at any rate as far as himself was concerned, he would never
-quarrel with him.
-
-"You'll have very, very much to forgive," continued Anty; "but then
-it's so sweet to forgive; and he's had no fond mother like you; he has
-not been taught any duties, any virtues, as you have. He has only been
-taught that money is the thing to love, and that he should worship
-nothing but that. Martin, for my sake, will you look on him as a
-brother?--a wicked, bad, castaway brother; but still as a brother, to
-be forgiven, and, if possible, redeemed?"
-
-"As I hope for glory in Heaven, I will," said Martin; "but I think
-he'll go far from this; I think he'll quit Dunmore."
-
-"Maybe he will; perhaps it's betther he should; but he'll lave his name
-behind him. Don't be too hard on that, and don't let others; and even
-av he does go, it'll not be long before he'll want a frind, and I don't
-know anywhere he can go that he's likely to find one. Wherever he may
-go, or whatever he may do, you won't forget he was my brother; will
-you, Martin? You won't forget he was your own Anty's only brother."
-
-Martin again gave her his solemn word that he would, to the best of his
-ability, act as a friend and brother to Barry.
-
-"And now about the will." Martin again endeavoured to dissuade her from
-thinking about a will just at present.
-
-"Ah! but my heart's set upon it," she said; "I shouldn't be happy
-unless I did it, and I'm sure you don't want to make me unhappy, now.
-You must get me some lawyer here, Martin; I'm afraid you're not lawyer
-enough for that yourself."
-
-"Indeed I'm not, Anty; it's a trade I know little about."
-
-"Well; you must get me a lawyer; not to-morrow, for I know I shan't be
-well enough; but I hope I shall next day, and you may tell him just
-what to put in it. I've no secrets from you." And she told him exactly
-what she had before told her brother. "That'll not hurt him," she
-continued; "and I'd like to think you and the dear girls should accept
-something from me."
-
-Martin then agreed to go to Daly. He was on good terms with them all
-now, since making the last offer to them respecting the property;
-besides, as Martin said, "he knew no other lawyer, and, as the will was
-so decidedly in Barry's favour, who was so proper to make it as Barry's
-own lawyer?"
-
-"Good-bye now, Martin," said Anty; "we shall be desperately scolded for
-talking so long; but it was on my mind to say it all, and I'm betther
-now it's all over."
-
-"Good night, dear Anty," said Martin, "I'll be seeing you to-morrow."
-
-"Every day, I hope, Martin, till it's all over. God bless you, God
-bless you all--and you above all. You don't know, Martin--at laist
-you didn't know all along, how well, how thruly I've loved you. Good
-night," and Martin left the room, as Barry had done, in tears. But he
-had no feeling within him of which he had cause to be ashamed. He was
-ashamed, and tried to hide his face, for he was not accustomed to be
-seen with the tears running down his cheeks; but still he had within
-him a strong sensation of gratified pride, as he reflected that he was
-the object of the warmest affection to so sweet a creature as Anty
-Lynch.
-
-"Well, Martin--what was it she wanted?" said his mother, as she met him
-at the bottom of the stairs.
-
-"I couldn't tell you now, mother," said he; "but av there was iver an
-angel on 'arth, it's Anty Lynch." And saying so, he pushed open the
-door and escaped into the street.
-
-"I wondher what she's been about now?" said the widow, speculating to
-herself--"well, av she does lave it away from Barry, who can say but
-what she has a right to do as she likes with her own?--and who's done
-the most for her, I'd like to know?"--and pleasant prospects of her
-son's enjoying an independence flitted before her mind's eye. "But
-thin," she continued, talking to herself, "I wouldn't have it said in
-Dunmore that a Kelly demaned hisself to rob a Lynch, not for twice
-all Sim Lynch ever had. Well--we'll see; but no good 'll ever come of
-meddling with them people. Jane, Jane," she called out, at the top of
-her voice, "are you niver coming down, and letting me out of this?--bad
-manners to you."
-
-Jane answered, in the same voice, from the parlour upstairs, "Shure,
-mother, ain't I getting Anty her tay?"
-
-"Drat Anty and her tay!--Well, shure, I'm railly bothered now wid them
-Lynches!--Well, glory be to God, there's an end to everything--not that
-I'm wishing her anywhere but where she is; she's welcome, for Mary
-Kelly."
-
-
-
-
-XXVI.  LOVE'S AMBASSADOR
-
-
-Two days after the hunt in which poor Goneaway was killed by Barry's
-horse, Ballindine received the following letter from his friend Dot
-Blake.
-
-
-   Limmer's Hotel, 27th March, 1844.
-
-   Dear Frank,
-
-   I and Brien, and Bottom, crossed over last Friday night, and, thanks
-   to the God of storms, were allowed to get quietly through it. The
-   young chieftain didn't like being boxed on the quay a bit too well;
-   the rattling of the chains upset him, and the fellows there are
-   so infernally noisy and awkward, that I wonder he was ever got on
-   board. It's difficult to make an Irishman handy, but it's the very
-   devil to make him quiet. There were four at his head, and three at
-   his tail, two at the wheel, turning, and one up aloft, hallooing
-   like a demon in the air; and when Master Brien showed a little
-   aversion to this comic performance, they were going to drag him into
-   the box _bon gre, mal gre_, till Bottom interposed and saved the men
-   and the horse from destroying each other.
-
-   We got safe to Middleham on Saturday night, the greatest part of the
-   way by rail. Scott has a splendid string of horses. These English
-   fellows do their work in tiptop style, only they think more of
-   spending money than they do of making it. I waited to see him out on
-   Monday, when he'd got a trot, and he was as bright as though he'd
-   never left the Curragh. Scott says he's a little too fine; but you
-   know of course he must find some fault. To give Igoe his due, he
-   could not be in better condition, and Scott was obliged to own that,
-   _considering where he came from_, he was very well. I came on here
-   on Tuesday, and have taken thirteen wherever I could get it, and
-   thought the money safe. I have got a good deal on, and won't budge
-   till I do it at six to one; and I'm sure I'll bring him to that. I
-   think he'll rise quickly, as he wants so little training, and as his
-   qualities must be at once known now he's in Scott's stables; so if
-   you mean to put any more on you had better do it at once.
-
-   So much for the stables. I left the other two at home, but have one
-   of my own string here, as maybe I'll pick up a match: and now I
-   wish to let you know a report that I heard this morning--at least
-   a secret, which bids fair to become a report. It is said that
-   Kilcullen is to marry F---- W----, and that he has already paid
-   Heaven only knows how many thousand pounds of debt with her money;
-   that the old earl has arranged it all, and that the beautiful
-   heiress has reluctantly agreed to be made a viscountess. I'm very
-   far from saying that I believe this; but it may suit you to know
-   that I heard the arrangement mentioned before two other persons, one
-   of whom was Morris;--strange enough this, as he was one of the set
-   at Handicap Lodge when you told them that the match with yourself
-   was still on. I have no doubt the plan would suit father and son;
-   you best know how far the lady may have been likely to accede. At
-   any rate, my dear Frank, if you'll take my advice, you'll not sit
-   quiet till she does marry some one. You can't expect she'll wear the
-   willow for you very long, if you do nothing yourself. Write to her
-   by post, and write to the earl by the same post, saying you have
-   done so. Tell her in the sweetest way you can, that you cannot live
-   without seeing her, and getting your _conge_ [39], if _conge_ it is
-   to be, from her own dear lips; and tell him, in as few words, as you
-   please, that you mean to do yourself the honour of knocking at his
-   door on such and such a day--and do it.
-
-        [FOOTNOTE 39: conge--(French) dismissal, notice to quit]
-
-   By the bye, Kilcullen certainly returns to Ireland immediately.
-   There's been the devil's own smash among him and the Jews. He has
-   certainly been dividing money among them; but not near enough, by
-   all accounts, to satisfy the half of them. For the sake of your
-   reputation, if not of your pocket, don't let him walk off with the
-   hundred and thirty thousand pounds. They say it's not a penny less.
-
-   Very faithfully yours,
-
-   W. BLAKE.
-
-   Shall I do anything for you here about Brien? I think I might still
-   get you eleven to one, but let me hear at once.
-
-
-As Frank read the first portion of this epistle, his affection for his
-poor dear favourite nag returned in full force, and he felt all the
-pangs of remorse for having parted with him; but when he came to the
-latter part, to Lord Kilcullen's name, and the initials by which his
-own Fanny was designated, he forgot all about horse and owner; became
-totally regardless of thirteen, eleven, and six to one, and read on
-hastily to the end; read it all again--then closed the letter, and
-put it in his pocket, and remained for a considerable time in silent
-contemplation, trying to make up his mind what he would do.
-
-Nobody was with him as he opened his post-bag, which he took from the
-messenger as the boy was coming up to the house; he therefore read his
-letter alone, on the lawn, and he continued pacing up and down before
-the house with a most perturbed air, for half an hour.
-
-Kilcullen going to marry Fanny Wyndham! So, that was the cause of Lord
-Cashel's singular behaviour--his incivility, and refusal to allow Frank
-to see his ward. "What! to have arranged it all in twenty-four hours,"
-thought Frank to himself; "to have made over his ward's money to his
-son, before her brother, from whom she inherited it, was in his grave:
-to determine at once to reject an accepted suitor for the sake of
-closing on the poor girl's money--and without the slightest regard for
-her happiness, without a thought for her welfare! And then, such lies,"
-said the viscount, aloud, striking his heel into the grass in his angry
-impetuosity; "such base, cruel lies!--to say that she had authorised
-him, when he couldn't have dared to make such a proposal to her, and
-her brother but two days dead. Well; I took him for a stiff-necked
-pompous fool, but I never thought him such an avaricious knave." And
-Fanny, too--could Fanny have agreed, so soon, to give her hand to
-another? She could not have transferred her heart. His own dear, fond
-Fanny! A short time ago they had been all in all to each other; and now
-so completely estranged as they were! However, Dot was right; up to
-this time Fanny might be quite true to him; indeed, there was not
-ground even for doubting her, for it was evident that no reliance was
-to be placed in Lord Cashel's asseverations. But still he could not
-expect that she should continue to consider herself engaged, if she
-remained totally neglected by her lover. He must do something, and that
-at once; but there was very great difficulty in deciding what that
-something was to be. It was easy enough for Dot to say, first write,
-and then go. If he were to write, what security was there that his
-letter would be allowed to reach Fanny? and, if he went, how much less
-chance was there that he would be allowed to see her. And then, again
-to be turned out of the house! again informed, by that pompous scheming
-earl, that his visits there were not desired. Or, worse still, not to
-be admitted; to be driven from the door by a footman who would well
-know for what he came! No; come what come might, he would never again
-go to Grey Abbey; at least not unless he was specially and courteously
-invited thither by the owner; and then it should only be to marry his
-ward, and take her from the odious place, never to return again.
-
-"The impudent impostor!" continued Frank to himself; "to pretend to
-suspect me, when he was himself hatching his dirty, mercenary,
-heartless schemes!"
-
-But still the same question recurred,--what was to be done? Venting his
-wrath on Lord Cashel would not get him out of the difficulty: going
-was out of the question; writing was of little use. Could he not send
-somebody else? Some one who could not be refused admittance to Fanny,
-and who might at any rate learn what her wishes and feelings were? He
-did not like making love by deputy; but still, in his present dilemma,
-he could think of nothing better. But whom was he to send? Bingham
-Blake was a man of character, and would not make a fool of himself; but
-he was too young; he would not be able to make his way to Fanny. No--a
-young unmarried man would not do.--Mat Tierney?--he was afraid of
-no one, and always cool and collected; but then, Mat was in London;
-besides, he was a sort of friend of Kilcullen's. General Bourke?
-No one could refuse an _entree_ to his venerable grey hairs, and
-polished manner; besides, his standing in the world was so good, so
-unexceptionable; but then the chances were he would not go on such
-an errand; he was too old to be asked to take such a troublesome
-service; and besides, if asked, it was very probable he would say
-that he considered Lord Cashel entitled to his ward's obedience. The
-rector--the Rev. Joseph Armstrong? He must be the man: there was, at
-any rate, respectability in his profession; and he had sufficient
-worldly tact not easily to be thrust aside from his object: the
-difficulty would be, whether he had a coat sufficiently decent to
-appear in at Grey Abbey.
-
-After mature consideration he made up his mind that the parson should
-be his ambassador. He would sooner have confided in Bingham Blake, but
-an unmarried man would not do. No; the parson must be the man. Frank
-was, unfortunately, but little disposed to act in any case without
-advice, and in his anxiety to consult some one as to consulting the
-parson, returned into the house, to make a clear breast of it to his
-mother. He found her in the breakfast-room with the two girls, and the
-three were holding council deep.
-
-"Oh, here's Frank," said Sophy; "we'd better tell him all about it at
-once--and he'll tell us which she'd like best."
-
-"We didn't mean to tell you," said Guss; "but I and Sophy are going to
-work two sofas for the drawing-room--in Berlin wool, you know: they'll
-be very handsome--everybody has them now, you know; they have a
-splendid pair at Ballyhaunis which Nora and her cousin worked."
-
-"But we want to know what pattern would suit Fanny's taste," said
-Sophy.
-
-"Well; you can't know that," said Frank rather pettishly, "so you'd
-better please yourselves."
-
-"Oh, but you must know what she likes," continued Guss; "I'm for this,"
-and she, displayed a pattern showing forth two gorgeous macaws--each
-with plumage of the brightest colours. "The colours are so bright, and
-the feathers will work in so well."
-
-"I don't like anything in worsted-work but flowers," said Sophy; "Nora
-Dillon says she saw two most beautiful wreaths at that shop in Grafton
-Street, both hanging from bars, you know; and that would be so much
-prettier. I'm sure Fanny would like flowers best; wouldn't she now,
-Frank?--Mamma thinks the common cross-bar patterns are nicer for
-furniture."
-
-"Indeed I do, my dear," said Mrs O'Kelly; "and you see them much more
-common now in well-furnished drawing-rooms. But still I'd much sooner
-have them just what Fanny would like best. Surely, Frank, you must have
-heard her speak about worsted-work?"
-
-All this completely disconcerted Frank, and made him very much out of
-love with his own plan of consulting his mother. He gave the trio some
-not very encouraging answer as to their good-natured intentions towards
-his drawing-room, and again left them alone. "Well; there's nothing for
-it but to send the parson; I don't think he'll make a fool of himself,
-but then I know he'll look so shabby. However, here goes," and he
-mounted his nag, and rode off to Ballindine glebe.
-
-The glebe-house was about a couple of miles from Kelly's Court, and it
-was about half-past four when Lord Ballindine got there. He knocked at
-the door, which was wide open, though it was yet only the last day of
-March, and was told by a remarkably slatternly maid-servant, that her
-master was "jist afther dinner;" that he was stepped out, but was about
-the place, and could be "fetched in at oncet;"--and would his honour
-walk in? And so Lord Ballindine was shown into the rectory drawing-room
-on one side of the passage (alias hall), while the attendant of all
-work went to announce his arrival in the rectory dining-room on the
-other side. Here Mrs Armstrong was sitting among her numerous progeny,
-securing the _debris_ of the dinner from their rapacious paws, and
-endeavouring to make two very unruly boys consume the portions of fat
-which had been supplied to them with, as they loudly declared, an
-unfairly insufficient quantum of lean. As the girl was good-natured
-enough to leave both doors wide open, Frank had the full advantage of
-the conversation.
-
-"Now, Greg," said the mother, "if you leave your meat that way I'll
-have it put by for you, and you shall have nothing but potatoes till
-it's ate."
-
-"Why, mother, it's nothing but tallow; look here; you gave me all the
-outside part."
-
-"I'll tell your dada, and see what he'll say, if you call the meat
-tallow; and you're just as bad, Joe; worse if anything--gracious me,
-here's waste! well, I'll lock it up for you, and you shall both of you
-eat it to-morrow, before you have a bit of anything else."
-
-Then followed a desperate fit of coughing.
-
-"My poor Minny!" said the mother, "you're just as bad as ever. Why
-would you go out on the wet grass?--Is there none of the black currant
-jam left?"
-
-"No, mother," coughed Minny, "not a bit."
-
-"Greg ate it all," peached Sarah, an elder sister; "I told him not, but
-he would."
-
-"Greg, I'll have you flogged, and you never shall come from school
-again. What's that you're saying, Mary?"
-
-"There's a jintleman in the drawing-room as is axing afther masther."
-
-"Gentleman--what gentleman?" asked the lady.
-
-"Sorrow a know I know, ma'am!" said Mary, who was a new
-importation--"only, he's a dark, sightly jintleman, as come on a
-horse."
-
-"And did you send for the master?"
-
-"I did, ma'am; I was out in the yard, and bad Patsy go look for him."
-
-"It's Nicholas Dillon, I'll bet twopence," said Greg, jumping up to
-rush into the other room: "he's come about the black colt, I know."
-
-"Stay where you are, Greg; and don't go in there with your dirty face
-and fingers;" and, after speculating a little longer, the lady went
-into the drawing-room herself; though, to tell the truth, her own face
-and fingers were hardly in a state suitable for receiving company.
-
-Mrs Armstrong marched into the drawing-room with something of a stately
-air, to meet the strange gentleman, and there she found her old friend
-Lord Ballindine. Whoever called at the rectory, and at whatever hour
-the visit might be made, poor Mrs Armstrong was sure to apologise for
-the confusion in which she was found. She had always just got rid of a
-servant, and could not get another that suited her; or there was some
-other commonplace reason for her being discovered _en deshabille_
-[40]. However, she managed to talk to Frank for a minute or two with
-tolerable volubility, till her eyes happening to dwell on her own
-hands, which were certainly not as white as a lady's should be, she
-became a little uncomfortable and embarrassed--tried to hide them in
-her drapery--then remembered that she had on her morning slippers,
-which were rather the worse for wear; and, feeling too much ashamed of
-her _tout ensemble_ to remain, hurried out of the room, saying that she
-would go and see where Armstrong could possibly have got himself to.
-She did not appear again to Lord Ballindine.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 40: en deshabille--(French) partly or scantily dressed]
-
-Poor Mrs Armstrong!--though she looked so little like one, she had
-been brought up as a lady, carefully and delicately; and her lot was
-the more miserable, for she knew how lamentable were her present
-deficiencies. When she married a poor curate, having, herself, only
-a few hundred pounds' fortune, she had made up her mind to a life of
-comparative poverty; but she had meant even in her poverty to be
-decent, respectable, and lady-like. Weak health, nine children, an
-improvident husband, and an income so lamentably ill-suited to her
-wants, had however been too much for her, and she had degenerated into
-a slatternly, idle scold.
-
-In a short time the parson came in from his farm, rusty and
-muddy--rusty, from his clerical dress; muddy from his farming
-occupations; and Lord Ballindine went into the business of his embassy.
-He remembered, however, how plainly he had heard the threats about the
-uneaten fat, and not wishing the household to hear all he had to say
-respecting Fanny Wyndham, he took the parson out into the road before
-the house, and, walking up and down, unfolded his proposal.
-
-Mr Armstrong expressed extreme surprise at the nature of the mission on
-which he was to be sent; secondly at the necessity of such a mission at
-all; and thirdly, lastly, and chiefly, at the enormous amount of the
-heiress's fortune, to lose which he declared would be an unpardonable
-sin on Lord Ballindine's part. He seemed to be not at all surprised
-that Lord Cashel should wish to secure so much money in his own family;
-nor did he at all participate in the unmeasured reprobation with which
-Frank loaded the worthy earl's name. One hundred and thirty thousand
-pounds would justify anything, and he thought of his nine poor
-children, his poor wife, his poor home, his poor two hundred a-year,
-and his poor self. He calculated that so very rich a lady would most
-probably have some interest in the Church, which she could not but
-exercise in his favour, if he were instrumental in getting her married;
-and he determined to go. Then the, difficult question as to the
-wardrobe occurred to him. Besides, he had no money for the road. Those,
-however, were minor evils to be got over, and he expressed himself
-willing to undertake the embassy.
-
-"But, my dear Ballindine; what is it I'm to do?" said he. "Of course
-you know, I'd do anything for you, as of course I ought--anything that
-ought to be done; but what is it exactly you wish me to say?"
-
-"You see, Armstrong, that pettifogging schemer told me he didn't wish
-me to come to his house again, and I wouldn't, even for Fanny Wyndham,
-force myself into any man's house. He would not let me see her when I
-was there, and I could not press it, because her brother was only just
-dead; so I'm obliged to take her refusal second hand. Now I don't
-believe she ever sent the message he gave me. I think he has made her
-believe that I'm deserting and ill-treating her; and in this way she
-may be piqued and tormented into marrying Kilcullen."
-
-"I see it now: upon my word then Lord Cashel knows how to play his
-cards! But if I go to Grey Abbey I can't see her without seeing him."
-
-"Of course not--but I'm coming to that. You see, I have no reason
-to doubt Fanny's love; she has assured me of it a thousand times. I
-wouldn't say so to you even, as it looks like boasting, only it's so
-necessary you should know how the land lies; besides, everybody knew
-it; all the world knew we were engaged."
-
-"Oh, boasting--it's no boasting at all: it would be very little good my
-going to Grey Abbey, if she had not told you so."
-
-"Well, I think that if you were to see Lord Cashel and tell him, in
-your own quiet way, who you are; that you are rector of Ballindine,
-and my especial friend; and that you had come all the way from County
-Mayo especially to see Miss Wyndham, that you might hear from herself
-whatever message she had to send to me--if you were to do this, I don't
-think he would dare to prevent you from seeing her."
-
-"If he did, of course I would put it to him that you, who were so long
-received as Miss Wyndham's accepted swain, were at least entitled to so
-much consideration at her hands; and that I must demand so much on your
-behalf, wouldn't that be it, eh?"
-
-"Exactly. I see you understand it, as if you'd been at it all your
-life; only don't call me her swain."
-
-"Well, I'll think of another word--her beau."
-
-"For Heaven's sake, no!--that's ten times worse."
-
-"Well, her lover?"
-
-"That's at any rate English: but say, her accepted husband--that'll be
-true and plain: if you do that I think you will manage to see her, and
-then--"
-
-"Well, then--for that'll be the difficult part."
-
-"Oh, when you see her, one simple word will do: Fanny Wyndham loves
-plain dealing. Merely tell her that Lord Ballindine has not changed his
-mind; and that he wishes to know from herself, by the mouth of a friend
-whom he can trust, whether she has changed hers. If she tells you that
-she has, I would not follow her farther though she were twice as rich
-as Croesus. I'm not hunting her for her money; but I am determined that
-Lord Cashel shall not make us both miserable by forcing her into a
-marriage with his _roue_ of a son."
-
-"Well, Ballindine, I'll go; but mind, you must not blame me if I fail.
-I'll do the best I can for you."
-
-"Of course I won't. When will you be able to start?"
-
-"Why, I suppose there's no immediate hurry?" said the parson,
-remembering that the new suit of clothes must be procured.
-
-"Oh, but there is. Kilcullen will be there at once; and considering how
-long it is since I saw Fanny--three months, I believe--no time should
-be lost."
-
-"How long is her brother dead?"
-
-"Oh, a month--or very near it."
-
-"Well, I'll go Monday fortnight; that'll do, won't it?"
-
-It was at last agreed that the parson was to start for Grey Abbey on
-the Monday week following; that he was to mention to no one where he
-was going; that he was to tell his wife that he was going on business
-he was not allowed to talk about;--she would be a very meek woman if
-she rested satisfied with that!--and that he was to present himself at
-Grey Abbey on the following Wednesday.
-
-"And now," said the parson, with some little hesitation, "my difficulty
-commences. We country rectors are never rich; but when we've nine
-children, Ballindine, it's rare to find us with money in our pockets.
-You must advance me a little cash for the emergencies of the road."
-
-"My dear fellow! Of course the expense must be my own. I'll send you
-down a note between this and then; I haven't enough about me now. Or,
-stay--I'll give you a cheque," and he turned into the house, and wrote
-him a cheque for twenty pounds.
-
-That'll get the coat into the bargain, thought the rector, as he
-rather uncomfortably shuffled the bit of paper into his pocket. He had
-still a gentleman's dislike to be paid for his services. But then,
-Necessity--how stern she is! He literally could not have gone without
-it.
-
-
-
-
-XXVII.  MR LYNCH'S LAST RESOURCE
-
-
-On the following morning Lord Ballindine as he had appointed to do,
-drove over to Dunmore, to settle with Martin about the money, and, if
-necessary, to go with him to the attorney's office in Tuam. Martin had
-as yet given Daly no answer respecting Barry Lynch's last proposal;
-and though poor Anty's health made it hardly necessary that any answer
-should be given, still Lord Ballindine had promised to see the
-attorney, if Martin thought it necessary.
-
-The family were all in great confusion that morning, for Anty was very
-bad--worse than she had ever been. She was in a paroxysm of fever, was
-raving in delirium, and in such a state that Martin and his sister were
-occasionally obliged to hold her in bed. Sally, the old servant, had
-been in the room for a considerable time during the morning, standing
-at the foot of the bed with a big tea-pot in her hand, and begging in a
-whining voice, from time to time, that "Miss Anty, God bless her, might
-get a dhrink of tay!" But, as she had been of no other service, and as
-the widow thought it as well that she should not hear what Anty said
-in her raving, she had been desired to go down-stairs, and was sitting
-over the fire. She had fixed the big tea-pot among the embers, and held
-a slop-bowl of tea in her lap, discoursing to Nelly, who with her hair
-somewhat more than ordinarily dishevelled, in token of grief for Anty's
-illness, was seated on a low stool, nursing a candle-stick.
-
-"Well, Nelly," said the prophetic Sally, boding evil in her anger--for,
-considering how long she had been in the family, she had thought
-herself entitled to hear Anty's ravings; "mind, I tell you, good won't
-come of this. The Virgin prothect us from all harum!--it niver war
-lucky to have sthrangers dying in the house."
-
-"But shure Miss Anty's no stranger."
-
-"Faix thin, her words must be sthrange enough when the likes o' me
-wouldn't be let hear 'em. Not but what I did hear, as how could I help
-it? There'll be no good come of it. Who's to be axed to the wake, I'd
-like to know."
-
-"Axed to the wake, is it? Why, shure, won't there be rashions of ating
-and lashings of dhrinking? The misthress isn't the woman to spare, and
-sich a frind as Miss Anty dead in the house. Let 'em ax whom they
-like."
-
-"You're a fool, Nelly--Ax whom they like!--that's asy said. Is they to
-ax Barry Lynch, or is they to let it alone, and put the sisther into
-the sod without a word said to him about it? God be betwixt us and all
-evil"--and she took a long pull at the slop-bowl; and, as the liquid
-flowed down her throat, she gradually threw back her head till the top
-of her mop cap was flattened against the side of the wide fire-place,
-and the bowl was turned bottom upwards, so that the half-melted brown
-sugar might trickle into her mouth. She then gave a long sigh, and
-repeated that difficult question--"Who is they to ax to the wake?"
-
-It was too much for Nelly to answer: she re-echoed the sigh, and more
-closely embraced the candlestick.
-
-"Besides, Nelly, who'll have the money when she's gone?--and she's nigh
-that already, the Blessed Virgin guide and prothect her. Who'll get all
-her money?"
-
-"Why; won't Mr Martin? Sure, an't they as good as man and wife--all as
-one?"
-
-"That's it; they'll be fighting and tearing, and tatthering about that
-money, the two young men will, you'll see. There'll be lawyering, an'
-magisthrate's work--an' factions--an' fighthins at fairs; an' thin, as
-in course the Lynches can't hould their own agin the Kellys, there'll
-be undherhand blows, an' blood, an' murdher!--you'll see else."
-
-"Glory be to God," involuntarily prayed Nelly, at the thoughts
-suggested by Sally's powerful eloquence.
-
-"There will, I tell ye," continued Sally, again draining the tea-pot
-into the bowl. "Sorrow a lie I'm telling you;" and then, in a low
-whisper across the fire, "didn't I see jist now Miss Anty ketch a hould
-of Misther Martin, as though she'd niver let him go agin, and bid him
-for dear mercy's sake have a care of Barry Lynch?--Shure I knowed what
-that meant. And thin, didn't he thry and do for herself with his own
-hands? Didn't Biddy say she'd swear she heard him say he'd do it?--and
-av he wouldn't boggle about his own sisther, it's little he'd mind what
-he'd do to an out an out inemy like Misther Martin."
-
-"Warn't that a knock at the hall-door, Sally?"
-
-"Run and see, girl; may-be it's the docthor back again; only mostly he
-don't mind knocking much."
-
-Nelly went to the door, and opened it to Lord Ballindine, who had left
-his gig in charge of his servant. He asked for Martin, who in a short
-time, joined him in the parlour.
-
-"This is a dangerous place for your lordship, now," said he: "the fever
-is so bad in the house. Thank God, nobody seems to have taken it yet,
-but there's no knowing."
-
-"Is she still so bad, Martin?"
-
-"Worse than iver, a dale worse; I don't think It'll last long, now:
-another bout such as this last 'll about finish it. But I won't keep
-your lordship. I've managed about the money;"--and the necessary
-writing was gone through, and the cash was handed to Lord Ballindine.
-
-"You've given over all thoughts then, about Lynch's offer--eh,
-Martin?--I suppose you've done with all that, now?"
-
-"Quite done with it, my lord; and done with fortune-hunting too. I've
-seen enough this last time back to cure me altogether--at laist, I hope
-so."
-
-"She doesn't mean to make any will, then?"
-
-"Why, she wishes to make one, but I doubt whether she'll ever be able;"
-and then Martin gave his landlord an account of all that Anty had said
-about her will, her wishes as to the property, her desire to leave
-something to him (Martin) and his sisters: and last he repeated the
-strong injunctions which Anty had given him respecting her poor
-brother, and her assurance, so full of affection, that had she lived
-she would have done her best to make him happy as her husband.
-
-Lord Ballindine was greatly affected; he warmly shook hands with
-Martin, told him how highly he thought of his conduct, and begged him
-to take care that Anty had the gratification of making her will as she
-had desired to do. "The fact," Lord Ballindine said, "of your being
-named in the will as her executor will give you more control over Barry
-than anything else could do." He then proposed at once to go, himself,
-to Tuam, and explain to Daly what it was Miss Lynch wished him to do.
-This Lord Ballindine did, and the next day the will was completed.
-
-For a week or ten days Anty remained in much the same condition.
-After each attack of fever it was expected that she would perish from
-weakness and exhaustion; but she still held on, and then the fever
-abated, and Doctor Colligan thought that it was possible she might
-recover: she was, however, so dreadfully emaciated and worn out, there
-was so little vitality left in her, that he would not encourage more
-than the faintest hope. Anty herself was too weak either to hope or
-fear;--and the women of the family, who from continual attendance knew
-how very near to death she was, would hardly allow themselves to think
-that she could recover.
-
-There were two persons, however, who from the moment of her amendment
-felt an inward sure conviction of her convalescence. They were Martin
-and Barry. To the former this feeling was of course one of unalloyed
-delight. He went over to Kelly's Court, and spoke there of his
-betrothed as though she were already sitting up and eating mutton
-chops; was congratulated by the young ladies on his approaching
-nuptials, and sauntered round the Kelly's Court shrubberies with Frank,
-talking over his future prospects; asking advice about this and that,
-and propounding the pros and cons on that difficult question, whether
-he would live at Dunmore, or build a house at Toneroe for himself and
-Anty. With Barry, however, the feeling was very different: he was again
-going to have his property wrenched from him; he was again to suffer
-the pangs he had endured, when first he learned the purport of his
-father's will; after clutching the fruit for which he had striven, as
-even he himself felt, so basely, it was again to be torn from him so
-cruelly.
-
-He had been horribly anxious for a termination to Anty's sufferings;
-horribly impatient to feel himself possessor of the whole. From day to
-day, and sometimes two or three times a day, he had seen Dr Colligan,
-and inquired how things were going on: he had especially enjoined that
-worthy man to come up after his morning call at the inn, and get a
-glass of sherry at Dunmore House; and the doctor had very generally
-done so. For some time Barry endeavoured to throw the veil of brotherly
-regard over the true source of his anxiety; but the veil was much too
-thin to hide what it hardly covered, and Barry, as he got intimate
-with the doctor, all but withdrew it altogether. When Barry would say,
-"Well, doctor, how is she to-day?" and then remark, in answer to the
-doctor's statement that she was very bad--"Well, I suppose it can't
-last much longer; but it's very tedious, isn't it, poor thing?" it
-was plain enough that the brother was not longing for the sister's
-recovery. And then he would go a little further, and remark that "if
-the poor thing was to go, it would be better for all she went at once,"
-and expressed an opinion that he was rather ill-treated by being kept
-so very long in suspense.
-
-Doctor Colligan ought to have been shocked at this; and so he was, at
-first, to a certain extent, but he was not a man of a very high tone
-of feeling. He had so often heard of heirs to estates longing for
-the death of the proprietors of them; he had so often seen relatives
-callous and indifferent at the loss of those who ought to have been
-dear to them; it seemed so natural to him that Barry should want the
-estate, that he gradually got accustomed to his impatient inquiries,
-and listened to, and answered them, without disgust. He fell too into a
-kind of intimacy with Barry; he liked his daily glass, or three or four
-glasses, of sherry; and besides, it was a good thing for him to stand
-well in a professional point of view with a man who had the best house
-in the village, and who would soon have eight hundred a-year.
-
-If Barry showed his impatience and discontent as long as the daily
-bulletins told him that Anty was still alive, though dying, it may
-easily be imagined that he did not hide his displeasure when he first
-heard that she was alive and better. His brow grew very black, his
-cheeks flushed, the drops of sweat stood on his forehead, and he said,
-speaking through his closed teeth, "D---- it, doctor, you don't mean to
-tell me she's recovering now?"
-
-"I don't say, Mr Lynch, whether she is or no; but it's certain the
-fever has left her. She's very weak, very weak indeed; I never knew a
-person to be alive and have less life in 'em; but the fever has left
-her and there certainly is hope."
-
-"Hope!" said Barry--"why, you told me she couldn't live!"
-
-"I don't say she will, Mr Lynch, but I say she may. Of course we must
-do what we can for her," and the doctor took his sherry and went his
-way.
-
-How horrible then was the state of Barry's mind! For a time he was
-absolutely stupified with despair; he stood fixed on the spot where the
-doctor had left him, realising, bringing home to himself, the tidings
-which he had heard. His sister to rise again, as though it were from
-the dead, to push him off his stool! Was he to fall again into that
-horrid low abyss in which even the Tuam attorney had scorned him; in
-which he had even invited that odious huxter's son to marry his sister
-and live in his house? What! was he again to be reduced to poverty,
-to want, to despair, by her whom he so hated? Could nothing be
-done?--Something must be done--she should not be, could not be allowed
-to leave that bed of sickness alive. "There must be an end of her,"
-he muttered through his teeth, "or she'll drive me mad!" And then
-he thought how easily he might have smothered her, as she lay there
-clasping his hand, with no one but themselves in the room; and as the
-thought crossed his brain his eyes nearly started from his head, the
-sweat ran down his face, he clutched the money in his trousers' pocket
-till the coin left an impression on his flesh, and he gnashed his teeth
-till his jaws ached with his own violence. But then, in that sick-room,
-he had been afraid of her; he could not have touched her then for the
-wealth of the Bank of England!--but now!
-
-The devil sat within him, and revelled with full dominion over his
-soul: there was then no feeling left akin to humanity to give him one
-chance of escape; there was no glimmer of pity, no shadow of remorse,
-no sparkle of love, even though of a degraded kind; no hesitation
-in the will for crime, which might yet, by God's grace, lead to
-its eschewal: all there was black, foul, and deadly, ready for the
-devil's deadliest work. Murder crouched there, ready to spring, yet
-afraid;--cowardly, but too thirsty alter blood to heed its own fears.
-Theft,--low, pilfering, pettifogging, theft; avarice, lust, and
-impotent, scalding hatred. Controlled by these the black blood rushed
-quick to and from his heart, filling him with sensual desires below the
-passions of a brute, but denying him one feeling or one appetite for
-aught that was good or even human.
-
-Again the next morning the doctor was questioned with intense anxiety;
-"Was she going?--was she drooping?--had yesterday's horrid doubts
-raised only a false alarm?" It was utterly beyond Barry's power to make
-any attempt at concealment, even of the most shallow kind. "Well,
-doctor, is she dying yet?" was the brutal question he put.
-
-"She is, if anything, rather stronger;" answered the doctor, shuddering
-involuntarily at the open expression of Barry's atrocious wish, and yet
-taking his glass of wine.
-
-"The devil she is!" muttered Barry, throwing himself into an arm-chair.
-He sat there some little time, and the doctor also sat down, said
-nothing, but continued sipping his wine.
-
-"In the name of mercy, what must I do?" said Barry, speaking more to
-himself than to the other.
-
-"Why, you've enough, Mr Lynch, without hers; you can do well enough
-without it."
-
-"Enough! Would you think you had enough if you were robbed of more than
-half of all you have. Half, indeed," he shouted--"I may say all, at
-once. I don't believe there's a man in Ireland would bear it. Nor will
-I."
-
-Again there was a silence; but still, somehow, Colligan seemed to stay
-longer than usual. Every now and then Barry would for a moment look
-full in his face, and almost instantly drop his eyes again. He was
-trying to mature future plans; bringing into shape thoughts which had
-occurred to him, in a wild way at different times; proposing to himself
-schemes, with which his brain had been long loaded, but which he had
-never resolved on,--which he had never made palpable and definite. One
-thing he found sure and certain; on one point he was able to become
-determined: he could not do it alone; he must have an assistant; he
-must buy some one's aid; and again he looked at Colligan, and again
-his eyes fell. There was no encouragement there, but there was no
-discouragement. Why did he stay there so long? Why did he so slowly sip
-that third glass of wine? Was he waiting to be asked? was he ready,
-willing, to be bought? There must be something in his thoughts--he must
-have some reason for sitting there so long, and so silent, without
-speaking a word, or taking his eyes off the fire.
-
-Barry had all but made up his mind to ask the aid he wanted; but he
-felt that he was not prepared to do so--that he should soon quiver and
-shake, that he could not then carry it through. He felt that he wanted
-spirit to undertake his own part in the business, much less to inspire
-another with the will to assist him in it. At last he rose abruptly
-from his chair, and said,
-
-"Will you dine with me to-day, Colligan?--I'm so down in the mouth, so
-deucedly hipped, it will be a charity."
-
-"Well," said Colligan, "I don't care if I do. I must go down to your
-sister in the evening, and I shall be near her here."
-
-"Yes, of course; you'll be near her here, as you say: come at six,
-then. By the bye, couldn't you go to Anty first, so that we won't be
-disturbed over our punch?"
-
-"I must see her the last thing,--about nine, but I can look up again
-afterwards, for a minute or so. I don't stay long with her now: it's
-better not."
-
-"Well, then, you'll be here at six?"
-
-"Yes, six sharp;" and at last the doctor got up and went away.
-
-It was odd that Doctor Colligan should have sat thus long; it showed
-a great want of character and of good feeling in him. He should never
-have become intimate, or even have put up with a man expressing such
-wishes as those which so often fell from Barry's lips. But he was
-entirely innocent of the thoughts which Barry attributed to him. It had
-never even occurred to him that Barry, bad as he was, would wish to
-murder his sister. No; bad, heedless, sensual as Doctor Colligan might
-be, Barry was a thousand fathoms deeper in iniquity than he.
-
-As soon as he had left the room the other uttered a long, deep sigh.
-It was a great relief to him to be alone: he could now collect his
-thoughts, mature his plans, and finally determine. He took his usual
-remedy in his difficulties, a glass of brandy; and, going out into the
-garden, walked up and down the gravel walk almost unconsciously, for
-above an hour.
-
-Yes: he would do it. He would not be a coward. The thing had been done
-a thousand times before. Hadn't he heard of it over and over again?
-Besides, Colligan's manner was an assurance to him that he would not
-boggle at such a job. But then, of course, he must be paid--and Barry
-began to calculate how much he must offer for the service; and, when
-the service should be performed, how he might avoid the fulfilment of
-his portion of the bargain.
-
-He went in and ordered the dinner; filled the spirit decanters, opened
-a couple of bottles of wine, and then walked out again. In giving his
-orders, and doing the various little things with which he had to keep
-himself employed, everybody, and everything seemed strange to him. He
-hardly knew what he was about, and felt almost as though he were in
-a dream. He had quite made up his mind as to what he would do; his
-resolution was fixed to carry it through but:--still there was the
-but,--how was he to open it to Doctor Colligan? He walked up and down
-the gravel path for a long time, thinking of this; or rather trying to
-think of it, for his thoughts would fly away to all manner of other
-subjects, and he continually found himself harping upon some trifle,
-connected with Anty, but wholly irrespective of her death; some little
-thing that she had done for him, or ought to have done; something she
-had said a long time ago, and which he had never thought of till now;
-something she had worn, and which at the time he did not even know that
-he had observed; and as often as he found his mind thus wandering, he
-would start off at a quicker pace, and again endeavour to lay out a
-line of conduct for the evening.
-
-At last, however, he came to the conclusion that it would be better to
-trust to the chapter of chances: there was one thing, or rather two
-things, he could certainly do: he could make the doctor half drunk
-before he opened on the subject, and he would take care to be in the
-same state himself. So he walked in and sat still before the fire, for
-the two long remaining hours, which intervened before the clock struck
-six.
-
-It was about noon when the doctor left him, and during those six long
-solitary hours no one feeling of remorse had entered his breast. He had
-often doubted, hesitated as to the practicability of his present plan,
-but not once had he made the faintest effort to overcome the wish to
-have the deed done. There was not one moment in which he would not most
-willingly have had his sister's blood upon his hands, upon his brain,
-upon his soul; could he have willed and accomplished her death, without
-making himself liable to the penalties of the law.
-
-At length Doctor Colligan came, and Barry made a great effort to appear
-unconcerned and in good humour.
-
-"And how is she now, doctor?" he said, as they sat down to table.
-
-"Is it Anty?--why, you know I didn't mean to see her since I was here
-this morning, till nine o'clock."
-
-"Oh, true; so you were saying. I forgot. Well, will you take a glass of
-wine?"--and Barry filled his own glass quite full.
-
-He drank his wine at dinner like a glutton, who had only a short
-time allowed him, and wished during that time to swallow as much as
-possible; and he tried to hurry his companion in the same manner. But
-the doctor didn't choose to have wine forced down his throat; he wished
-to enjoy himself, and remonstrated against Barry's violent hospitality.
-
-At last, dinner was over; the things were taken away, they both drew
-their chairs over the fire, and began the business of the evening--the
-making and consumption of punch. Barry had determined to begin upon the
-subject which lay so near his heart, at eight o'clock. He had thought
-it better to fix an exact hour, and had calculated that the whole
-matter might be completed before Colligan went over to the inn. He
-kept continually looking at his watch, and gulping down his drink, and
-thinking over and over again how he would begin the conversation.
-
-"You're very comfortable here, Lynch," said the doctor, stretching his
-long legs before the fire, and putting his dirty boots upon the fender.
-
-"Yes, indeed," said Barry, not knowing what the other was saying.
-
-"All you want's a wife, and you'd have as warm a house as there is in
-Galway. You'll be marrying soon, I suppose?"
-
-"Well, I wouldn't wonder if I did. You don't take your punch; there's
-brandy there, if you like it better than whiskey."
-
-"This is very good, thank you--couldn't be better. You haven't much
-land in your own hands, have you?"
-
-"Why, no--I don't think I have. What's that you're saying?--land?--No,
-not much: if there's a thing I hate, it's farming."
-
-"Well, upon my word you're wrong. I don't see what else a gentleman has
-to do in the country. I wish to goodness I could give up the gallipots
-[41] and farm a few acres of my own land. There's nothing I wish so
-much as to get a bit of land: indeed, I've been looking out for it, but
-it's so difficult to get."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 41: gallipots--A gallipot was a small ceramic vessel
-                   used by apothecaries to hold medicines. The term
-                   was also used colloquially to refer to apothecaries
-                   themselves and even physicians (Trollope so uses
-                   the term in later chapters).]
-
-Up to this, Barry had hardly listened to what the doctor had been
-saying; but now he was all attention. "So that is to be his price,"
-thought he to himself, "he'll cost me dear, but I suppose he must have
-it."
-
-Barry looked at his watch: it was near eight o'clock, but he seemed to
-feel that all he had drank had had no effect on him: it had not given
-him the usual pluck; it had not given him the feeling of reckless
-assurance, which he mistook for courage and capacity.
-
-"If you've a mind to be a tenant of mine, Colligan, I'll keep a look
-out for you. The land's crowded now, but there's a lot of them cottier
-[42] devils I mean to send to the right about. They do the estate no
-good, and I hate the sight of them. But you know how the property's
-placed, and while Anty's in this wretched state, of course I can do
-nothing."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 42: cottier--an Irish tenant renting land directly from
-                   the owner, with the price determined by bidding]
-
-"Will you bear it in mind though, Lynch? When a bit of land does fall
-into your hands, I should be glad to be your tenant. I'm quite in
-earnest, and should take it as a great favour."
-
-"I'll not forget it;" and then he remained silent for a minute. What an
-opportunity this was for him to lose! Colligan so evidently wished to
-be bribed--so clearly showed what the price was which was to purchase
-him. But still he could not ask the fatal question.
-
-Again he sat silent for a while, till he looked at his watch, and found
-it was a quarter past eight. "Never fear," he said, referring to the
-farm; "you shall have it, and it shall not be the worst land on the
-estate that I'll give you, you may be sure; for, upon my soul, I have a
-great regard for you; I have indeed."
-
-The doctor thanked him for his good opinion.
-
-"Oh! I'm not blarneying you; upon my soul I'm not; that's not the way
-with me at all; and when you know me better you'll say so,--and you may
-be sure you shall have the farm by Michaelmas." And then, in a voice
-which he tried to make as unconcerned as possible, he continued: "By
-the bye, Colligan, when do you think this affair of Anty's _will_ be
-over? It's the devil and all for a man not to know when he'll be his
-own master."
-
-"Oh, you mustn't calculate on your sister's property at all now," said
-the other, in an altered voice. "I tell you it's very probable she may
-recover."
-
-This again silenced Barry, and he let the time go by, till the doctor
-took up his hat, to go down to his patient.
-
-"You'll not be long, I suppose?" said Barry.
-
-"Well, it's getting late," said Colligan, "and I don't think I'll be
-coming back to-night."
-
-"Oh, but you will; indeed, you must. You promised you would, you know,
-and I want to hear how she goes on."
-
-"Well, I'll just come up, but I won't stay, for I promised Mrs Colligan
-to be home early." This was always the doctor's excuse when he wished
-to get away. He never allowed his domestic promises to draw him home
-when there was anything to induce him to stay abroad; but, to tell the
-truth, he was getting rather sick of his companion. The doctor took his
-hat, and went to his patient.
-
-"He'll not be above ten minutes or at any rate a quarter of an hour,"
-thought Barry, "and then I must do it. How he sucked it all in about
-the farm!--that's the trap, certainly." And he stood leaning with
-his back against the mantel-piece, and his coat-laps hanging over
-his arm, waiting for and yet fearing, the moment of the doctor's
-return. It seemed an age since he went. Barry looked at his
-watch almost every minute; it was twenty minutes past nine,
-five-and-twenty--thirty--forty--three quarters of an hour--"By Heaven!"
-said he, "the man is not coming! he is going to desert me--and I shall
-be ruined! Why the deuce didn't I speak out when the man was here!"
-
-At last his ear caught the sound of the doctor's heavy foot on the
-gravel outside the door, and immediately afterwards the door bell was
-rung. Barry hastily poured out a glass of raw spirits and swallowed it;
-he then threw himself into his chair, and Doctor Colligan again entered
-the room.
-
-"What a time you've been, Colligan! Why I thought you weren't coming
-all night. Now, Terry, some hot water, and mind you look sharp about
-it. Well, how's Anty to-night?"
-
-"Weak, very weak; but mending, I think. The disease won't kill her now;
-the only thing is whether the cure will."
-
-"Well, doctor, you can't expect me to be very anxious about it:
-unfortunately, we had never any reason to be proud of Anty, and it
-would be humbug in me to pretend that I wish she should recover, to rob
-me of what you know I've every right to consider my own." Terry brought
-the hot water in, and left the room.
-
-"Well, I can't say you do appear very anxious about it. I'll just
-swallow one dandy of punch, and then I'll get home. I'm later now than
-I meant to be."
-
-"Nonsense, man. The idea of your being in a hurry, when everybody knows
-that a doctor can never tell how long he may be kept in a sick-room!
-But come now, tell the truth; put yourself in my condition, and do you
-mean to say you'd be very anxious that Anty should recover?--Would
-you like your own sister to rise from her death-bed to rob you of
-everything you have? For, by Heaven! it is robbery--nothing less. She's
-so stiff-necked, that there's no making any arrangement with her. I've
-tried everything, fair means and foul, and nothing'll do but she must
-go and marry that low young Kelly--so immeasurably beneath her, you
-know, and of course only scheming for her money. Put yourself in my
-place, I say; and tell me fairly what your own wishes would be?"
-
-"I was always fond of my brothers and sisters," answered the doctor;
-"and we couldn't well rob each other, for none of us had a penny to
-lose."
-
-"That's a different thing, but just supposing you were exactly in my
-shoes at this moment, do you mean to tell me that you'd be glad she
-should get well?--that you'd be glad she should be able to deprive you
-of your property, disgrace your family, drive you from your own home,
-and make your life miserable for ever after?"
-
-"Upon my soul I can't say; but good night now, you're getting excited,
-and I've finished my drop of punch."
-
-"Ah! nonsense, man, sit down. I've something in earnest I want to say
-to you," and Barry got up and prevented the doctor from leaving the
-room. Colligan had gone so far as to put on his hat and great coat, and
-now sat down again without taking them off.
-
-"You and I, Colligan, are men of the world, and too wide awake for all
-the old woman's nonsense people talk. What can I, or what could you in
-my place, care for a half-cracked old maid like Anty, who's better dead
-than alive, for her own sake and everybody's else; unless it is some
-scheming ruffian like young Kelly there, who wants to make money by
-her?"
-
-"I'm not asking you to care for her; only, if those are your ideas,
-it's as well not to talk about them for appearance sake."
-
-"Appearance sake! There's nothing makes me so sick, as for two men like
-you and me, who know what's what, to be talking about appearance sake,
-like two confounded parsons, whose business it is to humbug everybody,
-and themselves into the bargain. I'll tell you what: had my father--bad
-luck to him for an old rogue--not made such a will as he did, I'd 've
-treated Anty as well as any parson of 'em all would treat an old maid
-of a sister; but I'm not going to have her put over my head this way.
-Come, doctor, confound all humbug. I say it openly to you--to please
-me, Anty must never come out of that bed alive."
-
-"As if your wishes could make any difference. If it is to be so, she'll
-die, poor creature, without your saying so much about it; but may-be,
-and it's very likely too, she'll be alive and strong, after the two of
-us are under the sod."
-
-"Well; if it must be so, it must; but what I wanted to say to you is
-this: while you were away, I was thinking about what you said of the
-farm--of being a tenant of mine, you know."
-
-"We can talk about that another time," said the doctor, who began to
-feel an excessive wish to be out of the house.
-
-"There's no time like the present, when I've got it in my mind; and, if
-you'll wait, I can settle it all for you to-night. I was telling you
-that I hate farming, and so I do. There are thirty or five-and-thirty
-acres of land about the house, and lying round to the back of the town;
-you shall take them off my hands, and welcome."
-
-This was too good an offer to be resisted, and Colligan said he would
-take the land, with many thanks, if the rent any way suited him.
-
-"We'll not quarrel about that, you may be sure, Colligan," continued
-Barry; "and as I said fifty acres at first--it was fifty acres I think
-you were saying you wished for--I'll not baulk you, and go back from my
-own word."
-
-"What you have yourself, round the house, 'll be enough; only I'm
-thinking the rent 'll be too high."
-
-"It shall not; it shall be low enough; and, as I was saying, you shall
-have the remainder, at the same price, immediately after Michaelmas, as
-soon as ever those devils are ejected."
-
-"Well;" said Colligan, who was now really interested, "what's the
-figure?"
-
-Barry had been looking steadfastly at the fire during the whole
-conversation, up to this: playing with the poker, and knocking the
-coals about. He was longing to look into the other's face, but he did
-not dare. Now, however, was his time; it was now or never: he took one
-furtive glance at the doctor, and saw that he was really anxious on the
-subject--that his attention was fixed.
-
-"The figure," said he; "the figure should not trouble you if you had no
-one but me to deal, with. But there'll be Anty, confound her, putting
-her fist into this and every other plan of mine!"
-
-"I'd better deal with the agent, I'm thinking," said Colligan; "so,
-good night."
-
-"You'll find you'd a deal better be dealing with me: you'll never find
-an easier fellow to deal with, or one who'll put a better thing in your
-way."
-
-Colligan again sat down. He couldn't quite make Barry out: he suspected
-he was planning some iniquity, but he couldn't tell what; and he
-remained silent, looking full into the other's face till he should go
-on. Barry winced under the look, and hesitated; but at last he screwed
-himself up to the point, and said,
-
-"One word, between two friends, is as good as a thousand. If Anty
-dies of this bout, you shall have the fifty acres, with a lease for
-perpetuity, at sixpence an acre. Come, that's not a high figure, I
-think."
-
-"What?" said Colligan, apparently not understanding him, "a lease for
-perpetuity at how much an acre?"
-
-"Sixpence--a penny--a pepper-corn--just anything you please. But it's
-all on Anty's dying. While she's alive I can do nothing for the best
-friend I have."
-
-"By the Almighty above us," said the doctor, almost in a whisper, "I
-believe the wretched man means me to murder her--his own sister!"
-
-"Murder?--Who talked or said a word of murder?" said Barry, with a
-hoarse and croaking voice--"isn't she dying as she is?--and isn't she
-better dead than alive? It's only just not taking so much trouble to
-keep the life in her; you're so exceeding clever you know!"--and he
-made a ghastly attempt at smiling. "With any other doctor she'd have
-been dead long since: leave her to herself a little, and the farm's
-your own; and I'm sure there'll 've been nothing at all like murder
-between us."
-
-"By Heavens, he does!"--and Colligan rose quickly from his seat "he
-means to have her murdered, and thinks to make me do the deed! Why, you
-vile, thieving, murdering reptile!" and as he spoke the doctor seized
-him by the throat, and shook him violently in his strong grasp--"who
-told you I was a fit person for such a plan? who told you to come to
-me for such a deed? who told you I would sell my soul for your paltry
-land?"--and he continued grasping Barry's throat till he was black in
-the face, and nearly choked. "Merciful Heaven! that I should have sat
-here, and listened to such a scheme! Take care of yourself," said he;
-and he threw him violently backwards over the chairs--"if you're to be
-found in Connaught to-morrow, or in Ireland the next day, I'll hang
-you!"--and so saying, he hurried out of the room, and went home.
-
-"Well," thought he, on his road: "I have heard of such men as that
-before, and I believe that when I was young I read of such: but I never
-expected to meet so black a villain! What had I better do?--If I go and
-swear an information before a magistrate there'll be nothing but my
-word and his. Besides, he said nothing that the law could take hold of.
-And yet I oughtn't to let it pass: at any rate I'll sleep on it." And
-so he did; but it was not for a long time, for the recollection of
-Barry's hideous proposal kept him awake.
-
-Barry lay sprawling among the chairs till the sound of the hall door
-closing told him that his guest had gone, when he slowly picked himself
-up, and sat down upon the sofa. Colligan's last words were ringing
-in his ear--"If you're found in Ireland the next day, I'll hang
-you."--Hang him!--and had he really given any one the power to speak to
-him in such language as that? After all, what had he said?--He had not
-even whispered a word of murder; he had only made an offer of what he
-would do if Anty should die: besides, no one but themselves had heard
-even that; and then his thoughts went off to another train. "Who'd have
-thought," he said to himself, "the man was such a fool! He meant it, at
-first, as well as I did myself. I'm sure he did. He'd never have caught
-as he did about the farm else, only he got afraid--the confounded fool!
-As for hanging, I'll let him know; it's just as easy for me to tell
-a story, I suppose, as it is for him." And then Barry, too, dragged
-himself up to bed, and cursed himself to sleep. His waking thoughts,
-however, were miserable enough.
-
-
-
-
-XXVIII.  FANNY WYNDHAM REBELS
-
-
-We will now return to Grey Abbey, Lord Cashel, and that unhappy
-love-sick heiress, his ward, Fanny Wyndham. Affairs there had taken
-no turn to give increased comfort either to the earl or to his niece,
-during the month which succeeded the news of young Harry Wyndham's
-death.
-
-The former still adhered, with fixed pertinacity of purpose, to the
-matrimonial arrangement which he had made with his son. Circumstances,
-indeed, rendered it even much more necessary in the earl's eyes than it
-had appeared to be when he first contemplated this scheme for releasing
-himself from his son's pecuniary difficulties. He had, as the reader
-will remember, advanced a very large sum of money to Lord Kilcullen,
-to be repaid out of Fanny Wyndham's fortune, This money Lord Kilcullen
-had certainly appropriated in the manner intended by his father, but
-it had anything but the effect of quieting the creditors. The payments
-were sufficiently large to make the whole hungry crew hear that his
-lordship was paying his debts, but not at all sufficient to satisfy
-their craving. Indeed, nearly the whole went in liquidation of turf
-engagements, and gambling debts. The Jews, money-lenders, and tradesmen
-merely heard that money was going from Lord Kilcullen's pocket; but
-with all their exertions they got very little of it themselves.
-
-Consequently, claims of all kinds--bills, duns, remonstrances and
-threats, poured in not only upon the son but also upon the father. The
-latter, it is true, was not in his own person liable for one penny of
-them, nor could he well, on his own score, be said to be an embarrassed
-man; but he was not the less uneasy. He had determined if possible to
-extricate his son once more, and as a preliminary step had himself
-already raised a large sum of money which it would much trouble him to
-pay; and he moreover, as he frequently said to Lord Kilcullen, would
-not and could not pay another penny for the same purpose, until he saw
-a tolerably sure prospect of being repaid out of his ward's fortune.
-
-He was therefore painfully anxious on the subject; anxious not only
-that the matter should be arranged, but that it should be done at once.
-It was plain that Lord Kilcullen could not remain in London, for he
-would be arrested; the same thing would happen at Grey Abbey, if he
-were to remain there long without settling his affairs; and if he were
-once to escape his creditors by going abroad, there would be no such
-thing as getting him back again. Lord Cashel saw no good reason why
-there should be any delay; Harry Wyndham was dead above a month, and
-Fanny was evidently grieving more for the loss of her lover than that
-of her brother; she naturally felt alone in the world--and, as Lord
-Cashel thought, one young viscount would be just as good as another.
-The advantages, too, were much in favour of his son; he would one day
-be an earl, and possess Grey Abbey. So great an accession of grandeur,
-dignity, and rank could not but be, as the earl considered, very
-delightful to a sensible girl like his ward. The marriage, of course,
-needn't be much hurried; four or five months' time would do for that;
-he was only anxious that they should be engaged--that Lord Kilcullen
-should be absolutely accepted--Lord Ballindine finally rejected.
-
-The earl certainly felt some scruples of conscience at the sacrifice
-he was making of his ward, and stronger still respecting his ward's
-fortune; but he appeased them with the reflection that if his son were
-a gambler, a _roue_, and a scamp, Lord Ballindine was probably just as
-bad; and that if the latter were to spend all Fanny's money there would
-be no chance of redemption; whereas he could at any rate settle on his
-wife a jointure, which would be a full compensation for the loss of her
-fortune, should she outlive her husband and father-in-law. Besides, he
-looked on Lord Kilcullen's faults as a father is generally inclined to
-look on those of a son, whom he had not entirely given up--whom he is
-still striving to redeem. He called his iniquitous vices, follies--his
-licentiousness, love of pleasure--his unprincipled expenditure and
-extravagance, a want of the knowledge of what money was: and his worst
-sin of all, because the one least likely to be abandoned, his positive,
-unyielding damning selfishness, he called "fashion"--the fashion of the
-young men of the day.
-
-Poor Lord Cashel! he wished to be honest to his ward; and yet to save
-his son, and his own pocket at the same time, at her expense: he
-wished to be, in his own estimation, high-minded, honourable, and
-disinterested, and yet he could not resist the temptation to be
-generous to his own flesh and blood at the expense of another. The
-contest within him made him miserable; but the devil and mammon were
-too strong for him, particularly coming as they did, half hidden
-beneath the gloss of parental affection. There was little of the Roman
-about the earl, and he could not condemn his own son; so he fumed and
-fretted, and twisted himself about in the easy chair in his dingy
-book-room, and passed long hours in trying to persuade himself that it
-was for Fanny's advantage that he was going to make her Lady Kilcullen.
-
-He might have saved himself all his anxiety. Fanny Wyndham had much
-too strong a mind--much too marked a character of her own, to be made
-Lady Anything by Lord Anybody. Lord Cashel might possibly prevent her
-from marrying Frank, especially as she had been weak enough, through
-ill-founded pique and anger, to lend him her name for dismissing him;
-but neither he nor anyone else could make her accept one man, while she
-loved another, and while that other was unmarried.
-
-Since the interview between Fanny and her uncle and aunt, which has
-been recorded, she had been nearly as uncomfortable as Lord Cashel, and
-she had, to a certain extent, made the whole household as much so as
-herself. Not that there was anything of the kill-joy character in
-Fanny's composition; but that the natural disposition of Grey Abbey
-and all belonging to it was to be dull, solemn, slow, and respectable.
-Fanny alone had ever given any life to the place, or made the house
-tolerable; and her secession to the ranks of the sombre crew was
-therefore the more remarked. If Fanny moped, all Grey Abbey might
-figuratively be said to hang down its head. Lady Cashel was, in every
-sense of the words, continually wrapped up in wools and worsteds. The
-earl was always equally ponderous, and the specific gravity of Lady
-Selina could not be calculated. It was beyond the power of figures,
-even in algebraic denominations, to describe her moral weight.
-
-And now Fanny did mope, and Grey Abbey was triste [43] indeed.
-Griffiths in my lady's boudoir rolled and unrolled those huge white
-bundles of mysterious fleecy hosiery with more than usually slow and
-unbroken perseverance. My lady herself bewailed the fermentation among
-the jam-pots with a voice that did more than whine, it was almost
-funereal. As my lord went from breakfast-room to book-room, from
-book-room to dressing-room, and from dressing-room to dining-room, his
-footsteps creaked with a sound more deadly than that of a death-watch.
-The book-room itself had caught a darker gloom; the backs of the books
-seemed to have lost their gilding, and the mahogany furniture its
-French polish. There, like a god, Lord Cashel sate alone, throned amid
-clouds of awful dulness, ruling the world of nothingness around by the
-silent solemnity of his inertia.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 43: triste--(French) sad, mournful, dull, dreary]
-
-Lady Selina was always useful, but with a solid, slow activity, a
-dignified intensity of heavy perseverance, which made her perhaps more
-intolerable than her father. She was like some old coaches which we
-remember--very sure, very respectable; but so tedious, so monotonous,
-so heavy in their motion, that a man with a spark of mercury in his
-composition would prefer any danger from a faster vehicle to their
-horrid, weary, murderous, slow security. Lady Selina from day to day
-performed her duties in a most uncompromising manner; she knew what was
-due to her position, and from it, and exacted and performed accordingly
-with a stiff, steady propriety which made her an awful if not a hateful
-creature. One of her daily duties, and one for the performance of which
-she had unfortunately ample opportunity, was the consolation of Fanny
-under her troubles. Poor Fanny! how great an aggravation was this
-to her other miseries! For a considerable time Lady Selma had known
-nothing of the true cause of Fanny's gloom; for though the two cousins
-were good friends, as far as Lady Selina was capable of admitting so
-human a frailty as friendship, still Fanny could not bring herself to
-make a confidante of her. Her kind, stupid, unpretending old aunt was a
-much better person to talk to, even though she did arch her eyebrows,
-and shake her head when Lord Ballindine's name was mentioned, and
-assure her niece that though she had always liked him herself, he
-could not be good for much, because Lord Kilcullen had said so. But
-Fanny could not well dissemble; she was tormented by Lady Selina's
-condolements, and recommendations of Gibbon, her encomiums on industry,
-and anathemas against idleness; she was so often reminded that weeping
-would not bring back her brother, nor inactive reflection make his fate
-less certain, that at last she made her monitor understand that it was
-about Lord Ballindine's fate that she was anxious, and that it was his
-coming back which might be effected by weeping--or other measures.
-
-Lady Selina was shocked by such feminine, girlish weakness, such want
-of dignity and character, such forgetfulness, as she said to Fanny, of
-what was due to her own position. Lady Selina was herself unmarried,
-and not likely to marry; and why had she maintained her virgin state,
-and foregone the blessings of love and matrimony? Because, as she often
-said to herself, and occasionally said to Fanny, she would not step
-down from the lofty pedestal on which it had pleased fortune and birth
-to place her.
-
-She learned, however, by degrees, to forgive, though she couldn't
-approve, Fanny's weakness; she remembered that it was a very different
-thing to be an earl's niece and an earl's daughter, and that the same
-conduct could not be expected from Fanny Wyndham and Lady Selina Grey.
-
-The two were sitting together, in one of the Grey Abbey drawing-rooms,
-about the middle of April. Fanny had that morning again been talking
-to her guardian on the subject nearest to her heart, and had nearly
-distracted him by begging him to take steps to make Frank understand
-that a renewal of his visits at Grey Abbey would not be ill received.
-Lord Cashel at first tried to frighten her out of her project by
-silence, frowns, and looks: but not finding himself successful, he
-commenced a long oration, in which he broke down, or rather, which he
-had to cut up into sundry short speeches; in which he endeavoured to
-make it appear that Lord Ballindine's expulsion had originated with
-Fanny herself, and that, banished or not banished, the less Fanny had
-to do with him the better. His ward, however, declared, in rather a
-tempestuous manner, that if she could not see him at Grey Abbey she
-would see him elsewhere; and his lordship was obliged to capitulate
-by promising that if Frank were unmarried in twelve months' time,
-and Fanny should then still be of the same mind, he would consent to
-the match and use his influence to bring it about. This by no means
-satisfied Fanny, but it was all that the earl would say, and she
-had now to consider whether she would accept those terms or act for
-herself. Had she had any idea what steps she could with propriety take
-in opposition to the earl, she would have withdrawn herself and her
-fortune from his house and hands, without any scruples of conscience.
-But what was she to do? She couldn't write to her lover and ask him to
-come back to her!--Whither could she go? She couldn't well set up house
-for herself.
-
-Lady Selina was bending over her writing-desk, and penning most
-decorous notes, with a precision of calligraphy which it was painful
-to witness. She was writing orders to Dublin tradesmen, and each order
-might have been printed in the Complete Letter-Writer, as a specimen of
-the manner in which young ladies should address such correspondents.
-Fanny had a volume of French poetry in her hand, but had it been Greek
-prose it would have given her equal occupation and amusement. It had
-been in her hands half-an-hour, and she had not read a line.
-
-"Fanny," said Lady Selina, raising up her thin red spiral tresses from
-her desk, and speaking in a firm, decided tone, as if well assured of
-the importance of the question she was going to put; "don't you want
-some things from Ellis's?"
-
-"From where, Selina?" said Fanny, slightly starting.
-
-"From Ellis's," repeated Lady Selina.
-
-"Oh, the man in Grafton Street.--No, thank you." And Fanny returned to
-her thoughts.
-
-"Surely you do, Fanny," said her ladyship. "I'm sure you want black
-crape; you were saying so on Friday last."
-
-"Was I?--Yes; I think I do. It'll do another time, Selina; never mind
-now."
-
-"You had better have it in the parcel he will send to-morrow; if you'll
-give me the pattern and tell me how much you want, I'll write for it."
-
-"Thank you, Selina. You're very kind, but I won't mind it to-day."
-
-"How very foolish of you, Fanny; you know you want it, and then you'll
-be annoyed about it. You'd better let me order it with the other
-things."
-
-"Very well, dear: order it then for me."
-
-"How much will you want? you must send the pattern too, you know."
-
-"Indeed, Selina, I don't care about having it at all; I can do very
-well without it, so don't mind troubling yourself."
-
-"How very ridiculous, Fanny! You know you want black crape--and you
-must get it from Ellis's." Lady Selina paused for a reply, and then
-added, in a voice of sorrowful rebuke, "It's to save yourself the
-trouble of sending Jane for the pattern."
-
-"Well, Selina, perhaps it is. Don't bother me about it now, there's a
-dear. I'll be more myself by-and-by; but indeed, indeed, I'm neither
-well nor happy now."
-
-"Not well, Fanny! What ails you?"
-
-"Oh, nothing ails me; that is, nothing in the doctor's way. I didn't
-mean I was ill."
-
-"You said you weren't well; and people usually mean by that, that they
-are ill."
-
-"But I didn't mean it," said Fanny, becoming almost irritated, "I only
-meant--" and she paused and did not finish her sentence.
-
-Lady Selina wiped her pen, in her scarlet embroidered pen-wiper, closed
-the lid of her patent inkstand, folded a piece of blotting-paper over
-the note she was writing, pushed back the ruddy ringlets from her
-contemplative forehead, gave a slight sigh, and turned herself
-towards her cousin, with the purpose of commencing a vigorous lecture
-and cross-examination, by which she hoped to exorcise the spirit
-of lamentation from Fanny's breast, and restore her to a healthful
-activity in the performance of this world's duties. Fanny felt what was
-coming; she could not fly; so she closed her book and her eyes, and
-prepared herself for endurance.
-
-"Fanny," said Lady Selina, in a voice which was intended to be both
-severe and sorrowful, "you are giving way to very foolish feelings in
-a very foolish way; you are preparing great unhappiness for yourself,
-and allowing your mind to waste itself in uncontrolled sorrow in a
-manner--in a manner which cannot but be ruinously injurious. My dear
-Fanny, why don't you do something?--why don't you occupy yourself?
-You've given up your work; you've given up your music; you've given up
-everything in the shape of reading; how long, Fanny, will you go on in
-this sad manner?" Lady Selina paused, but, as Fanny did not immediately
-reply, she continued her speech "I've begged you to go on with your
-reading, because nothing but mental employment will restore your mind
-to its proper tone. I'm sure I've brought you the second volume of
-Gibbon twenty times, but I don't believe you've read a chapter this
-month back. How long will you allow yourself to go on in this sad
-manner?"
-
-"Not long, Selina. As you say, I'm sad enough."
-
-"But is it becoming in you, Fanny, to grieve in this way for a man whom
-you yourself rejected because he was unworthy of you?"
-
-"Selina, I've told you before that such was not the case. I believe him
-to be perfectly worthy of me, and of any one much my superior too."
-
-"But you did reject him, Fanny: you bade papa tell him to discontinue
-his visits--didn't you?"
-
-Fanny felt that her cousin was taking an unfair advantage in throwing
-thus in her teeth her own momentary folly in having been partly
-persuaded, partly piqued, into quarrelling with her lover; and she
-resented it as such. "If I did," she said, somewhat angrily, "it does
-not make my grief any lighter, to know that I brought it on myself."
-
-"No, Fanny; but it should show you that the loss for which you grieve
-is past recovery. Sorrow, for which there is no cure, should cease to
-be grieved for, at any rate openly. If Lord Ballindine were to die you
-would not allow his death to doom you to perpetual sighs, and perpetual
-inactivity. No; you'd then know that grief was hopeless, and you'd
-recover."
-
-"But Lord Ballindine is not dead," said Fanny.
-
-"Ah! that's just the point," continued her ladyship; "he should be dead
-to you; to you he should now be just the same as though he were in his
-grave. You loved him some time since, and accepted him; but you found
-your love misplaced,--unreturned, or at any rate coldly returned.
-Though you loved him, you passed a deliberate judgment on him, and
-wisely rejected him. Having done so, his name should not be on your
-lips; his form and figure should be forgotten. No thoughts of him
-should sully your mind, no love for him should be permitted to rest in
-your heart; it should be rooted out, whatever the exertion may cost
-you."
-
-"Selina, I believe you have no heart yourself."
-
-"Perhaps as much as yourself, Fanny. I've heard of some people who were
-said to be all heart; I flatter myself I am not one of them. I trust I
-have some mind, to regulate my heart; and some conscience, to prevent
-my sacrificing my duties for the sake of my heart."
-
-"If you knew," said Fanny, "the meaning of what love was, you'd know
-that it cannot be given up in a moment, as you suppose; rooted out,
-as you choose to call it. But, to tell you the truth, Selina, I don't
-choose to root it out. I gave my word to Frank not twelve months since,
-and that with the consent of every one belonging to me. I owned that
-I loved him, and solemnly assured him I would always do so. I cannot,
-and I ought not, and I will not break my word. You would think of
-nothing but what you call your own dignity; I will not give up my own
-happiness, and, I firmly believe his, too, for anything so empty."
-
-"Don't be angry with me, Fanny," said Lady Selina; "my regard for your
-dignity arises only from my affection for you. I should be sorry to see
-you lessen yourself in the eyes of those around you. You must remember
-that you cannot act as another girl might, whose position was less
-exalted. Miss O'Joscelyn might cry for her lost lover till she got him
-back again, or got another; and no one would be the wiser, and she
-would not be the worse; but you cannot do that. Rank and station are
-in themselves benefits; but they require more rigid conduct, much more
-control over the feelings than is necessary in a humbler position. You
-should always remember, Fanny, that much is expected from those to whom
-much is given."
-
-"And I'm to be miserable all my life because I'm not a parson's
-daughter, like Miss O'Joscelyn!"
-
-"God forbid, Fanny! If you'd employ your time, engage your mind, and
-cease to think of Lord Ballindine, you'd soon cease to be miserable.
-Yes; though you might never again feel the happiness of loving, you
-might still be far from miserable."
-
-"But I can't cease to think of him, Selina;--I won't even try."
-
-"Then, Fanny, I truly pity you."
-
-"No, Selina; it's I that pity you," said Fanny, roused to energy as
-different thoughts crowded to her mind. "You, who think more of your
-position as an earl's daughter--an aristocrat, than of your nature
-as a woman! Thank Heaven, I'm not a queen, to be driven to have other
-feelings than those of my sex. I do love Lord Ballindine, and if I had
-the power to cease to do so this moment, I'd sooner drown myself than
-exercise it."
-
-"Then why were you weak enough to reject him?"
-
-"Because I was a weak, wretched, foolish girl. I said it in a moment of
-passion, and my uncle acted on it at once, without giving me one minute
-for reflection--without allowing me one short hour to look into my own
-heart, and find how I was deceiving myself in thinking that I ought to
-part from him. I told Lord Cashel in the morning that I would give him
-up; and before I had time to think of what I had said, he had been
-here, and had been turned out of the house. Oh, Selina! it was very,
-very cruel in your father to take me at my word so shortly!" And Fanny
-hid her face in her handkerchief, and burst into tears.
-
-"That's unfair, Fanny; it couldn't be cruel in him to do for you that
-which he would have done for his own daughter. He thought, and thinks,
-that Lord Ballindine would not make you happy."
-
-"Why should he think so?--he'd no business to think so," sobbed Fanny
-through her tears.
-
-"Who could have a business to think for you, if not your guardian?"
-
-"Why didn't he think so then, before he encouraged me to receive him?
-It was because Frank wouldn't do just what he was bid; it was because
-he wouldn't become stiff, and solemn, and grave like--like--" Fanny was
-going to make a comparison that would not have been flattering either
-to Lady Selina or to her father, but she did not quite forget herself,
-and stopped short without expressing the likeness. "Had he spoken
-against him at first, I would have obeyed; but I will not destroy
-myself now for his prejudices." And Fanny buried her face among the
-pillows of the sofa, and sobbed aloud.
-
-Lady Selina walked over to the sofa, and stood at the head of it
-bending over her cousin. She wished to say something to soothe and
-comfort her, but did not know how; there was nothing soothing or
-comforting in her nature, nothing soft in her voice; her manner was
-repulsive, and almost unfeeling; and yet she was not unfeeling. She
-loved Fanny as warmly as she was capable of loving; she would have made
-almost any personal sacrifice to save her cousin from grief; she would,
-were it possible, have borne her sorrows herself; but she could not
-unbend; she could not sit down by Fanny's side, and, taking her hand,
-say soft and soothing things; she could not make her grief easier by
-expressing hope for the future or consolation for the past. She would
-have felt that she was compromising truth by giving hope, and dignity
-by uttering consolation for the loss of that which she considered
-better lost than retained. Lady Selina's only recipe was endurance and
-occupation. And at any rate, she practised what she preached; she was
-never idle, and she never complained.
-
-As she saw Fanny's grief, and heard her sobs, she at first thought that
-in mercy she should now give up the subject of the conversation; but
-then she reflected that such mercy might be the greatest cruelty, and
-that the truest kindness would be to prove to Fanny the hopelessness of
-her passion.
-
-"But, Fanny," she said, when the other's tears were a little subsided,
-"it's no use either saying or thinking impossibilities. What are you to
-do? You surely will not willingly continue to indulge a hopeless
-passion?"
-
-"Selina, you'll drive me mad, if you go on! Let me have my own way."
-
-"But, Fanny, if your own way's a bad way? Surely you won't refuse
-to listen to reason? You must know that what I say is only from my
-affection. I want you to look before you; I want you to summon courage
-to look forward; and then I'm sure your common sense will tell you that
-Lord Ballindine can never be anything to you."
-
-"Look here, Selina," and Fanny rose, and wiped her eyes, and somewhat
-composed her ruffled hair, which she shook back from her face and
-forehead, as she endeavoured to repress the palpitation which had
-followed her tears; "I have looked forward, and I have determined what
-I mean to do. It was your father who brought me to this, by forcing
-me into a childish quarrel with the man I love. I have implored him,
-almost on my knees, to invite Lord Ballindine again to Grey Abbey: he
-has refused to do so, at any rate for twelve months--"
-
-"And has he consented to ask him at the end of twelve months?" asked
-Selina, much astonished, and, to tell the truth, considerably shocked
-at this instance of what she considered her father's weakness.
-
-"He might as well have said twelve years," replied Fanny. "How can I,
-how can any one, suppose that he should remain single for my sake for
-twelve months, after being repelled without a cause, or without a word
-of explanation; without even seeing me;--turned out of the house, and
-insulted in every way? No; whatever he might do, I will not wait twelve
-months. I'll ask Lord Cashel once again, and then--" Fanny paused for a
-moment, to consider in what words she would finish her declaration.
-
-"Well, Fanny," said Selina, waiting with eager expectation for Fanny's
-final declaration; for she expected to hear her say that she would
-drown herself, or lock herself up for ever, or do something equally
-absurd.
-
-"Then," continued Fanny,--and a deep blush covered her face as she
-spoke, "I will write to Lord Ballindine, and tell him that I am still
-his own if he chooses to take me."
-
-"Oh, Fanny! do not say such a horrid thing. Write to a man, and beg him
-to accept you? No, Fanny; I know you too well, at any rate, to believe
-that you'll do that."
-
-"Indeed, indeed, I will."
-
-"Then you'll disgrace yourself for ever. Oh, Fanny! though my heart
-were breaking, though I knew I were dying for very love, I'd sooner
-have it break, I'd sooner die at once, than disgrace my sex by becoming
-a suppliant to a man."
-
-"Disgrace, Selina!--and am I not now disgraced? Have I not given him my
-solemn word? Have I not pledged myself to him as his wife? Have I not
-sworn to him a hundred times that my heart was all his own? Have I not
-suffered those caresses which would have been disgraceful had I not
-looked on myself as almost already his bride? And is it no disgrace,
-after that, to break my word?--to throw him aside like a glove that
-wouldn't fit?--to treat him as a servant that wouldn't suit me?--to
-send him a contemptuous message to be gone?--and so, to forget him,
-that I might lay myself out for the addresses and admiration of
-another? Could any conduct be worse than that?--any disgrace deeper?
-Oh, Selina! I shudder as I think of it. Could I ever bring my lips to
-own affection for another, without being overwhelmed with shame and
-disgrace? And then, that the world should say that I had accepted, and
-rejoiced in his love when I was poor, and rejected it with scorn when I
-was rich! No; I would sooner--ten thousand times sooner my uncle should
-do it for me! but if he will not write to Frank, I will. And though my
-hand will shake, and my face will be flushed as I do so, I shall never
-think that I have disgraced myself."
-
-"And if, Fanny--if, after that he refuses you?"
-
-Fanny was still standing, and she remained so for a moment or two,
-meditating her reply, and then she answered:--
-
-"Should he do so, then I have the alternative which you say you would
-prefer; then I will endeavour to look forward to a broken heart, and
-death, without a complaint and without tears. Then, Selina," and
-she tried to smile through the tears which were again running down
-her cheeks, "I'll come to you, and endeavour to borrow your stoic
-endurance, and patient industry;" and, as she said so, she walked to
-the door and escaped, before Lady Selina had time to reply.
-
-
-
-
-XXIX.  THE COUNTESS OF CASHEL IN TROUBLE
-
-
-After considerable negotiation between the father and the son, the time
-was fixed for Lord Kilcullen's arrival at Grey Abbey. The earl tried
-much to accelerate it, and the viscount was equally anxious to stave
-off the evil day; but at last it was arranged that, on the 3rd of
-April, he was to make his appearance, and that he should commence his
-wooing as soon as possible after that day.
-
-When this was absolutely fixed, Lord Cashel paid a visit to his
-countess, in her boudoir, to inform her of the circumstance, and
-prepare her for the expected guest. He did not, however, say a word of
-the purport of his son's visit. He had, at one time, thought of telling
-the old lady all about it, and bespeaking her influence with Fanny for
-the furtherance of his plan; but, on reconsideration, he reflected that
-his wife was not the person to be trusted with any intrigue. So he
-merely told her that Lord Kilcullen would be at Grey Abbey in five
-days; that he would probably remain at home a long time; that, as he
-was giving up his London vices and extravagances, and going to reside
-at Grey Abbey, he wished that the house should be made as pleasant for
-him as possible; that a set of friends, relatives, and acquaintances
-should be asked to come and stay there; and, in short, that Lord
-Kilcullen, having been a truly prodigal son, should have a fatted calf
-prepared for his arrival.
-
-All this flurried and rejoiced, terrified and excited my lady
-exceedingly. In the first place it was so truly delightful that her
-son should turn good and proper, and careful and decorous, just at
-the right time of life; so exactly the thing that ought to happen. Of
-course young noblemen were extravagant, and wicked, and lascivious,
-habitual breakers of the commandments, and self-idolators; it was their
-nature. In Lady Cashel's thoughts on the education of young men, these
-evils were ranked with the measles and hooping cough; it was well that
-they should be gone through and be done with early in life. She had
-a kind of hazy idea that an opera-dancer and a gambling club were
-indispensable in fitting a young aristocrat for his future career;
-and I doubt whether she would not have agreed to the expediency
-of inoculating a son of hers with these ailments in a mild
-degree--vaccinating him as it were with dissipation, in order that he
-might not catch the disease late in life in a violent and fatal form.
-She had not therefore made herself unhappy about her son for a few
-years after his first entrance on a life in London, but latterly she
-had begun to be a little uneasy. Tidings of the great amount of his
-debts reached even her ears; and, moreover, it was nearly time that he
-should reform and settle down. During the last twelve months she had
-remarked fully twelve times, to Griffiths, that she wondered when
-Kilcullen would marry?--and she had even twice asked her husband,
-whether he didn't think that such a circumstance would be advantageous.
-She was therefore much rejoiced to hear that her son was coming to live
-at home. But then, why was it so sudden? It was quite proper that the
-house should be made a little gay for his reception; that he shouldn't
-be expected to spend his evenings with no other society than that of
-his father and mother, his sister and his cousin; but how was she
-to get the house ready for the people, and the people ready for the
-house, at so very short a notice?--What trouble, also, it would be
-to her!--Neither she nor Griffiths would know another moment's rest;
-besides--and the thought nearly drove her into hysterics,--where was
-she to get a new cook?
-
-However, she promised her husband to do her best. She received from
-him a list of people to be invited, and, merely stipulating that she
-shouldn't be required to ask any one except the parson of the parish
-under a week, undertook to make the place as bearable as possible to
-so fastidious and distinguished a person as her own son.
-
-Her first confidante was, of course, Griffiths; and, with her
-assistance, the wool and the worsted, and the knitting-needles, the
-unfinished vallances and interminable yards of fringe, were put up and
-rolled out of the way; and it was then agreed that a council should be
-held, to which her ladyship proposed to invite Lady Selina and Fanny.
-Griffiths, however, advanced an opinion that the latter was at present
-too lack-a-daisical to be of any use in such a matter, and strengthened
-her argument by asserting that Miss Wyndham had of late been quite
-mumchance [44]. Lady Cashel was at first rather inclined to insist
-on her niece being called to the council, but Griffiths's eloquence
-was too strong, and her judgment too undoubted; so Fanny was left
-undisturbed, and Lady Selina alone summoned to join the aged female
-senators of Grey Abbey.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 44: mumchance--silent and idle]
-
-"Selina," said her ladyship, as soon as her daughter was seated on
-the sofa opposite to her mother's easy chair, while Griffiths, having
-shut the door, had, according to custom, sat herself down on her own
-soft-bottomed chair, on the further side of the little table that
-always stood at the countess's right hand. "Selina, what do you think
-your father tells me?"
-
-Lady Selina couldn't think, and declined guessing; for, as she
-remarked, guessing was a loss of time, and she never guessed right.
-
-"Adolphus is coming home on Tuesday."
-
-"Adolphus! why it's not a month since he was here."
-
-"And he's not coming only for a visit; he's coming to stay here; from
-what your father says, I suppose he'll stay here the greater part of
-the summer."
-
-"What, stay at Grey Abbey all May and June?" said Lady Selina,
-evidently discrediting so unlikely a story, and thinking it all but
-impossible that her brother should immure himself at Grey Abbey during
-the London season.
-
-"It's true, my lady," said Griffiths, oracularly; as if her word were
-necessary to place the countess's statement beyond doubt.
-
-"Yes," continued Lady Cashel; "and he has given up all his
-establishment in London--his horses, and clubs, and the opera, and all
-that. He'll go into Parliament, I dare say, now, for the county; at any
-rate he's coming to live at home here for the summer."
-
-"And has he sold all his horses?" asked Lady Selina.
-
-"If he's not done it, he's doing it," said the countess. "I declare
-I'm delighted with him; it shows such proper feeling. I always knew he
-would; I was sure that when the time came for doing it, Adolphus would
-not forget what was due to himself and to his family."
-
-"If what you say is true, mamma, he's going to be married."
-
-"That's just what I was thinking, my lady," said Griffiths. "When her
-ladyship first told me all about it,--how his lordship was coming down
-to live regular and decorous among his own people, and that he was
-turning his back upon his pleasures and iniquities, thinks I to myself
-there'll be wedding favours coming soon to Grey Abbey."
-
-"If it is so, Selina, your father didn't say anything to me about it,"
-said the countess, somewhat additionally flustered by the importance of
-the last suggestion; "and if he'd even guessed such a thing, I'm sure
-he'd have mentioned it."
-
-"It mightn't be quite fixed, you know, mamma: but if Adolphus is doing
-as you say, you may be sure he's either engaged, or thinking of
-becoming so."
-
-"Well, my dear, I'm sure I wish it may be so; only I own I'd like to
-know, because it makes a difference, as to the people he'd like to
-meet, you know. I'm sure nothing would delight me so much as to
-receive Adolphus's wife. Of course she'd always be welcome to lie in
-here--indeed it'd be the fittest place. But we should be dreadfully put
-about, eh, Griffiths?"
-
-"Why, we should, my lady; but, to my mind, this would be the only most
-proper place for my lord's heir to be born in. If the mother and child
-couldn't have the best of minding here, where could they?"
-
-"Of course, Griffiths; and we wouldn't mind the trouble, on such an
-occasion. I think the south room would be the best, because of the
-dressing-room being such a good size, and neither of the fireplaces
-smoking, you know."
-
-"Well, I don't doubt but it would, my lady; only the blue room is
-nearer to your ladyship here, and in course your ladyship would choose
-to be in and out."
-
-And visions of caudle cups, cradles, and monthly nurses, floated over
-Lady Cashel's brain, and gave her a kind of dreamy feel that the world
-was going to begin again with her.
-
-"But, mamma, is Adolphus really to be here on Tuesday?" said Lady
-Selina, recalling the two old women from their attendance on the
-unborn, to the necessities of the present generation.
-
-"Indeed he is, my dear, and that's what I sent for you for. Your papa
-wishes to have a good deal of company here to meet your brother; and
-indeed it's only reasonable, for of course this place would be very
-dull for him, if there was nobody here but ourselves--and he's always
-used to see so many people; but the worst is, it's all to be done at
-once, and you know there'll be so much to be got through before we'll
-be ready for a house full of company,--things to be got from Dublin,
-and the people to be asked. And then, Selina," and her ladyship almost
-wept as the latter came to her great final difficulty--"What are we to
-do about a cook?--Richards'll never do; Griffiths says she won't even
-do for ourselves, as it is."
-
-"Indeed she won't, my lady; it was only impudence in her coming to such
-a place at all.--She'd never be able to send a dinner up for eighteen
-or twenty."
-
-"What are we to do, Griffiths? What can have become of all the
-cooks?--I'm sure there used to be cooks enough when I was first
-married."
-
-"Well, my lady, I think they must be all gone to England, those that
-are any good; but I don't know what's come to the servants altogether;
-as your ladyship says, they're quite altered for the worse since we
-were young."
-
-"But, mamma," said Lady Selina, "you're not going to ask people here
-just immediately, are you?"
-
-"Directly, my dear; your papa wishes it done at once. We're to have
-a dinner-party this day week--that'll be Thursday; and we'll get as
-many of the people as we can to stay afterwards; and we'll get the
-O'Joscelyns to come on Wednesday, just to make the table look not quite
-so bare, and I want you to write the notes at once. There'll be a great
-many things to be got from Dublin too."
-
-"It's very soon after poor Harry Wyndham's death, to be receiving
-company," said Lady Selina, solemnly. "Really, mamma, I don't think it
-will be treating Fanny well to be asking all these people so soon. The
-O'Joscelyns, or the Fitzgeralds, are all very well--just our own near
-neighbours; but don't you think, mamma, it's rather too soon to be
-asking a house-full of strange people?"
-
-"Well, my love, I was thinking so, and I mentioned it to your father;
-but he said that poor Harry had been dead a month now--and that's true,
-you know--and that people don't think so much now about those kind of
-things as they used to; and that's true too, I believe."
-
-"Indeed you may say that, my lady," interposed Griffiths. "I remember
-when bombazines used to be worn three full months for an uncle or
-cousin, and now they're hardly ever worn at all for the like, except
-in cases where the brother or sister of him or her as is dead may be
-stopping in the house, and then only for a month: and they were always
-worn the full six months for a brother or sister, and sometimes the
-twelve months round. Your aunt, Lady Charlotte, my lady, wore hers the
-full twelve months, when your uncle, Lord Frederick, was shot by Sir
-Patrick O'Donnel; and now they very seldom, never, I may say, wear them
-the six months!--Indeed, I think mourning is going out altogether; and
-I'm very sorry for it, for it's a very decent, proper sort of thing; at
-least, such was always my humble opinion, my lady."
-
-"Well; but what I was saying is," continued the countess, "that what
-would be thought strange a few years ago, isn't thought at all so now;
-and though I'm sure, Selina, I wouldn't like to do anything that looked
-unkind to Fanny, I really don't see how we can help it, as your father
-makes such a point of it."
-
-"I can't say I think it's right, mamma, for I don't. But if you and
-papa do, of course I've nothing further to say."
-
-"Well, my love, I don't know that I do exactly think it's right; and
-I'm sure it's not my wish to be having people, especially when I don't
-know where on earth to turn for a cook. But what can we do, my dear?
-Adolphus wouldn't stay the third night here, I'm sure, if there was
-nobody to amuse him; and you wouldn't have him turned out of the house,
-would you?"
-
-"_I_ have him turned out, mamma? God forbid! I'd sooner he should be
-here than anywhere, for here he must be out of harm's way; but still I
-think that if he comes to a house of mourning, he might, for a short
-time, submit to put up with its decent tranquillity."
-
-"Selina," said the mother, pettishly, "I really thought you'd help
-me when I've so much to trouble and vex me--and not make any fresh
-difficulties. How can I help it?--If your father says the people are
-to come, I can't say I won't let them in. I hope you won't make Fanny
-think I'm doing it from disrespect to her. I'm sure I wouldn't have a
-soul here for a twelvemonth, on my own account."
-
-"I'm sure Miss Wyndham won't think any such thing, my lady," said
-Griffiths; "will she, Lady Selina?--Indeed, I don't think she'll matter
-it one pin."
-
-"Indeed, Selina, I don't think she will," said the countess; and then
-she half whispered to her daughter. "Poor Fanny! it's not about her
-brother she's grieving; it's that horrid man, Ballindine. She sent
-him away, and now she wants to have him back. I really think a little
-company will be the best thing to bring her to herself again." There
-was a little degree of humbug in this whisper, for her ladyship meant
-her daughter to understand that she wouldn't speak aloud about Fanny's
-love-affair before Griffiths; and yet she had spent many a half hour
-talking to her factotum on that very subject. Indeed, what subject was
-there of any interest to Lady Cashel on which she did not talk to
-Griffiths!
-
-"Well, mamma," said Lady Selina, dutifully, "I'll not say another word
-about it; only let me know what you want me to do, and I'll do it. Who
-is it you mean to ask?"
-
-"Why, first of all, there's the Fitzgeralds: your father thinks that
-Lord and Lady George would come for a week or so, and you know the
-girls have been long talking of coming to Grey Abbey--these two years I
-believe, and more."
-
-"The girls will come, I dare say, mamma; though I don't exactly think
-they're the sort of people who will amuse Adolphus; but I don't think
-Lord George or Lady George will sleep away from home. We can ask them,
-however; Mountains is only five miles from here, and I'm sure they'll
-go back after dinner."
-
-"Well, my dear, if they will, they must, and I can't help it; only I
-must say it'll be very ill-natured of them. I'm sure it's a long time
-since they were asked to stay here."
-
-"As you say, mamma, at any rate we can ask them. And who comes next?"
-
-"Why your father has put down the Swinburn people next; though I'm sure
-I don't know how they are to come so far."
-
-"Why, mamma, the colonel is a martyr to the gout!"
-
-"Yes, my lady," said Griffiths, "and Mrs. Ellison is worse again, with
-rheumatics. There would be nothing to do, the whole time, but nurse the
-two of them."
-
-"Never mind, Griffiths; you'll not have to nurse them, so you needn't
-be so ill-natured."
-
-"Me, ill-natured, my lady? I'm sure I begs pardon, but I didn't mean
-nothing ill-natured; besides, Mrs. Ellison was always a very nice lady
-to me, and I'm sure I'd be happy to nurse her, if she wanted it; only
-that, as in duty bound, I've your ladyship to look to first, and so
-couldn't spare time very well for nursing any one."
-
-"Of course you couldn't, Griffiths; but, Selina, at any rate you must
-ask the Ellisons: your papa thinks a great deal about the colonel--he
-has so much influence in the county, and Adolphus will very likely
-stand, now. Your papa and the colonel were members together for the
-county more than forty years since."
-
-"Well, mamma, I'll write Mrs. Ellison. Shall I say for a week or ten
-days?"
-
-"Say for ten days or a fortnight, and then perhaps they'll stay a
-week. Then there's the Bishop of Maryborough, and Mrs. Moore. I'm sure
-Adolphus will be glad to meet the bishop, for it was he that christened
-him."
-
-"Very well, mamma, I'll write to Mrs. Moore. I suppose the bishop is in
-Dublin at present?"
-
-"Yes, my dear, I believe so. There can't be anything to prevent their
-coming."
-
-"Only that he's the managing man on the Education Board, and he's
-giving up his time very much to that at present. I dare say he'll come,
-but he won't stay long."
-
-"Well, Selina, if he won't, I can't help it; and I'm sure, now I think
-about the cook, I don't see how we're to expect anybody to stay. What
-am I to do, Griffiths, about that horrid woman?"
-
-"I'll tell you what I was thinking, my lady; only I don't know whether
-your ladyship would like it, either, and if you didn't you could easily
-get rid of him when all these people are gone."
-
-"Get rid of who?"
-
-"I was going to say, my lady--if your ladyship would consent to have a
-man cook for a time, just to try."
-
-"Then I never will, Griffiths: there'd be no peace in the house with
-him!"
-
-"Well, your ladyship knows best, in course; only if you thought well
-of trying it, of course you needn't keep the man; and I know there's
-Murray in Dublin, that was cook so many years to old Lord Galway. I
-know he's to be heard of at the hotel in Grafton Street."
-
-"I can't bear the thoughts of a man cook, Griffiths: I'd sooner have
-three women cooks, and I'm sure one's enough to plague anybody."
-
-"But none's worse, my lady," said Griffiths.
-
-"You needn't tell me that. I wonder, Selina, if I were to write to my
-sister, whether she could send me over anything that would answer?"
-
-"What, from London, my lady?" answered Griffiths--"You'd find a London
-woman cook sent over in that way twice worse than any man: she'd be
-all airs and graces. If your ladyship thought well of thinking about
-Murray, Richards would do very well under him: she's a decent poor
-creature, poor woman--only she certainly is not a cook that'd suit for
-such a house as this; and it was only impudence her thinking to attempt
-it."
-
-"But, mamma," said Lady Selina, "do let me know to whom I am to write,
-and then you and Griffiths can settle about the cook afterwards; the
-time is so very short that I ought not to lose a post."
-
-The poor countess threw herself back in her easy chair, the picture of
-despair. Oh, how much preferable were rolls of worsted and yards of
-netting, to the toils and turmoil of preparing for, and entertaining
-company! She was already nearly overcome by the former: she didn't dare
-to look forward to the miseries of the latter. She already began to
-feel the ill effects of her son's reformation, and to wish that it had
-been postponed just for a month or two, till she was a little more
-settled.
-
-"Well, mamma," said Lady Selina, as undisturbed and calm as ever, and
-as resolved to do her duty without flinching, "shall we go on?"
-
-The countess groaned and sighed--"There's the list there, Selina, which
-your father put down in pencil. You know the people as well as I do:
-just ask them all--"
-
-"But, mamma, I'm not to ask them all to stay here:--I suppose some are
-only to come to dinner?--the O'Joscelyns, and the Parchments?"
-
-"Ask the O'Joscelyns for Wednesday and Thursday: the girls might
-as well stay and sleep here. But what's the good of writing to
-them?--can't you drive over to the Parsonage and settle it all
-there?--you do nothing but make difficulties, Selina, and my head's
-racking."
-
-Lady Selina sate silent for a short time, conning the list, and
-endeavouring to see her way through the labyrinth of difficulties
-which was before her, without further trouble to her mother; while the
-countess leaned back, with her eyes closed, and her hands placed on the
-arms of her chair, as though she were endeavouring to get some repose,
-after the labour she had gone through. Her daughter, however, again
-disturbed her.
-
-"Mamma," she said, trying by the solemnity of her tone to impress her
-mother with the absolute necessity she was under of again appealing to
-her upon the subject, "what _are_ we to do about young men?"
-
-"About young men, my dear?"
-
-"Yes, mamma: there'll be a house-full of young ladies--there's the
-Fitzgeralds--and Lady Louisa Pratt--and Miss Ellison--and the three
-O'Joscelyns--and not a single young man, except Mr O'Joscelyn's
-curate!"
-
-"Well, my dear, I'm sure Mr. Hill's a very nice young man."
-
-"So he is, mamma; a very good young man; but he won't do to amuse such
-a quantity of girls. If there were only one or two he'd do very well;
-besides, I'm sure Adolphus won't like it."
-
-"Why; won't he talk to the young ladies?--I'm sure he was always fond
-of ladies' society."
-
-"I tell you, mamma, it won't do. There'll be the bishop and two other
-clergymen, and old Colonel Ellison, who has always got the gout, and
-Lord George, if he comes--and I'm sure he won't. If you want to make a
-pleasant party for Adolphus, you must get some young men; besides, you
-can't ask all those girls, and have nobody to dance with them or talk
-to them."
-
-"I'm sure, my dear, I don't know what you're to do. I don't know any
-young men except Mr. Hill; and there's that young Mr. Grundy, who lives
-in Dublin. I promised his aunt to be civil to him: can't you ask him
-down?"
-
-"He was here before, mamma, and I don't think he liked it. I'm sure we
-didn't. He didn't speak a word the whole day he was here. He's not at
-all the person to suit Adolphus."
-
-"Then, my dear, you _must_ go to your papa, and ask him: it's quite
-clear I can't make young men. I remember, years ago, there always used
-to be too many of them, and I don't know where they're all gone to. At
-any rate, when they do come, there'll be nothing for them to eat," and
-Lady Cashel again fell back upon her deficiencies in the kitchen
-establishment.
-
-Lady Selina saw that nothing more could be obtained from her mother,
-no further intelligence as regarded the embryo party. The whole burden
-was to lie on her shoulders, and very heavy she felt it. As far as
-concerned herself, she had no particular wish for one kind of guest
-more than another: it was not for herself that she wanted young men;
-she knew that at any rate there were none within reach whom she could
-condescend to notice save as her father's guests; there could be no
-one there whose presence could be to her of any interest: the gouty
-colonel, and the worthy bishop, would be as agreeable to her as any
-other men that would now be likely to visit Grey Abbey. But Lady Selina
-felt a real desire that others in the house might be happy while there.
-She was no flirt herself, nor had she ever been; it was not in her
-nature to be so. But though she herself might be contented to twaddle
-with old men, she knew that other girls would not. Yet it was not that
-she herself had no inward wish for that admiration which is desired
-by nearly every woman, or that she thought a married state was an
-unenviable one. No; she could have loved and loved truly, and could
-have devoted herself most scrupulously to the duties of a wife; but she
-had vainly and foolishly built up for herself a pedestal, and there she
-had placed herself; nor would she come down to stand on common earth,
-though Apollo had enticed her, unless he came with the coronet of a
-peer upon his brow.
-
-She left her mother's boudoir, went down into the drawing-room,
-and there she wrote her notes of invitation, and her orders to the
-tradesmen; and then she went to her father, and consulted him on the
-difficult subject of young men. She suggested the Newbridge Barracks,
-where the dragoons were; and the Curragh, where perhaps some stray
-denizen of pleasure might be found, neither too bad for Grey Abbey, nor
-too good to be acceptable to Lord Kilcullen; and at last it was decided
-that a certain Captain Cokely, and Mat Tierney, should be asked. They
-were both acquaintances of Adolphus; and though Mat was not a young
-man, he was not very old, and was usually very gay.
-
-So that matter was settled, and the invitations were sent off. The
-countess overcame her difficulty by consenting that Murray the man cook
-should be hired for a given time, with the distinct understanding that
-he was to take himself off with the rest of the guests, and so great
-was her ladyship's sense of the importance of the negotiation, that she
-absolutely despatched Griffiths to Dublin to arrange it, though thereby
-she was left two whole days in solitary misery at Grey Abbey; and had
-to go to bed, and get up, she really hardly knew how, with such
-assistance as Lady Selina's maid could give her.
-
-When these things were all arranged, Selina told her cousin that
-Adolphus was coming home, and that a house full of company had been
-asked to meet him. She was afraid that Fanny would be annoyed and
-offended at being forced to go into company so soon after her brother's
-death, but such was not the case. She felt, herself, that her poor
-brother was not the cause of the grief that was near her heart; and she
-would not pretend what she didn't really feel.
-
-"You were quite right, Selina," she said, smiling, "about the things
-you said yesterday I should want from Dublin: now, I shall want them;
-and, as I wouldn't accept of your good-natured offer, I must take the
-trouble of writing myself."
-
-"If you like it, Fanny, I'll write for you," said Selina.
-
-"Oh no, I'm not quite so idle as that"--and she also began her
-preparations for the expected festivities. Little did either of them
-think that she, Fanny Wyndham, was the sole cause of all the trouble
-which the household and neighbourhood were to undergo:--the fatigue of
-the countess; Griffiths's journey; the arrival of the dread man cook;
-Richards's indignation at being made subordinate to such authority; the
-bishop's desertion of the Education Board; the colonel's dangerous and
-precipitate consumption of colchicum; the quarrel between Lord and
-Lady George as to staying or not staying; the new dresses of the Miss
-O'Joscelyns, which their worthy father could so ill afford; and, above
-all, the confusion, misery, rage, and astonishment which attended Lord
-Kilcullen's unexpected retreat from London, in the middle of the
-summer. And all in vain!
-
-How proud and satisfied Lord Ballindine might have been, had he been
-able to see all this, and could he have known how futile was every
-effort Lord Cashel could make to drive from Fanny Wyndham's heart the
-love she felt for him.
-
-The invitations, however, were, generally speaking, accepted. The
-bishop and his wife would be most happy; the colonel would come if the
-gout would possibly allow; Lady George wrote a note to say they would
-be very happy to stay a few days, and Lord George wrote another soon
-after to say he was sorry, but that they must return the same evening.
-The O'Joscelyns would be delighted; Mat Tierney would be very proud;
-Captain Cokely would do himself the honour; and, last but not least,
-Mr. Murray would preside below stairs--for a serious consideration.
-
-What a pity so much trouble should have been taken! They might all have
-stayed at home; for Fanny Wyndham will never become Lady Kilcullen.
-
-
-
-
-XXX.  LORD KILCULLEN OBEYS HIS FATHER
-
-
-On the appointed day, or rather on the night of the appointed day, Lord
-Kilcullen reached Grey Abbey; for it was about eleven o'clock when his
-travelling-phaeton rattled up to the door. He had been expected to
-dinner at seven, and the first attempts of Murray in the kitchens of
-Grey Abbey had been kept waiting for him till half-past eight; but in
-vain. At that hour the earl, black with ill-humour, ordered dinner;
-and remarked that he considered it criminal in any man to make an
-appointment, who was not sufficiently attached to veracity to keep it.
-
-The evening was passed in moody silence. The countess was disappointed,
-for she always contrived to persuade herself that she was very anxious
-to see her son. Lady Selina was really vexed, and began to have her
-doubts as to her brother's coming at all: what was to be done, if it
-turned out that all the company had been invited for nothing? As to
-Fanny, though very indifferent to the subject of her cousin's coming,
-she was not at all in a state of mind to dissipate the sullenness which
-prevailed. The ladies went to bed early, the countess grumbling at her
-lot, in not being allowed to see her son, and her daughter and niece
-marching off with their respective candlesticks in solemn silence. The
-earl retired to his book-room soon afterwards; but he had not yet sat
-down, when the quick rattle of the wheels was heard upon the gravel
-before the house.
-
-Lord Cashel walked out into the hall, prepared to meet his son in a
-befitting manner; that is, with a dignified austerity that could not
-fail to convey a rebuke even to his hardened heart. But he was balked
-in his purpose, for he found that Lord Kilcullen was not alone; Mat
-Tierney had come down with him. Kilcullen had met his friend in Dublin,
-and on learning that he also was bound for Grey Abbey on the day but
-one following, had persuaded him to accelerate his visit, had waited
-for him, and brought him down in his own carriage. The truth was, that
-Lord Kilcullen had thought that the shades of Grey Abbey would be too
-much for him, without some genial spirit to enlighten them: he was
-delighted to find that Mat Tierney was to be there, and was rejoiced
-to be able to convey him with him, as a sort of protection from his
-father's eloquence for the first two days of the visit.
-
-"Lord Kilcullen, your mother and I--" began the father, intent on at
-once commenting on the iniquity of the late arrival; when he saw the
-figure of a very stout gentleman, amply wrapped up in travelling
-habiliments, follow his son into the inner hall.
-
-"Tierney, my lord," said the son, "was good enough to come down with
-me. I found that he intended to be here to-morrow, and I told him you
-and my mother would be delighted to see him to-day instead."
-
-The earl shook Mr. Tierney's hand, and told him how very welcome he
-was at all times, and especially at present--unexpected pleasures were
-always the most agreeable; and then the earl bustled about, and ordered
-supper and wine, and fussed about the bed-rooms, and performed the
-necessary rites of hospitality, and then went to bed, without having
-made one solemn speech to his son. So far, Lord Kilcullen had been
-successful in his manoeuvre; and he trusted that by making judicious
-use of Mat Tierney, he might be able to stave off the evil hour for at
-any rate a couple of days.
-
-But he was mistaken. Lord Cashel was now too much in earnest to be
-put off his purpose; he had been made too painfully aware that his
-son's position was desperate, and that he must at once be saved by a
-desperate effort, or given over to utter ruin. And, to tell the truth,
-so heavy were the new debts of which he heard from day to day, so
-insurmountable seemed the difficulties, that he all but repented that
-he had not left him to his fate. The attempt, however, must again be
-made; he was there, in the house, and could not be turned out; but
-Lord Cashel determined that at any rate no time should be lost.
-
-The two new arrivals made their appearance the next morning, greatly
-to Lady Cashel's delight; she was perfectly satisfied with her son's
-apology, and delighted to find that at any rate one of her expected
-guests would not fail her in her need. The breakfast went over
-pleasantly enough, and Kilcullen was asking Mat to accompany him into
-the stables, to see what novelties they should find there, when Lord
-Cashel spoiled the arrangement by saying,
-
-"Could you spare me half-an-hour in the bookroom first, Kilcullen?"
-
-This request, of course, could not be refused; and the father and son
-walked off, leaving Mat Tierney to the charity of the ladies.
-
-There was much less of flippant overbearing impudence now, about Lord
-Kilcullen, much less of arrogance and insult from the son towards the
-father, than there had been in the previous interview which has been
-recorded. He seemed to be somewhat in dread, to be cowed, and ill at
-ease; he tried, however, to assume his usual manner, and followed his
-father into the book-room with an affected air of indifference, which
-very ill concealed his real feelings.
-
-"Kilcullen," began the earl, "I was very sorry to see Tierney with you
-last night. It would have been much better that we should have been
-alone together, at any rate for one morning. I suppose you are aware
-that there is a great deal to be talked over between us?"
-
-"I suppose there is," said the son; "but I couldn't well help bringing
-the man, when he told me he was coming here."
-
-"He didn't ask you to bring him, I suppose?--but we will not talk about
-that. Will you do me the favour to inform me what your present plans
-are?"
-
-"My present plans, my lord? Indeed, I've no plans!--It's a long time
-since I had a plan of my own. I am, however, prepared to acquiesce
-entirely in any which you may propose. I have come quite prepared to
-throw at Miss Wyndham's feet myself and my fortune."
-
-"And do you expect her to accept you?"
-
-"You said she would, my lord: so I have taken that for granted. I, at
-any rate, will ask her; if she refuses me, your lordship will perhaps
-be able to persuade her to a measure so evidently beneficial to all
-parties."
-
-"The persuading must be with yourself; but if you suppose you can carry
-her with a high hand, without giving yourself the trouble to try to
-please her, you are very much mistaken. If you think she'll accept you
-merely because you ask her, you might save yourself the trouble, and as
-well return to London at once."
-
-"Just as you please, my lord; but I thought I came in obedience to your
-express wishes."
-
-"So you did; but, to tell you the truth--your manner in coming is very
-different from what I would wish it to be. Your--"
-
-"Did you want me to crawl here on my hands and knees?"
-
-"I wanted you to come, Kilcullen, with some sense of what you owe to
-those who are endeavouring to rescue you from ruin: with some feeling
-of, at any rate, sorrow for the mad extravagance of your past career.
-Instead of that, you come gay, reckless, and unconcerned as ever; you
-pick up the first jovial companion you meet, and with him disturb the
-house at a most unseasonable hour. You are totally regardless of the
-appointments you make; and plainly show, that as you come here solely
-for your own pleasure, you consider it needless to consult my wishes
-or my comfort. Are you aware that you kept your mother and myself two
-hours waiting for dinner yesterday?"
-
-The pathos with which Lord Cashel terminated his speech--and it was one
-the thrilling effect of which he intended to be overwhelming--almost
-restored Lord Kilcullen to his accustomed effrontery.
-
-"My lord," he said, "I did not consider myself of sufficient importance
-to have delayed your dinner ten minutes."
-
-"I have always endeavoured, Kilcullen, to show the same respect to you
-in my house, which my father showed to me in his; but you do not allow
-me the opportunity. But let that pass; we have more important things to
-speak of. When last we were here together why did you not tell me the
-whole truth?"
-
-"What truth, my lord?"
-
-"About your debts, Kilcullen: why did you conceal from me their full
-amount? Why, at any rate, did you take pains to make me think them so
-much less than they really are?"
-
-"Conceal, my lord?--that is hardly fair, considering that I told you
-expressly I could not give you any idea what was the amount I owed. I
-concealed nothing; if you deceived yourself, the fault was not mine."
-
-"You could not but have known that the claims against you were much
-larger than I supposed them to be--double, I suppose. Good heaven!--why
-in ten years more, at this rate, you would more than consume the fee
-simple of the whole property! What can I say to you, Kilcullen, to make
-you look on your own conduct in the proper light?"
-
-"I think you have said enough for the purpose; you have told me to
-marry, and I have consented to do so."
-
-"Do you think, Kilcullen, you have spent the last eight years in a way
-which it can please a father to contemplate? Do you think I can look
-back on your conduct with satisfaction or content? And yet you have no
-regret to express for the past--no promises to make for the future. I
-fear it is all in vain. I fear that what I am doing what I am striving
-to do, is now all in vain. I fear it is hopeless to attempt to recall
-you from the horrid, reckless, wicked mode of life you have adopted."
-The sombre mantle of expostulatory eloquence had now descended on the
-earl, and he continued, turning full upon his victim, and raising and
-lowering his voice with monotonous propriety.--"I fear it is to no
-good purpose that I am subjecting your mother and myself to privation,
-restraint, and inconvenience; that I am straining every nerve to place
-you again in a position of respectability, a position suitable to my
-fortune and your own rank. I am endeavouring to retrieve the desperate
-extravagance--the--I must say--though I do not wish to hurt your
-feelings, yet I must say, disgraceful ruin of your past career. And how
-do you help me? what regret do you show? what promises of amendment do
-you afford? You drive up to my hall-door at midnight with your boon
-companion; you disturb the whole household at most unseasonable hours,
-and subject my family to the same disreputable irregularity in which
-you have yourself so long indulged. Can such doings, Kilcullen, give me
-any hopes for the future? Can--"
-
-"My lord--I am extremely sorry for the dinner: what can I say more? And
-as for Mat Tierney, he is your own guest or her ladyship's--not mine.
-It is my misfortune to have come in the same carriage with him, but
-that is the extent of my offence."
-
-"Well, Kilcullen; if you think your conduct has always been such as it
-ought to be, it is of little use for me to bring up arguments to the
-contrary."
-
-"I don't think so, my lord. What can I say more? I have done
-those things which I ought not to have done. Were I to confess my
-transgressions for the hour together, I could not say more; except that
-I have left undone the things which I ought to have done. Or, do you
-want me to beat my breast and tear my hair?"
-
-"I want you, Lord Kilcullen, to show some sense of decency--some filial
-respect."
-
-"Well, my lord, here I am, prepared to marry a wife of your own
-choosing, and to set about the business this morning, if you please. I
-thought you would have called that decent, filial, and respectable."
-
-The earl could hardly gainsay this; but still he could not bring
-himself to give over so soon the unusual pleasure of blowing up his
-only son. It was so long since Lord Kilcullen had been regularly
-in his power, and it might never occur again. So he returned from
-consideration of the future to a further retrospect on the past.
-
-"You certainly have played your cards most foolishly; you have thrown
-away your money--rather, I should say, my money, in a manner which
-nothing can excuse or palliate. You might have made the turf a source
-of gratifying amusement; your income was amply sufficient to enable
-you to do so; but you have possessed so little self-control, so little
-judgment, so little discrimination, that you have allowed yourself
-to be plundered by every blackleg, and robbed by every--everybody in
-short, who chose to rob you. The same thing has been the case in all
-your other amusements and pursuits--"
-
-"Well, my lord, I confess it all; isn't that enough?"
-
-"Enough, Kilcullen!" said the earl, in a voice of horrified
-astonishment, "how enough?--how can anything be enough after such a
-course--so wild, so mad, so ruinous!"
-
-"For Heaven's sake, my lord, finish the list of my iniquities, or
-you'll make me feel that I am utterly unfit to become my cousin's
-husband."
-
-"I fear you are--indeed I fear you are. Are the horses disposed of yet,
-Kilcullen?"
-
-"Indeed they are not, my lord; nor can I dispose of them. There is more
-owing for them than they are worth; you may say they belong to the
-trainer now."
-
-"Is the establishment in Curzon Street broken up?"
-
-"To tell the truth, not exactly; but I've no thoughts of returning
-there. I'm still under rent for the house."
-
-The cross-examination was continued for a considerable time--till the
-earl had literally nothing more to say, and Lord Kilcullen was so
-irritated that he told his father he would not stand it any longer.
-Then they went into money affairs, and the earl spoke despondingly
-about ten thousands and twenty thousands, and the viscount somewhat
-flippantly of fifty thousands and sixty thousands; and this was
-continued till the earl felt that his son was too deep in the mire to
-be pulled out, and the son thought that, deep as he was there, it would
-be better to remain and wallow in it than undergo so disagreeable a
-process as that to which his father subjected him in extricating him
-from it. It was settled, however, that Mr. Jervis, Lord Cashel's
-agent, should receive full authority to deal summarily in all matters
-respecting the horses and their trainers, the house in Curzon Street,
-and its inhabitants, and all other appendages and sources of expense
-which Lord Kilcullen had left behind him; and that he, Kilcullen,
-should at once commence his siege upon his cousin's fortune. And on
-this point the son bargained that, as it would be essentially necessary
-that his spirits should be light and easy, he was not, during
-the operation, to be subjected to any of his father's book-room
-conversations: for this he stipulated as an absolute _sine qua non_
-in the negotiation, and the clause was at last agreed to, though not
-without much difficulty.
-
-Both father and son seemed to think that the offer should be made at
-once. Lord Cashel really feared that his son would be arrested at Grey
-Abbey, and he was determined to pay nothing further for him, unless
-he felt secure of Fanny's fortune; and whatever were Lord Kilcullen's
-hopes and fears as to his future lot, he was determined not to remain
-long in suspense, as far as his projected marriage was concerned. He
-was determined to do his best to accomplish it, for he would have done
-anything to get the command of ready money; if he was not successful,
-at any rate he need not remain in the purgatory of Grey Abbey. The
-Queen's Bench would be preferable to that. He was not, however, very
-doubtful; he felt but little confidence in the constancy of any woman's
-affection, and a great deal in his own powers of fascination: he had
-always been successful in his appeals to ladies' hearts, and did not
-doubt of being so now, when the object of his adoration must, as he
-thought, be so dreadfully in want of some excitement, something to
-interest her. Any fool might have her now, thought he, and she can't
-have any violent objection to being Lady Kilcullen for the present, and
-Lady Cashel in due time. He felt, however, something like remorse at
-the arrangement to which he was a party; it was not that he was about
-to make a beautiful creature, his own cousin, miserable for life, by
-uniting her to a spendthrift, a _roue_, and a gambler--such was the
-natural lot of women in the higher ranks of life--but he felt that
-he was robbing her of her money. He would have thought it to be no
-disgrace to carry her off had another person been her guardian. She
-would then have had fair play, and it would be the guardian's fault if
-her fortune were not secure. But she had no friend now to protect her:
-it was her guardian himself who was betraying her to ruin.
-
-However, the money must be had, and Lord Kilcullen was not long in
-quieting his conscience.
-
-"Tierney," said Kilcullen, meeting his friend after his escape from the
-book-room; "you are not troubled with a father now, I believe;--do you
-recollect whether you ever had one?"
-
-"Well, I can't say I remember just at present," said Mat; "but I
-believe I had a sort of one, once."
-
-"I'm a more dutiful son than you," said the other; "I never can forget
-mine. I have no doubt an alligator on the banks of the Nile is a
-fearful creature--a shark when one's bathing, or a jungle tiger when
-one's out shooting, ought, I'm sure, to be avoided; but no creature
-yet created, however hungry, or however savage, can equal in ferocity
-a governor who has to shell out his cash! I've no wish for a
-_tete-a-tete_ with any bloody-minded monster; but I'd sooner meet a
-starved hyena, single-handed in the desert, than be shut up for another
-hour with my Lord Cashel in that room of his on the right-hand side
-of the hall. If you hear of my having beat a retreat from Grey Abbey,
-without giving you or any one else warning of my intention, you will
-know that I have lacked courage to comply with a second summons to
-those gloomy realms. If I receive another invite such as that I got
-this morning, I am off."
-
-Lady Cashel's guests came on the day appointed; the carriages were
-driven up, one after another, in quick succession, about an hour before
-dinner-time; and, as her ladyship's mind became easy on the score of
-disappointments, it was somewhat troubled as to the multitude of people
-to be fed and entertained. Murray had not yet forgiven the injury
-inflicted on him when the family dinner was kept waiting for Lord
-Kilcullen, and Richards was still pouting at her own degraded position.
-The countess had spent the morning pretending to make arrangements,
-which were in fact all settled by Griffiths; and when she commenced
-the operation of dressing herself, she declared she was so utterly
-exhausted by what she had gone through during the last week, as to be
-entirely unfit to entertain her company. Poor dear Lady Cashel! Was she
-so ignorant of her own nature as to suppose it possible that she should
-ever entertain anybody?
-
-However, a glass of wine, and some mysterious drops, and a little
-paint; a good deal of coaxing, the sight of her diamonds, and of a
-large puce-coloured turban, somewhat revivified her; and she was in her
-drawing-room in due time, supported by Lady Selina and Fanny, ready to
-receive her visitors as soon as they should descend from their
-respective rooms.
-
-Lady Cashel had already welcomed Lord George, and shaken hands with the
-bishop: and was now deep in turnips and ten-pound freeholders with the
-gouty colonel, who had hobbled into the room on a pair of crutches, and
-was accommodated with two easy chairs in a corner--one for himself, and
-the other for his feet.
-
-"Now, my dear Lady George," said the countess, "you must not think of
-returning to Mountains tonight: indeed, we made sure of you and Lord
-George for a week."
-
-"My dear Lady Cashel, it's impossible; indeed, we wished it of all
-things, and tried it every way: but we couldn't manage it; Lord George
-has so much to do: there's the Sessions to-morrow at Dunlavin, and he
-has promised to meet Sir Glenmalure Aubrey, about a road, or a river,
-or a bridge--I forget which it is; and they must attend to those
-things, you know, or the tenants couldn't get their corn to market. But
-you don't know how sorry we are, and such a charming set you have got
-here!"
-
-"Well, I know it's no use pressing you; but I can't tell you how vexed
-I am, for I counted on you, above all, and Adolphus will be so sorry.
-You know Lord Kilcullen's come home, Lady George?"
-
-"Yes; I was very glad to hear we were to meet him."
-
-"Oh, yes! He's come to stay here some time, I believe; he's got quite
-fond of Grey Abbey lately. He and his father get on so well together,
-it's quite a delight to me."
-
-"Oh, it must be, I'm sure," said Lady George; and the countess sidled
-off to the bishop's fat wife.
-
-"Well, this is very kind of you and the bishop, to come at so short a
-notice: indeed I hardly dared expect it. I know he has so much to do in
-Dublin with those horrid boards and things."
-
-"He is busy there, to be sure, Lady Cashel; but he couldn't deny
-himself the pleasure of coming to Grey Abbey; he thinks so very much
-of the earl. Indeed, he'd contrive to be able to come here, when he
-couldn't think of going anywhere else."
-
-"I'm sure Lord Cashel feels how kind he is; and so do I, and so does
-Adolphus. Lord Kilcullen will be delighted to meet you and the bishop."
-
-The bishop's wife assured the countess that nothing on earth, at the
-present moment, would give the bishop so much pleasure as meeting Lord
-Kilcullen.
-
-"You know the bishop christened him, don't you?" said Lady Cashel.
-
-"No! did he though?" said the bishop's wife; "how very interesting!"
-
-"Isn't it? And Adolphus longs to meet him. He's so fond of everything
-that's high-minded and talented, Adolphus is: a little sarcastic
-perhaps--I don't mind saying so to you; but that's only to inferior
-sort of people--not talented, you know: some people are stupid, and
-Adolphus can't bear that."
-
-"Indeed they are, my lady. I was dining last week at Mrs. Prijean's, in
-Merrion Square; you know Mrs. Prijean?"
-
-"I think I met her at Carton, four years ago."
-
-"Well, she is very heavy: what do you think, Lady Cashel, she--"
-
-"Adolphus can't bear people of that sort, but he'll be delighted with
-the bishop: it's so delightful, his having christened him. Adolphus
-means to live a good deal here now. Indeed, he and his father have so
-much in common that they can't get on very well apart, and I really
-hope he and the bishop'll see a good deal of each other;" and the
-countess left the bishop's wife and sat herself down by old Mrs.
-Ellison.
-
-"My dear Mrs. Ellison, I am so delighted to see you once again at Grey
-Abbey; it's such ages since you were here!"
-
-"Indeed it is, Lady Cashel, a very long time; but the poor colonel
-suffers so much, it's rarely he's fit to be moved; and, indeed, I'm not
-much better myself. I was not able to move my left shoulder from a week
-before Christmas-day till a few days since!"
-
-"You don't say so! Rheumatism, I suppose?"
-
-"Oh, yes--all rheumatism: no one knows what I suffer."
-
-"And what do you use for it?"
-
-"Oh, there's nothing any use. I know the very nature of rheumatism now,
-I've had it so long--and it minds nothing at all: there's no preventing
-it, and no curing it. It's like a bad husband, Lady Cashel; the best
-way is to put up with it."
-
-"And how is the dear colonel, Mrs. Ellison?"
-
-"Why, he was just able to come here, and that was all; but he was dying
-to see Lord Cashel. He thinks the ministers'll be shaken about this
-business of O'Connell's; and if so, that there'll be a general
-election, and then what'll they do about the county?"
-
-"I'm sure Lord Cashel wanted to see the colonel on that very subject;
-so does Adolphus--Lord Kilcullen, you know. I never meddle with
-those things; but I really think Adolphus is thinking of going into
-Parliament. You know he's living here at present: his father's views
-and his own are so exactly the same on all those sort of things, that
-it's quite delightful. He's taking a deal of interest about the county
-lately, is Adolphus, and about Grey Abbey too: he's just the same his
-father used to be, and that kind of thing is so pleasant, isn't it, Mrs
-Ellison?"
-
-Mrs Ellison said it was, and at the same moment groaned, for her
-shoulder gave her a twinge.
-
-The subject of these eulogiums, in the meantime, did not make his
-appearance till immediately before dinner was announced, and certainly
-did not evince very strongly the delight which his mother had assured
-her friends he would feel at meeting them, for he paid but very little
-attention to any one but Mat Tierney and his cousin Fanny; he shook
-hands with all the old gentlemen, bowed to all the old ladies, and
-nodded at the young ones. But if he really felt that strong desire,
-which his mother had imputed to him, of opening his heart to the bishop
-and the colonel respecting things temporal and spiritual, he certainly
-very successfully suppressed his anxiety.
-
-He had, during the last two or three days, applied himself to the task
-of ingratiating himself with Fanny. He well knew how to suit himself to
-different characters, and to make himself agreeable when he pleased;
-and Fanny, though she had never much admired her dissipated cousin,
-certainly found his conversation a relief after the usual oppressive
-tedium of Grey Abbey society.
-
-He had not begun by making love to her, or expressing admiration, or
-by doing or saying anything which could at all lead her to suspect his
-purpose, or put her on her guard. He had certainly been much more
-attentive to her, much more intimate with her, than he usually had been
-in his flying visits to Grey Abbey; but then he was now making his
-first appearance as a reformed rake; and besides, he was her first
-cousin, and she therefore felt no inclination to repel his advances.
-
-He was obliged, in performance of a domestic duty, to walk out to
-dinner with one of Lady George's daughters, but he contrived to sit
-next to Fanny--and, much to his father's satisfaction, talked to her
-during the whole ceremony.
-
-"And where have you hidden yourself all the morning, Fanny," said he,
-"that nobody has seen anything of you since breakfast?"
-
-"Whither have _you_ taken yourself all the day, rather, that you had
-not a moment to come and look after us? The Miss O'Joscelyns have been
-expecting you to ride with them, walk with them, talk with them, and
-play _la grace_ with them. They didn't give up the sticks till it was
-quite dark, in the hope of you and Mr Tierney making your appearance."
-
-"Well, Fanny, don't tell my mother, and I'll tell you the truth:--
-promise now."
-
-"Oh, I'm no tell-tale."
-
-"Well then," and he whispered into her ear--"I was running away from
-the Miss O'Joscelyns."
-
-"But that won't do at all; don't you know they were asked here for your
-especial edification and amusement?"
-
-"Oh, I know they were. So were the bishop, and the colonel, and Lord
-George, and their respective wives, and Mr Hill. My dear mamma asked
-them all here for my amusement; but, you know, one man may lead a horse
-to water--a hundred can't make him drink. I cannot, cannot drink of the
-Miss O'Joscelyns, and the Bishop of Maryborough."
-
-"For shame, Adolphus! you ought at any rate to do something to amuse
-them."
-
-"Amuse them! My dear Fanny, who ever heard of amusing a bishop? But
-it's very easy to find fault; what have you done, yourself, for their
-amusement?"
-
-"I didn't run away from them; though, had I done so, there would have
-been more excuse for me than for you."
-
-"So there would, Fanny," said Kilcullen, feeling that she had alluded
-to her brother's death; "and I'm very, very sorry all these people are
-here to bore you at such a time, and doubly sorry that they should have
-been asked on my account. They mistake me greatly, here. They know that
-I've thought Grey Abbey dull, and have avoided it; and now that I've
-determined to get over the feeling, because I think it right to do so,
-they make it ten times more unbearable than ever, for my gratification!
-It's like giving a child physic mixed in sugar; the sugar's sure to be
-the nastiest part of the dose. Indeed I have no dislike to Grey Abbey
-at present; though I own I have no taste for the sugar in which my kind
-mother has tried to conceal its proper flavour."
-
-"Well, make the best of it; they'll all be gone in ten days."
-
-"Ten days! Are they to stay ten days? Will you tell me, Fanny, what was
-the object in asking Mat Tierney to meet such a party?"
-
-"To help you to amuse the young ladies."
-
-"Gracious heavens! Does Lady Cashel really expect Mat Tierney to play
-_la grace_ with the Miss O'Joscelyns?--Well, the time will come to an
-end, I suppose. But in truth I'm more sorry for you than for any one.
-It was very ill-judged, their getting such a crowd to bore you at such
-a time," and Lord Kilcullen contrived to give his voice a tone of
-tender solicitude.
-
-"Kilcullen," said the earl, across the table, "you don't hear the
-bishop. His lordship is asking you to drink wine with him."
-
-"I shall be most proud of the honour," said the son, and bobbed his
-head at the bishop across the table.
-
-Fanny was on the point of saying something respecting her brother to
-Lord Kilcullen, which would have created a kind of confidence between
-them, but the bishop's glass of wine broke it off, and from that time
-Lord Kilcullen was forced by his father into a general conversation
-with his guests.
-
-In the evening there was music and singing. The Miss O'Joscelyns, and
-Miss Fitzgeralds, and Mr Hill, performed: even Mat Tierney condescended
-to amuse the company by singing the "Coronation", first begging the
-bishop to excuse the peculiar allusions to the "_clargy_", contained
-in one of the verses; and then Fanny was asked to sing. She had again
-become silent, dull, and unhappy, was brooding over her miseries and
-disappointments, and she declined. Lord Kilcullen was behind her chair,
-and when they pressed her, he whispered to her, "Don't sing for them,
-Fanny; it's a shame that they should tease you at such a time; I wonder
-how my mother can have been so thoughtless."
-
-Fanny persisted in declining to sing--and Lord Kilcullen again sat
-down beside her. "Don't trouble yourself about them, Fanny," said he,
-"they're just fit to sing to each other; it's very good work for them."
-
-"I should think it very good work, as you call it, for myself, too,
-another time; only I'm hardly in singing humour at present, and,
-therefore, obliged to you for your assistance and protection."
-
-"Your most devoted knight as long as this fearful invasion lasts!--your
-Amadis de Gaul--your Bertrand du Guesclin [45]! And no paladin of old
-ever attempted to defend a damsel from more formidable foes."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 45: Amadis . . .  du Guesclin--mediaeval heroes. Amadis
-                   de Gaul was the title hero of a 14th century
-                   romantic novel, probably first written in Spanish,
-                   which was popular throughout Europe. Bertrand du
-                   Guesclin was a historical figure, a fourteenth
-                   century French soldier and Marshall of France.]
-
-"Indeed, Adolphus, I don't think them so formidable. Many of them are
-my own friends."
-
-"Is Mrs Ellison your own friend?--or Mrs Moore?"
-
-"Not exactly those two, in particular."
-
-"Who then? Is it Miss Judith O'Joscelyn? or is the Reverend Mr Hill one
-of those to whom you give that sweetest of all names?"
-
-"Yes; to both of them. It was only this morning I had a long
-_tete-a-tete_--"
-
-"What, with Mr Hill?"
-
-"No, not with Mr Hill though it wouldn't be the first even with him,
-but with Judith O'Joscelyn. I lent her a pattern for worsted work."
-
-"And does that make her your friend? Do you give your friendship so
-easily?"
-
-"You forget that I've known her for years."
-
-"Well, now, I've not. I've seen her about three times in my life,
-and spoken two words to her perhaps twice; and yet I'll describe her
-character to you; and if you can say that the description is incorrect,
-I will permit you to call her your friend."
-
-"Well, let's hear the character."
-
-"It wouldn't be kind in me, though, to laugh at your _friend_."
-
-"Oh, she's not so especially and particularly my friend that you need
-mind that."
-
-"Then you'll promise not to be angry?"
-
-"Oh no, I won't be angry."
-
-"Well, then; she has two passions: they are for worsted and hymn-books.
-She has a moral objection to waltzing. Theoretically she disapproves of
-flirtations: she encourages correspondence between young ladies; always
-crosses her letters, and never finished one for the last ten years
-without expressing entire resignation to the will of God,--as if she
-couldn't be resigned without so often saying so. She speaks to her
-confidential friends of young men as a very worthless, insignificant
-race of beings; she is, however, prepared to take the very first that
-may be unfortunate enough to come in her way; she has no ideas of
-her own, but is quick enough at borrowing those of other people; she
-considers herself a profound theologian; dotes on a converted papist,
-and looks on a Puseyite [46] as something one shade blacker than the
-devil. Now isn't that sufficiently like for a portrait?"
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 46: Puseyite--a follower of Edward Pusey (1800-1882),
-                   one of three scholars at Oxford who started a
-                   movement critical of the Church of England. One
-                   of the three, John Henry Newman, converted to
-                   Catholicism, and Pusey and his followers were
-                   accused of advocating Catholic practices.]
-
-"It's the portrait of a set, I fear, rather than an individual. I don't
-know that it's particularly like Miss O'Joscelyn, except as to the
-worsted and hymn-books."
-
-"What, not as to the waltzing, resignation, and worthless young men?
-Come, are they not exactly her traits? Does she waltz?"
-
-"No, she does not."
-
-"And haven't you heard her express a moral objection to it?"
-
-"Well, I believe I have."
-
-"Did you ever get a letter from her, or see a letter of hers?"
-
-"I don't remember; yes, I did once, a long time ago."
-
-"And wasn't she very resigned in it?"
-
-"Well, I declare I believe she was; and it's very proper too; people
-ought to be resigned."
-
-"Oh, of course. And now doesn't she love a convert and hate a
-Puseyite?"
-
-"All Irish clergyman's daughters do that."
-
-"Well, Fanny, you can't say but that it was a good portrait; and after
-that, will you pretend to say you call Miss O'Joscelyn your friend?"
-
-"Not my very friend of friends; but, as friends go, she's as good as
-most others."
-
-"And who is the friend of friends, Fanny?"
-
-"Come, you're not my father confessor. I'm not to tell you all. If I
-told you that, you'd make another portrait."
-
-"I'm sure I couldn't draw a disparaging picture of anybody you would
-really call your friend. But indeed I pity you, living among so many
-such people. There can be nobody here who understands you."
-
-"Oh, I'm not very unintelligible."
-
-"Much more so than Miss O'Joscelyn. I shouldn't wish to have to draw
-your portrait."
-
-"Pray don't; if it were frightful I should think you uncivil; and if
-you made it handsome, I should know you were flattering. Besides, you
-don't know enough of me to tell me my character."
-
-"I think I do; but I'll study it a little more before I put it on the
-canvass. Some likenesses are very hard to catch."
-
-Fanny felt, when she went to bed, that she had spent a pleasanter
-evening than she usually did, and that it was a much less nuisance
-to talk to her cousin Adolphus than to either his father, mother, or
-sister; and as she sat before her fire, while her maid was brushing
-her hair, she began to think that she had mistaken his character, and
-that he couldn't be the hard, sensual, selfish man for which she had
-taken him. Her ideas naturally fell back to Frank and her love, her
-difficulties and sorrows; and, before she went to sleep, she had almost
-taught herself to think that she might make Lord Kilcullen the means of
-bringing Lord Ballindine back to Grey Abbey.
-
-She had, to be sure, been told that her cousin had spoken ill of Frank;
-that it was he who had been foremost in decrying Lord Ballindine's
-folly and extravagance; but she had never heard him do so; she had
-only heard of it through Lord Cashel; and she quite ceased to believe
-anything her guardian might say respecting her discarded lover. At any
-rate she would try. Some step she was determined to take about Lord
-Ballindine; and, if her cousin refused to act like a cousin and a
-friend, she would only be exactly where she was before.
-
-
-
-
-XXXI.  THE TWO FRIENDS
-
-
-The next three days passed slowly and tediously for most of the guests
-assembled at Grey Abbey. Captain Cokely, and a Mr Battersby, came over
-from Newbridge barracks, but they did not add much to the general
-enjoyment of the party, though their arrival was hailed with delight
-by some of the young ladies. At any rate they made the rooms look less
-forlorn in the evenings, and made it worth the girls' while to put on
-their best bibs and tuckers.
-
-"But what's the use of it at all?" said Matilda Fitzgerald to little
-Letty O'Joscelyn, when she had spent three-quarters of an hour in
-adjusting her curls, and setting her flounces properly, on the evening
-before the arrival of the two cavalry officers; "not a soul to look at
-us but a crusty old colonel, a musty old bishop, and a fusty old beau!"
-
-"Who's the old beau?" said Letty.
-
-"Why, that Mr Tierney. I can't conceive how Lady Cashel can have asked
-us to meet such a set," and Matilda descended, pouting, and out of
-humour.
-
-But on the next day she went through her work much more willingly, if
-not more carefully.
-
-"That Captain Cokely's a very nice fellow," said Matilda; "the best of
-that Newbridge set, out and out."
-
-"Well now, I really think he's not so nice as Mr Battersby," said
-Letty. "I'm sure he's not so good-looking."
-
-"Oh, Battersby's only a boy. After all, Letty, I don't know whether I
-like officers so much better than other men,"--and she twisted her neck
-round to get a look at her back in the pier-glass, and gave her dress a
-little pull just above her bustle.
-
-"I'm sure I do," said Letty; "they've so much more to say for
-themselves, and they're so much smarter."
-
-"Why, yes, they are smarter," said Matilda; "and there's nothing on
-earth so dowdy as an old black coat, But, then, officers are always
-going away: you no sooner get to know one or two of a set, and to
-feel that one of them is really a darling fellow, but there, they are
-off--to Jamaica, China, Hounslow barracks, or somewhere; and then it's
-all to do over again."
-
-"Well, I do wish they wouldn't move them about quite so much."
-
-"But let's go down. I think I'll do now, won't I?" and they descended,
-to begin the evening campaign.
-
-"Wasn't Miss Wyndham engaged to some one?" said old Mrs Ellison to Mrs
-Moore. "I'm sure some one told me so."
-
-"Oh, yes, she was," said Mrs Moore; "the affair was settled, and
-everything arranged; but the man was very poor, and a gambler,--Lord
-Ballindine: he has the name of a property down in Mayo somewhere; but
-when she got all her brother's money, Lord Cashel thought it a pity to
-sacrifice it,--so he got her out of the scrape. A very good thing for
-the poor girl, for they say he's a desperate scamp."
-
-"Well, I declare I think," said Mrs Ellison, "she'll not have far to
-look for another."
-
-"What, you think there's something between her and Lord Kilcullen?"
-said Mrs Moore.
-
-"It looks like it, at any rate, don't it?" said Mrs Ellison.
-
-"Well, I really think it does," said Mrs Moore; "I'm sure I'd be very
-glad of it. I know he wants money desperately, and it would be such a
-capital thing for the earl."
-
-"At any rate, the lady does not look a bit unwilling," said Mrs
-Ellison. "I suppose she's fond of rakish young men. You say Lord
-Ballindine was of that set; and I'm sure Lord Kilcullen's the
-same,--he has the reputation, at any rate. They say he and his father
-never speak, except just in public, to avoid the show of the thing."
-
-And the two old ladies set to work to a good dish of scandal.
-
-"Miss Wyndham's an exceedingly fine girl," said Captain Cokely to
-Mat Tierney, as they were playing a game of piquet in the little
-drawing-room.
-
-"Yes," said Mat; "and she's a hundred thousand exceedingly fine charms
-too, independently of her fine face."
-
-"So I hear," said Cokely; "but I only believe half of what I hear about
-those things."
-
-"She has more than that; I know it."
-
-"Has she though? Faith, do you know I think Kilcullen has a mind to
-keep it in the family. He's very soft on her, and she's just as sweet
-to him. I shouldn't be surprised if he were to marry now, and turn
-steady."
-
-"Not at all; there are two reasons against it. In the first place, he's
-too much dipped for even Fanny's fortune to be any good to him; and
-secondly, she's engaged."
-
-"What, to Ballindine?" said Cokely.
-
-"Exactly so," said Mat.
-
-"Ah, my dear fellow, that's all off long since. I heard Kilcullen say
-so myself. I'll back Kilcullen to marry her against Ballindine for a
-hundred pounds."
-
-"Done," said Mat; and the bet was booked.
-
-The same evening, Tierney wrote to Dot Blake, and said in a postscript,
-"I know you care for Ballindine; so do I, but I don't write to him.
-If he really wants to secure his turtle-dove, he should see that she
-doesn't get bagged in his absence. Kilcullen is here, and I tell you
-he's a keen sportsman. They say it's quite up with him in London, and
-I should be sorry she were sacrificed: she seems a nice girl."
-
-Lord Kilcullen had ample opportunities of forwarding his intimacy with
-Fanny, and he did not neglect them. To give him his due, he played his
-cards as well as his father could wish him. He first of all overcame
-the dislike with which she was prepared to regard him; he then
-interested her about himself; and, before he had been a week at Grey
-Abbey, she felt that she had a sort of cousinly affection for him. He
-got her to talk with a degree of interest about himself; and when he
-could do that, there was no wonder that Tierney should have fears for
-his friend's interests. Not that there was any real occasion for them.
-Fanny Wyndham was not the girl to be talked out of, or into, a real
-passion, by anyone.
-
-"Now, tell me the truth, Fanny," said Kilcullen, as they were sitting
-over the fire together in the library, one dark afternoon, before they
-went to dress for dinner; "hadn't you been taught to look on me as a
-kind of ogre--a monster of iniquity, who spoke nothing but oaths, and
-did nothing but sin?"
-
-"Not exactly that: but I won't say I thought you were exactly just what
-you ought to be."
-
-"But didn't you think I was exactly what I ought not to have been?
-Didn't you imagine, now, that I habitually sat up all night, gambling,
-and drinking buckets of champagne and brandy-and-water? And that I lay
-in bed all day, devising iniquity in my dreams? Come now, tell the
-truth, and shame the devil; if I am the devil, I know people have made
-me out to be."
-
-"Why, really, Adolphus, I never calculated how your days and nights
-were spent. But if I am to tell the truth, I fear some of them might
-have been passed to better advantage."
-
-"Which of us, Fanny, mightn't, with truth, say the same of ourselves?"
-
-"Of course, none of us," said Fanny; "don't think I'm judging you; you
-asked me the question,--and I suppose you wanted an answer."
-
-"I did; I wanted a true one--for though you may never have given
-yourself much trouble to form an opinion about me, I am anxious that
-you should do so now. I don't want to trouble you with what is done and
-past; I don't want to make it appear that I have not been thoughtless
-and imprudent--wicked and iniquitous, if you are fond of strong terms;
-neither do I want to trouble you with confessing all my improprieties,
-that I may regularly receive absolution. But I do wish you to believe
-that I have done nothing which should exclude me from your future good
-opinion; from your friendship and esteem."
-
-"I am not of an unforgiving temperament, even had you done anything for
-me to forgive: but I am not aware that you have."
-
-"No; nothing for you to forgive, in the light of an offence to
-yourself; but much, perhaps, to prevent your being willing to regard
-me as a personal friend. We're not only first cousins, Fanny, but are
-placed more closely together than cousins usually are. You have neither
-father nor mother; now, also, you have no brother," and he took her
-hands in his own as he said so. "Who should be a brother to you, if I
-am not? who, at any rate, should you look on as a friend, if not on me?
-Nobody could be better, I believe, than Selina; but she is stiff, and
-cold--unlike you in everything. I should be so happy if I could be the
-friend--the friend of friends you spoke of the other evening; if I
-could fill the place which must be empty near your heart. I can never
-be this to you, if you believe that anything in my past life has been
-really disgraceful. It is for this reason that I want to know what you
-truly think of me. I won't deny that I am anxious you should think well
-of me:--well, at any rate for the present, and the future, and
-charitably as regards the past."
-
-Fanny had been taken much by surprise by the turn her cousin had given
-to the conversation; and was so much affected, that, before he had
-finished, she was in tears. She had taken her hand out of his, to put
-her handkerchief to her eyes, and as she did not immediately answer, he
-continued:
-
-"I shall probably be much here for some time to come--such, at least,
-are my present plans; and I hope that while I am, we shall become
-friends: not such friends, Fanny, as you and Judith O'Joscelyn--friends
-only of circumstance, who have neither tastes, habits, or feelings
-in common--friends whose friendship consists in living in the same
-parish, and meeting each other once or twice a week; but friends in
-reality--friends in confidence--friends in mutual dependence--friends
-in love--friends, dear Fanny, as cousins situated as we are should be
-to each other."
-
-Fanny's heart was very full, for she felt how much, how desperately,
-she wanted such a friend as Kilcullen described. How delightful it
-would be to have such a friend, and to find him in her own cousin! The
-whole family, hitherto, were so cold to her--so uncongenial. The earl
-she absolutely disliked; she loved her aunt, but it was only because
-she was her aunt--she couldn't like her; and though she loved Lady
-Selina, and, to a degree, admired her, it was like loving a marble
-figure. There was more true feeling in what Kilcullen had now said to
-her, than in all that had fallen from the whole family for the four
-years she had lived at Grey Abbey, and she could not therefore but
-close on the offer of his affection.
-
-"Shall we be such friends, then?" said he; "or, after all, am I too
-bad? Have I too much of the taint of the wicked world to be the friend
-of so pure a creature as you?"
-
-"Oh no, Adolphus; I'm sure I never thought so," said she. "I never
-judged you, and indeed I am not disposed to do so now. I'm too much in
-want of kindness to reject yours,--even were I disposed to do so, which
-I am not."
-
-"Then, Fanny, we are to be friends--true, loving, trusting friends?"
-
-"Oh, yes!" said Fanny. "I am really, truly grateful for your affection
-and kindness. I know how precious they are, and I will value them
-accordingly."
-
-Again Lord Kilcullen took her hand, and pressed it in his; and then he
-kissed it, and told her she was his own dear cousin Fanny; and then
-recommended her to go and dress, which she did. He sat himself down for
-a quarter of an hour, ruminating, and then also went off to dress; but,
-during that quarter of an hour, very different ideas passed through his
-mind, than such as those who knew him best would have given him credit
-for.
-
-In the first place, he thought that he really began to feel an
-affection for his cousin Fanny, and to speculate whether it were
-absolutely within the verge of possibility that he should marry
-her--retrieve his circumstances--treat her well, and live happily for
-the rest of his life as a respectable nobleman.
-
-For two or three minutes the illusion remained, till it was banished by
-retrospection. It was certainly possible that he should marry her: it
-was his full intention to do so: but as to retrieving his circumstances
-and treating her well!--the first was absolutely impossible--the other
-nearly so; and as to his living happily at Grey Abbey as a family man,
-he yawned as he felt how impossible it would be that he should spend a
-month in such a way, let alone a life. But then Fanny Wyndham was so
-beautiful, so lively, so affectionate, so exactly what a cousin and a
-wife ought to be: he could not bear to think that all his protestations
-of friendship and love had been hypocritical; that he could only look
-upon her as a gudgeon, and himself as a bigger fish, determined to
-swallow her! Yet such must be his views regarding her. He departed to
-dress, absolutely troubled in his conscience.
-
-And what were Fanny's thoughts about her cousin? She was much surprised
-and gratified, but at the same time somewhat flustered and overwhelmed,
-by the warmth and novelty of his affection. However, she never for a
-moment doubted his truth towards her, or had the slightest suspicion of
-his real object. Her chief thought was whether she could induce him to
-be a mediator for her, between Lord Cashel and Lord Ballindine.
-
-During the next two days he spoke to her a good deal about her
-brother--of whom, by-the-bye, he had really known nothing. He
-contrived, however, to praise him as a young man of much spirit and
-great promise; then he spoke of her own large fortune, asked her what
-her wishes were about its investment, and told her how happy he would
-be to express those wishes at once to Lord Cashel, and to see that they
-were carried out. Once or twice she had gradually attempted to lead the
-conversation to Lord Ballindine, but Kilcullen was too crafty, and had
-prevented her; and she had not yet sufficient courage to tell him at
-once what was so near her heart.
-
-"Fanny," said Lady Selina, one morning, about a week after the general
-arrival of the company at Grey Abbey, and when some of them had taken
-their departure, "I am very glad to see you have recovered your
-spirits: I know you have made a great effort, and I appreciate and
-admire it."
-
-"Indeed, Selina, I fear you are admiring me too soon. I own I have
-been amused this week past, and, to a certain degree, pleased; but I
-fear you'll find I shall relapse. There's been no radical reform; my
-thoughts are all in the same direction as they were."
-
-"But the great trial in this world is to behave well and becomingly
-in spite of oppressive thoughts: and it always takes a struggle to do
-that, and that struggle you've made. I hope it may lead you to feel
-that you may be contented and in comfort without having everything
-which you think necessary to your happiness. I'm sure I looked forward
-to this week as one of unmixed trouble and torment; but I was very
-wrong to do so. It has given me a great deal of unmixed satisfaction."
-
-"I'm very glad of that, Selina, but what was it? I'm sure it could not
-have come from poor Mrs Ellison, or the bishop's wife; and you seemed
-to me to spend all your time in talking to them. Virtue, they say, is
-its own reward: I don't know what other satisfaction you can have had
-from them."
-
-"In the first place, it has given me great pleasure to see that you
-were able to exert yourself in company, and that the crowd of people
-did not annoy you: but I have chiefly been delighted by seeing that you
-and Adolphus are such good friends. You must think, Fanny, that I am
-anxious about an only brother--especially when we have all had so much
-cause to be anxious about him; and don't you think it must be a delight
-to me to find that he is able to take pleasure in your society? I
-should be doubly pleased, doubly delighted, if I could please him
-myself. But I have not the vivacity to amuse him."
-
-"What nonsense, Selina! Don't say that."
-
-"But it's true, Fanny; I have not; and Grey Abbey has become
-distasteful to him because we are all sedate, steady people. Perhaps
-some would call us dull, and heavy; and I have grieved that it should
-be so, though I cannot alter my nature; but you are so much the
-contrary--there is so much in your character like his own, before he
-became fond of the world, that I feel he can become attached to and
-fond of you; and I am delighted to see that he thinks so himself. What
-do you think of him, now that you have seen more of him than you ever
-did before?"
-
-"Indeed," said Fanny, "I like him very much."
-
-"He is very clever, isn't he? He might have been anything if he had
-given himself fair play. He seems to have taken greatly to you."
-
-"Oh yes; we are great friends:" and then Fanny paused--"so great
-friends," she continued, looking somewhat gravely in Lady Selina's
-face, "that I mean to ask the greatest favour of him that I could ask
-of anyone: one I am sure I little dreamed I should ever ask of him."
-
-"What is it, Fanny? Is it a secret?"
-
-"Indeed it is, Selina; but it's a secret I will tell you. I mean to
-tell him all I feel about Lord Ballindine, and I mean to ask him to see
-him for me. Adolphus has offered to be a brother to me, and I mean to
-take him at his word."
-
-Lady Selina turned very pale, and looked very grave as she replied,
-
-"That is not giving him a brother's work, Fanny. A brother should
-protect you from importunity and insult, from injury and wrong; and
-that, I am sure, Adolphus would do: but no brother would consent to
-offer your hand to a man who had neglected you and been refused, and
-who, in all probability, would now reject you with scorn if he has the
-opportunity--or if not that, will take you for your money's sake. That,
-Fanny, is not a brother's work; and it is an embassy which I am sure
-Adolphus will not undertake. If you take my advice you will not ask
-him."
-
-As Lady Selina finished speaking she walked to the door, as if
-determined to hear no reply from her cousin; but, as she was leaving
-the room, she fancied that she heard her sobbing, and her heart
-softened, and she again turned towards her and said, "God knows, Fanny,
-I do not wish to be severe or ill-natured to you; I would do anything
-for your comfort and happiness, but I cannot bear to think that
-you should"--Lady Selina was puzzled for a word to express her
-meaning--"that you should forget yourself," and she attempted to put
-her arm round Fanny's waist.
-
-But she was mistaken; Fanny was not sobbing, but was angry; and what
-Selina now said about her forgetting herself, did not make her less so.
-
-"No," she said, withdrawing herself from her cousin's embrace and
-standing erect, while her bosom was swelling with indignation: "I
-want no affection from you, Selina, that is accompanied by so much
-disapprobation. You don't wish to be severe, only you say that I am
-likely to forget myself. Forget myself!" and Fanny threw back her
-beautiful head, and clenched her little fists by her side: "The other
-day you said 'disgrace myself', and I bore it calmly then; but I will
-not any longer bear such imputations. I tell you plainly, Selina, I
-will not forget myself, nor will I be forgotten. Nor will I submit to
-whatever fate cold, unfeeling people may doom me, merely because I am a
-woman and alone. I will not give up Lord Ballindine, if I have to walk
-to his door and tell him so. And were I to do so, I should never think
-that I had forgotten myself."
-
-"Listen to me, Fanny," said Selina.
-
-"Wait a moment," continued Fanny, "I have listened enough: it is
-my turn to speak now. For one thing I have to thank you: you have
-dispelled the idea that I could look for help to anyone in this family.
-I will not ask your brother to do anything for me which you think so
-disgraceful. I will not subject him to the scorn with which you choose
-to think my love will be treated by him who loved me so well. That you
-should dare to tell me that he who did so much for my love should now
-scorn it!--Oh, Selina, that I may live to forget that you said those
-words!" and Fanny, for a moment, put her handkerchief to her eyes--but
-it was but for a moment. "However," she continued, "I will now act for
-myself. As you think I might forget myself, I tell you I will do it in
-no clandestine way. I will write to Lord Ballindine, and I will show
-my letter to my uncle. The whole house shall read it if they please. I
-will tell Lord Ballindine all the truth--and if Lord Cashel turns me
-from his house, I shall probably find some friend to receive me, who
-may still believe that I have not forgotten myself." And Fanny Wyndham
-sailed out of the room.
-
-Lady Selina, when she saw that she was gone, sat down on the sofa and
-took her book. She tried to make herself believe that she was going to
-read; but it was no use: the tears dimmed her eyes, and she put the
-book down.
-
-The same evening the countess sent for Selina into her boudoir, and,
-with a fidgety mixture of delight and surprise, told her that she had a
-wonderful piece of good news to communicate to her.
-
-"I declare, my dear," she said, "it's the most delightful thing I've
-heard for years and years; and it's just exactly what I had planned
-myself, only I never told anybody. Dear me; it makes me so happy!"
-
-"What is it, mamma?"
-
-"Your papa has been talking to me since dinner, my love, and he tells
-me Adolphus is going to marry Fanny Wyndham."
-
-"Going to marry whom?" said Lady Selina, almost with a shout.
-
-"Fanny, I say: it's the most delightful match in the world: it's just
-what ought to be done. I suppose they won't have the wedding before
-summer; though May is a very nice month. Let me see; it only wants
-three weeks to May."
-
-"Mamma, what are you talking about?--you're dreaming."
-
-"Dreaming, my dear? I'm not dreaming at all: it's a fact. Who'd've
-thought of all this happening so soon, out of this party, which gave
-us so much trouble! However, I knew your father was right. I said all
-along that he was in the right to ask the people."
-
-"Mamma," said Lady Selina, gravely, "listen to me: calmly now, and
-attentively. I don't know what papa has told you; but I tell you Fanny
-does not dream of marrying Adolphus. He has never asked her, and if he
-did she would never accept him. Fanny is more than ever in love with
-Lord Ballindine."
-
-The countess opened her eyes wide, and looked up into her daughter's
-face, but said nothing.
-
-"Tell me, mamma, as nearly as you can recollect, what it is papa has
-said to you, that, if possible, we may prevent mischief and misery.
-Papa couldn't have said that Fanny had accepted Adolphus?"
-
-"He didn't say exactly that, my dear; but he said that it was his wish
-they should be married; that Adolphus was very eager for it, and that
-Fanny had received his attentions and admiration with evident pleasure
-and satisfaction. And so she has, my dear; you couldn't but have seen
-that yourself."
-
-"Well, mamma, what else did papa say?"
-
-"Why, he said just what I'm telling you: that I wasn't to be surprised
-if we were called on to be ready for the wedding at a short notice;
-or at any rate to be ready to congratulate Fanny. He certainly didn't
-say she had accepted him. But he said he had no doubt about it; and
-I'm sure, from what was going on last week, I couldn't have any
-doubt either. But he told me not to speak to anyone about it yet;
-particularly not to Fanny; only, my dear, I couldn't help, you know,
-talking it over with you;" and the countess leaned back in her chair,
-very much exhausted with the history she had narrated.
-
-"Now, mamma, listen to me. It is not many hours since Fanny told me she
-was unalterably determined to throw herself at Lord Ballindine's feet."
-
-"Goodness gracious me, how shocking!" said the countess.
-
-"She even said that she would ask Adolphus to be the means of bringing
-Lord Ballindine back to Grey Abbey."
-
-"Lord have mercy!" said the countess.
-
-"I only tell you this, mamma, to show you how impossible it is that
-papa should be right."
-
-"What are we to do, my dear? Oh, dear, there'll be such a piece of
-work! What a nasty thing Fanny is. I'm sure she's been making love to
-Adolphus all the week!"
-
-"No, mamma, she has not. Don't be unfair to Fanny. If there is anyone
-in fault it is Adolphus; but, as you say, what shall we do to prevent
-further misunderstanding? I think I had better tell papa the whole."
-
-And so she did, on the following morning. But she was too late; she did
-not do it till after Lord Kilcullen had offered and had been refused.
-
-
-
-
-XXXII.  HOW LORD KILCULLEN FARES IN HIS WOOING
-
-
-About twelve o'clock the same night, Lord Kilcullen and Mat Tierney
-were playing billiards, and were just finishing their last game: the
-bed-candles were lighted ready for them, and Tierney was on the point
-of making the final hazard.
-
-"So you're determined to go to-morrow, Mat?" said Kilcullen.
-
-"Oh, yes, I'll go to-morrow: your mother'll take me for a second Paddy
-Rea, else," said Mat.
-
-"Who the deuce was Paddy Rea?"
-
-"Didn't you ever hear of Paddy Rea?--Michael French of Glare
-Abbey--he's dead now, but he was alive enough at the time I'm telling
-you of, and kept the best house in county Clare--well, he was coming
-down on the Limerick coach, and met a deuced pleasant, good-looking,
-talkative sort of a fellow a-top of it. They dined and got a tumbler
-of punch together at Roscrea; and when French got down at Bird Hill,
-he told his acquaintance that if he ever found himself anywhere near
-Ennis, he'd be glad to see him at Glare Abbey. He was a hospitable sort
-of a fellow, and had got into a kind of way of saying the same thing
-to everybody, without meaning anything except to be civil--just as
-I'd wish a man good morning. Well, French thought no more about the
-man, whose name he didn't even know; but about a fortnight afterwards,
-a hack car from Ennis made its appearance at Glare Abbey, and the
-talkative traveller, and a small portmanteau, had soon found their
-way into the hail. French was a good deal annoyed, for he had some
-fashionables in the house, but he couldn't turn the man out; so he
-asked his name, and introduced Paddy Rea to the company. How long do
-you think he stayed at Glare Abbey?"
-
-"Heaven only knows!--Three months."
-
-"Seventeen years!" said Mat. "They did everything to turn him out, and
-couldn't do it. It killed old French; and at last his son pulled the
-house down, and Paddy Rea went then, because there wasn't a roof to
-cover him. Now I don't want to drive your father to pull down this
-house, so I'll go to-morrow."
-
-"The place is so ugly, that if you could make him do so, it would be an
-advantage; but I'm afraid the plan wouldn't succeed, so I won't press
-you. But if you go, I shan't remain long. If it was to save my life and
-theirs, I can't get up small talk for the rector and his curate."
-
-"Well, good night," said Mat; and the two turned off towards their
-bed-rooms.
-
-As they passed from the billiard-room through the hall, Lord Cashel
-shuffled out of his room, in his slippers and dressing-gown.
-
-"Kilcullen," said he, with a great deal of unconcerned good humour
-affected in his tone, "just give me one moment--I've a word to say to
-you. Goodnight, Mr Tierney, goodnight; I'm sorry to hear we're to lose
-you to-morrow."
-
-Lord Kilcullen shrugged his shoulders, winked at his friend and then
-turned round and followed his father.
-
-"It's only one word, Kilcullen," said the father, who was afraid of
-angering or irritating his son, now that he thought he was in so fair a
-way to obtain the heiress and her fortune. "I'll not detain you half a
-minute;" and then he said in a whisper, "take my advice, Kilcullen, and
-strike when the iron's hot."
-
-"I don't quite understand you, my lord," said his son, affecting
-ignorance of his father's meaning.
-
-"I mean, you can't stand better than you do with Fanny: you've
-certainly played your cards admirably, and she's a charming girl, a
-very charming girl, and I long to know that she's your own. Take my
-advice and ask her at once."
-
-"My lord," said the dutiful son, "if I'm to carry on this affair, I
-must be allowed to do it in my own way. You, I dare say, have more
-experience than I can boast, and if you choose to make the proposal
-yourself to Miss Wyndham on my behalf, I shall be delighted to leave
-the matter in your hands; but in that case, I shall choose to be absent
-from Grey Abbey. If you wish me to do it, you must let me do it when I
-please and how I please."
-
-"Oh, certainly, certainly, Kilcullen," said the earl; "I only want to
-point out that I think you'll gain nothing by delay."
-
-"Very well, my lord. Good night." And Lord Kilcullen went to bed, and
-the father shuffled back to his study. He had had three different
-letters that day from Lord Kilcullen's creditors, all threatening
-immediate arrest unless he would make himself responsible for his son's
-debts. No wonder that he was in a hurry, poor man!
-
-And Lord Kilcullen, though he had spoken so coolly on the subject,
-and had snubbed his father, was equally in a hurry. He also received
-letters, and threats, and warnings, and understood, even better than
-his father did, the perils which awaited him. He knew that he couldn't
-remain at Grey Abbey another week; that in a day or two it wouldn't be
-safe for him to leave the house; and that his only chance was at once
-to obtain the promise of his cousin's hand, and then betake himself to
-some place of security, till he could make her fortune available.
-
-When Fanny came into the breakfast-room next morning, he asked her
-to walk with him in the demesne after breakfast. During the whole
-of the previous evening she had sat silent and alone, pretending to
-read, although he had made two or three efforts to engage her in
-conversation. She could not, however, refuse to walk with him, nor
-could she quite forgive herself for wishing to do so. She felt that
-her sudden attachment for him was damped by what had passed between
-her and Lady Selina; but she knew, at the same time, that she was very
-unreasonable for quarrelling with one cousin for what another had said.
-She accepted his invitation, and shortly after breakfast went upstairs
-to get ready. It was a fine, bright, April morning, though the air was
-cold, and the ground somewhat damp; so she put on her boa and strong
-boots, and sallied forth with Lord Kilcullen; not exactly in a good
-humour, but still feeling that she could not justly be out of humour
-with him. At the same moment, Lady Selina knocked at her father's door,
-with the intention of explaining to him how impossible it was that
-Fanny should be persuaded to marry her brother. Poor Lord Cashel! his
-life, at that time, was certainly not a happy one.
-
-The two cousins walked some way, nearly in silence. Fanny felt very
-little inclined to talk, and even Kilcullen, with all his knowledge of
-womankind--with all his assurance, had some difficulty in commencing
-what he had to get said and done that morning.
-
-"So Grey Abbey will once more sink into its accustomed dullness," said
-he. "Cokely went yesterday, and Tierney and the Ellisons go to-day.
-Don't you dread it, Fanny?"
-
-"Oh, I'm used to it: besides, I'm one of the component elements of the
-dullness, you know. I'm a portion of the thing itself: it's you that
-must feel it."
-
-"I feel it? I suppose I shall. But, as I told you before, the physic to
-me was not nearly so nauseous as the sugar. I'm at any rate glad to get
-rid of such sweetmeats as the bishop and Mrs Ellison;" and they were
-both silent again for a while.
-
-"But you're not a portion of the heaviness of Grey Abbey, Fanny," said
-he, referring to what she had said. "You're not an element of its
-dullness. I don't say this in flattery--I trust nothing so vile as
-flattery will ever take place between us; but you know yourself that
-your nature is intended for other things; that you were not born to
-pass your life in such a house as this, without society, without
-excitement, without something to fill your mind. Fanny, you can't be
-happy here, at Grey Abbey."
-
-Happy! thought Fanny to herself. No, indeed, I'm not happy! She didn't
-say so, however; and Kilcullen, after a little while, went on speaking.
-
-"I'm sure you can't be comfortable here. You don't feel it, I dare say,
-so intolerable as I do; but still you have been out enough, enough in
-the world, to feel strongly the everlasting do-nothingness of this
-horrid place. I wonder what possesses my father, that he does not go
-to London--for your sake if for no one else's. It's not just of him to
-coop you up here."
-
-"Indeed it is, Adolphus," said she. "You mistake my character. I'm not
-at all anxious for London parties and gaiety. Stupid as you may think
-me, I'm quite as well contented to stay here as I should be to go to
-London."
-
-"Do you mean me to believe," said Kilcullen, with a gentle laugh,
-"that you are contented to live and die in single blessedness at Grey
-Abbey?--that your ambition does not soar higher than the interchange of
-worsted-work patterns with Miss O'Joscelyn?"
-
-"I did not say so, Adolphus."
-
-"What is your ambition then? what kind and style of life would you
-choose to live? Come, Fanny, I wish I could get you to talk with me
-about yourself. I wish I could teach you to believe how anxious I am
-that your future life should be happy and contented, and at the same
-time splendid and noble, as it should be. I'm sure you must have
-ambition. I have studied Lavater [47] well enough to know that such
-a head and face as yours never belonged to a mind that could satisfy
-itself with worsted-work."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 47: Lavater--Johann Kaspar Lavater (1741-1801),
-                   Swiss writer whose only widely read book was a
-                   tract on physiognomy (Physiognomische Fragmente
-                   zur Befoerderung der Menschenkenntnis und
-                   Menschenliebe). The Victorians put much stock in
-                   physiognomy.]
-
-"You are very severe on the poor worsted-work."
-
-"But am I not in the right?"
-
-"Decidedly not. Lavater, and my head and face, have misled you."
-
-"Nonsense, Fanny. Do you mean to tell me that you have no aspiration
-for a kind of life different from this you are leading?--If so, I am
-much disappointed in you; much, very much astray in my judgment of your
-character." Then he walked on a few yards, looking on the ground, and
-said, "Come, Fanny, I am talking very earnestly to you, and you answer
-me only in joke. You don't think me impertinent, do you, to talk about
-yourself?"
-
-"Impertinent, Adolphus--of course I don't."
-
-"Why won't you talk to me then, in the spirit in which I am talking to
-you? If you knew, Fanny, how interested I am about you, how anxious
-that you should be happy, how confidently I look forward to the
-distinguished position I expect you to fill--if you could guess how
-proud I mean to be of you, when you are the cynosure of all eyes--the
-admired of all admirers--admired not more for your beauty than your
-talent--if I could make you believe, Fanny, how much I expect from you,
-and how fully I trust that my expectations will be realised, you would
-not, at any rate, answer me lightly."
-
-"Adolphus," said Fanny, "I thought there was to be no flattering
-between us?"
-
-"And do you think I would flatter you? Do you think I would stoop to
-flatter you? Oh! Fanny, you don't understand me yet; you don't at all
-understand, how thoroughly from the heart I'm speaking--how much in
-earnest I am; and, so far from flattering you, I am quite as anxious
-to find fault with you as I am to praise you, could I feel that I had
-liberty to do so."
-
-"Pray do," said Fanny: "anything but flattery; for a friend never
-flatters."
-
-But Kilcullen had intended to flatter his fair cousin, and he had been
-successful. She was gratified and pleased by his warmth of affection.
-"Pray do," repeated Fanny; "I have more faults than virtues to be told
-of, and so I'm afraid you'll find out, when you know me better."
-
-"To begin, then," said Kilcullen, "are you not wrong--but no, Fanny, I
-will not torment you now with a catalogue of faults. I did not ask you
-to come out with me for that object. You are now in grief for the death
-of poor Harry"--Fanny blushed as she reflected how much more poignant
-a sorrow weighed upon her heart--"and are therefore unable to exert
-yourself; but, as soon as you are able--when you have recovered from
-this severe blow, I trust you will not be content to loiter and dawdle
-away your existence at Grey Abbey."
-
-"Not the whole of it," said Fanny.
-
-"None of it," replied her cousin. "Every month, every day, should
-have its purpose. My father has got into a dull, heartless, apathetic
-mode of life, which suits my mother and Selina, but which will never
-suit you. Grey Abbey is like the Dead Sea, of which the waters are
-always bitter as well as stagnant. It makes me miserable, dearest
-Fanny, to see you stifled in such a pool. Your beauty, talents, and
-energies--your disposition to enjoy life, and power of making it
-enjoyable for others, are all thrown away. Oh, Fanny, if I could rescue
-you from this!"
-
-"You are inventing imaginary evils," said she; "at any rate they are
-not palpable to my eyes."
-
-"That's it; that's just what I fear," said the other, "that time,
-habit, and endurance may teach you to think that nothing further is
-to be looked for in this world than vegetation at Grey Abbey, or some
-other place of the kind, to which you may be transplanted. I want to
-wake you from such a torpor; to save you from such ignominy. I wish to
-restore you to the world."
-
-"There's time enough, Adolphus; you'll see me yet the gayest of the gay
-at Almack's."
-
-"Ah! but to please me, Fanny, it must be as one of the leaders, not one
-of the led."
-
-"Oh, that'll be in years to come: in twenty years' time; when I come
-forth glorious in a jewelled turban, and yards upon yards of yellow
-satin--fat, fair, and forty. I've certainly no ambition to be one of
-the leaders yet."
-
-Lord Kilcullen walked on silent for a considerable time, during which
-Fanny went on talking about London, Almack's, and the miserable life
-of lady patronesses, till at last she also became silent, and began
-thinking of Lord Ballindine. She had, some little time since, fully
-made up her mind to open her heart to Lord Kilcullen about him, and she
-had as fully determined not to do so after what Selina had said upon
-the subject; but now she again wavered. His manner was so kind and
-affectionate, his interest in her future happiness appeared to be so
-true and unaffected: at any rate he would not speak harshly or cruelly
-to her, if she convinced him how completely her happiness depended
-on her being reconciled to Lord Ballindine. She had all but brought
-herself to the point; she had almost determined to tell him everything,
-when he stopped rather abruptly, and said,
-
-"I also am leaving Grey Abbey again, Fanny."
-
-"Leaving Grey Abbey?" said Fanny. "You told me the other day you were
-going to live here,"
-
-"So I intended; so I do intend; but still I must leave it for a while.
-I'm going about business, and I don't know how long I may be away. I go
-on Saturday."
-
-"I hope, Adolphus, you haven't quarrelled with your father," said she.
-
-"Oh, no," said he: "it is on his advice that I am going. I believe
-there is no fear of our quarrelling now. I should rather say I trust
-there is none. He not only approves of my going, but approves of what I
-am about to do before I go."
-
-"And what is that?"
-
-"I had not intended, Fanny, to say what I have to say to you for some
-time, for I feel that different circumstances make it premature. But I
-cannot bring myself to leave you without doing so;" and again he paused
-and walked on a little way in silence--"and yet," he continued, "I
-hardly know how to utter what I wish to say; or rather what I would
-wish to have said, were it not that I dread so much the answer you may
-make me. Stop, Fanny, stop a moment; the seat is quite dry; sit down
-one moment."
-
-Fanny sat down in a little alcove which they had reached, considerably
-embarrassed and surprised. She had not, however, the most remote idea
-of what he was about to say to her. Had any other man in the world,
-almost, spoken to her in the same language, she would have expected an
-offer; but from the way in which she had always regarded her cousin,
-both heretofore, when she hardly knew him, and now, when she was on
-such affectionate terms with him, she would as soon have thought of
-receiving an offer from Lord Cashel as from his son.
-
-"Fanny," he said, "I told you before that I have my father's warmest
-and most entire approval for what I am now going to do. Should I be
-successful in what I ask, he will be delighted; but I have no words to
-tell you what my own feelings will be. Fanny, dearest Fanny," and he
-sat down close beside her--"I love you better--ah! how much better,
-than all the world holds beside. Dearest, dearest Fanny, will you, can
-you, return my love?"
-
-"Adolphus," said Fanny, rising suddenly from her seat, more for the
-sake of turning round so as to look at him, than with the object of
-getting from him, "Adolphus, you are joking with me."
-
-"No, by heavens then," said he, following her, and catching her
-hand; "no man in Ireland is this moment more in earnest: no man more
-anxiously, painfully in earnest. Oh, Fanny! why should you suppose that
-I am not so? How can you think I would joke on such a subject? No: hear
-me," he said, interrupting her, as she prepared to answer him, "hear me
-out, and then you will know how truly I am in earnest."
-
-"No, not a word further!" almost shrieked Fanny--"Not a word more,
-Adolphus--not a syllable; at any rate till you have heard me. Oh, you
-have made me so miserable!" and Fanny burst into tears.
-
-"I have spoken too suddenly to you, Fanny; I should have given you more
-time--I should have waited till--"
-
-"No, no, no," said Fanny, "it is not that--but yes; what you say is
-true: had you waited but one hour--but ten minutes--I should have told
-you that which would for ever have prevented all this. I should have
-told you, Adolphus, how dearly, how unutterably I love another." And
-Fanny again sat down, hid her face in her handkerchief against the
-corner of the summer-house, and sobbed and cried as though she were
-broken-hearted: during which time Kilcullen stood by, rather perplexed
-as to what he was to say next, and beginning to be very doubtful as to
-his ultimate success.
-
-"Dear Fanny!" he said, "for both our sakes, pray try to be collected:
-all my future happiness is at this moment at stake. I did not bring
-you here to listen to what I have told you, without having become too
-painfully sure that your hand, your heart, your love, are necessary
-to my happiness. All my hopes are now at stake; but I would not, if I
-could, secure my own happiness at the expense of yours. Pray believe
-me, Fanny, when I say that I love you completely, unalterably,
-devotedly: it is necessary now for my own sake that I should say as
-much as that. Having told you so much of my own heart, let me hear what
-you wish to tell me of yours. Oh, that I might have the most distant
-gleam of hope, that it would ever return the love which fills my own!"
-
-"It cannot, Adolphus--it never can," said she, still trying to hide
-her tears. "Oh, why should this bitter misery have been added!" She
-then rose quickly from her seat, wiped her eyes, and, pushing back her
-hair, continued, "I will no longer continue to live such a life as I
-have done--miserable to myself, and the cause of misery to others.
-Adolphus,--I love Lord Ballindine. I love him with, I believe, as true
-and devoted a love as woman ever felt for a man. I valued, appreciated,
-gloried in your friendship; but I can never return your, love. My heart
-is wholly, utterly, given away; and I would not for worlds receive it
-back, till I learn from his own mouth that he has ceased to love me."
-
-"Oh, Fanny! my poor Fanny!" said Kilcullen; "if such is the case, you
-are really to be pitied. If this be true, your condition is nearly as
-unhappy as my own."
-
-"I am unhappy, very unhappy in your love," said Fanny, drawing herself
-up proudly; "but not unhappy in my own. My misery is that I should be
-the cause of trouble and unhappiness to others. I have nothing to
-regret in my own choice."
-
-"You are harsh, Fanny. It may be well that you should be decided, but
-it cannot become you also to be unfeeling. I have offered to you all
-that a man can offer; my name, my fortune, my life, my heart; though
-you may refuse me, you have no right to be offended with me."
-
-"Oh, Adolphus!" said she, now in her turn offering him her hand: "pray
-forgive me: pray do not be angry. Heaven knows I feel no offence: and
-how strongly, how sincerely, I feel the compliment you have offered me.
-But I want you to see how vain it would be in me to leave you--leave
-you in any doubt. I only spoke as I did to show you I could not think
-twice, when my heart was given to one whom I so entirely love,
-respect--and--and approve."
-
-Lord Kilcullen's face became thoughtful, and his brow grew black: he
-stood for some time irresolute what to say or do.
-
-"Let us walk on, Fanny, for this is cold and damp," he said, at last.
-
-"Let us go back to the house, then."
-
-"As you like, Fanny. Oh, how painful all this is! how doubly painful to
-know that ray own love is hopeless, and that yours is no less so. Did
-you not refuse Lord Ballindine?"
-
-"If I did, is it not sufficient that I tell you I love him? If he were
-gone past all redemption, you would not have me encourage you while I
-love another?"
-
-"I never dreamed of this! What, Fanny, what are your hopes? what is it
-you wish or intend? Supposing me, as I wish I were, fathoms deep below
-the earth, what would you do? You cannot marry Lord Ballindine."
-
-"Then I will marry no one," said Fanny, striving hard to suppress her
-tears, and barely succeeding.
-
-"Good heavens!" exclaimed Kilcullen; "what an infatuation is
-this!"--and then again he walked on silent a little way. "Have you told
-any one of this, Fanny?--do they know of it at Grey Abbey? Come, Fanny,
-speak to me: forget, if you will, that I would be your lover: remember
-me only as your cousin and your friend, and speak to me openly. Do they
-know that you have repented of the refusal you gave Lord Ballindine?"
-
-"They all know that I love him: your father, your mother, and Selina."
-
-"You don't say my father?"
-
-"Yes," said Fanny, stopping on the path, and speaking with energy, as
-she confronted her cousin. "Yes, Lord Cashel. He, above all others,
-knows it. I have told him so almost on my knees. I have implored
-him, as a child may implore her father, to bring back to me the only
-man I ever loved. I have besought him not to sacrifice me. Oh! how
-I have implored him to spare me the dreadful punishment of my own
-folly--wretchedness rather--in rejecting the man I loved. But he has
-not listened to me; he will never listen to me, and I will never ask
-again. He shall find that I am not a tree or a stone, to be planted
-or placed as he chooses. I will not again be subjected to what I have
-to-day suffered. I will not--I will not--" But Fanny was out of breath;
-and could not complete the catalogue of what she would not do.
-
-"And did you intend to tell me all this, had I not spoken to you as I
-have done?" said Kilcullen.
-
-"I did," said she. "I was on the point of telling you everything: twice
-I had intended to do so. I intended to implore you, as you loved me as
-your cousin, to use your exertions to reconcile my uncle and Lord
-Ballindine--and now instead of that--"
-
-"You find I love you too well myself?"
-
-"Oh, forget, Adolphus, forget that the words ever passed your lips.
-You have not loved me long, and therefore will not continue to love
-me, when you know I never can be yours: forget your short-lived
-love; won't you, Adolphus?"--and she put her clasped hands upon his
-breast--"forget,--let us both forget that the words were ever spoken.
-Be still my cousin, my friend, my brother; and we shall still both be
-happy."
-
-Different feelings were disturbing Lord Kilcullen's breast--different
-from each other, and some of them very different from those which
-usually found a place there. He had sought Fanny's hand not only with
-most sordid, but also with most dishonest views: he not only intended
-to marry her for her fortune, but also to rob her of her money; to
-defraud her, that he might enable himself once more to enter the world
-of pleasure, with the slight encumbrance of a wretched wife. But, in
-carrying out his plan, he had disturbed it by his own weakness: he had
-absolutely allowed himself to fall in love with his cousin; and when,
-as he had just done, he offered her his hand, he was quite as anxious
-that she should accept him for her own sake as for that of her money.
-He had taught himself to believe that she would accept him, and many
-misgivings had haunted him as to the ruined state to which he should
-bring her as his wife. But these feelings, though strong enough to
-disturb him, were not strong enough to make him pause: he tried to
-persuade himself that he could yet make her happy, and hurried on to
-the consummation of his hopes. He now felt strongly tempted to act a
-generous part; to give her up, and to bring Lord Ballindine back to her
-feet; to deserve at any rate well of her, and leave all other things to
-chance. But Lord Kilcullen was not accustomed to make such sacrifices:
-he had never learned to disregard himself; and again and again he
-turned it over in his mind--"how could he get her fortune?--was there
-any way left in which he might be successful?"
-
-"This is child's play, Fanny," he said. "You may reject me: to that I
-have nothing further to say, for I am but an indifferent wooer; but you
-can never marry Lord Ballindine."
-
-"Oh, Adolphus, for mercy's sake don't say so!"
-
-"But I do say so, Fanny. God knows, not to wound you, or for any
-unworthy purpose, but because it is so. He was your lover, and you sent
-him away; you cannot whistle him back as you would a dog."
-
-Fanny made no answer to this, but walked on towards the house, anxious
-to find herself alone in her own room, that she might compose her mind
-and think over all that she had heard and said; nor did Lord Kilcullen
-renew the conversation till he got to the house. He could not determine
-what to do. Under other circumstances it might, he felt, have been wise
-for him to wait till time had weakened Fanny's regret for her lost
-lover; but in his case this was impracticable; if he waited anywhere it
-would be in the Queen's Bench. And yet, he could not but feel that, at
-present, it was hopeless for him to push his suit.
-
-They reached the steps together, and as he opened the front door, Fanny
-turned round to wish him good morning, as she was hurrying in; but he
-stopped her, and said,
-
-"One word more, Fanny, before we part. You must not refuse me; nor must
-we part in this way. Step in here; I will not keep you a minute;" and
-he took her into a room off the hall--"do not let us be children,
-Fanny; do not let us deceive each other, or ourselves: do not let us
-persist in being irrational if we ourselves see that we are so;" and he
-paused for a reply.
-
-"Well, Adolphus?" was all she said.
-
-"If I could avoid it," continued he, "I would not hurt your feelings;
-but you must see, you must know, that you cannot marry Lord
-Ballindine."--Fanny, who was now sitting, bit her lips and clenched her
-hands, but she said nothing; "If this is so--if you feel that so far
-your fate is fixed, are you mad enough to give yourself up to a vain
-and wicked passion--for wicked it will be? Will you not rather strive
-to forget him who has forgotten you?"
-
-"That is not true," interposed Fanny.
-
-"His conduct, unfortunately, proves that it is too true," continued
-Kilcullen. "He has forgotten you, and you cannot blame him that he
-should do so, now that you have rejected him; but he neglected you even
-before you did so. Is it wise, is it decorous, is it maidenly in you,
-to indulge any longer in so vain a passion? Think of this, Fanny. As
-to myself, Heaven knows with what perfect truth, with what true love,
-I offered you, this morning, all that a man can offer: how ardently
-I hoped for an answer different from that you have now given me.
-You cannot give me your heart now; love cannot, at a moment, be
-transferred. But think, Fanny, think whether it is not better for
-you to accept an offer which your friends will all approve, and which
-I trust will never make you unhappy, than to give yourself up to a
-lasting regret,--to tears, misery, and grief."
-
-"And would you take my hand without my heart?" said she.
-
-"Not for worlds," replied the other, "were I not certain that your
-heart would follow your hand. Whoever may be your husband, you will
-love him. But ask my mother, talk to her, ask her advice; she at any
-rate will only tell you that which must be best for your own happiness.
-Go to her, Fanny; if her advice be different from mine, I will not say
-a word farther to urge my suit."
-
-"I will go to no one," said Fanny, rising. "I have gone to too many
-with a piteous story on my lips. I have no friend, now, in this house.
-I had still hoped to find one in you, but that hope is over. I am, of
-course, proud of the honour your declaration has conveyed; but I should
-be wicked indeed if I did not make you perfectly understand that it
-is one which I cannot accept. Whatever may be your views, your ideas,
-I will never marry unless I thoroughly love, and feel that I am
-thoroughly loved by my future husband. Had you not made this ill-timed
-declaration--had you not even persisted in repeating it after I had
-opened my whole heart to you, I could have loved and cherished you as
-a brother; under no circumstances could I ever have accepted you as a
-husband. Good morning." And she left him alone, feeling that he could
-have but little chance of success, should he again renew the attempt.
-
-He did not see her again till dinner-time, when she appeared silent
-and reserved, but still collected and at her ease; nor did he speak to
-her at dinner or during the evening, till the moment the ladies were
-retiring for the night. He then came up to her as she was standing
-alone turning over some things on a side-table, and said, "Fanny, I
-probably leave Grey Abbey to-morrow. I will say good bye to you
-tonight."
-
-"Good bye, Adolphus; may we both be happier when next we meet," said
-she.
-
-"My happiness, I fear, is doubtful: but I will not speak of that now.
-If I can do anything for yours before I go, I will. Fanny, I will ask
-my father to invite Lord Ballindine here. He has been anxious that we
-should be married: when I tell him that that is impossible, he may
-perhaps be induced to do so."
-
-"Do that," said Fanny, "and you will be a friend to me. Do that, and
-you will be more than a brother to me."
-
-"I will; and in doing so I shall crush every hope that I have had left
-in me."
-
-"Do not say so, Adolphus:--do not--"
-
-"You'll understand what I mean in a short time. I cannot explain
-everything to you now. But this will I do; I will make Lord Cashel
-understand that we never can be more to each other than we are now, and
-I will advise him to seek a reconciliation with Lord Ballindine. And
-now, good bye," and he held out his hand.
-
-"But I shall see you to-morrow."
-
-"Probably not; and if you do, it will be but for a moment, when I shall
-have other adieux to make."
-
-"Good bye, then, Adolphus; and may God bless you; and may we yet live
-to have many happy days together," and she shook hands with him, and
-went to her room.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIII.  LORD KILCULLEN MAKES ANOTHER VISIT TO THE BOOK-ROOM
-
-
-Lord Cashel's plans were certainly not lucky. It was not that
-sufficient care was not used in laying them, nor sufficient caution
-displayed in maturing them. He passed his time in care and caution;
-he spared no pains in seeing that the whole machinery was right; he
-was indefatigable in deliberation, diligent in manoeuvring, constant
-in attention. But, somehow, he was unlucky; his schemes were never
-successful. In the present instance he was peculiarly unfortunate, for
-everything went wrong with him. He had got rid of an obnoxious lover,
-he had coaxed over his son, he had spent an immensity of money, he had
-undergone worlds of trouble and self-restraint;--and then, when he
-really began to think that his ward's fortune would compensate him for
-this, his own family came to him, one after another, to assure him that
-he was completely mistaken--that it was utterly impossible that such
-a thing as a family marriage between the two cousins could never take
-place, and indeed, ought not to be thought of.
-
-Lady Selina gave him the first check. On the morning on which Lord
-Kilcullen made his offer, she paid her father a solemn visit in his
-book-room, and told him exactly what she had before told her mother;
-assured him that Fanny could not be induced, at any rate at present,
-to receive her cousin as her lover; whispered to him, with unfeigned
-sorrow and shame, that Fanny was still madly in love with Lord
-Ballindine; and begged him to induce her brother to postpone his offer,
-at any rate for some months.
-
-"I hate Lord Ballindine's very name," said the earl, petulant with
-irritation.
-
-"We none of us approve of him, papa: we don't think of supposing
-that he could now be a fitting husband for Fanny, or that they could
-possibly ever be married. Of course it's not to be thought of. But if
-you would advise Adolphus not to be premature, he might, in the end,
-be more successful."
-
-"Kilcullen has made his own bed and he must lie in it; I won't
-interfere between them," said the angry father.
-
-"But if you were only to recommend delay," suggested the daughter; "a
-few months' delay; think how short a time Harry Wyndham has been dead!"
-
-Lord Cashel knew that delay was death in this case, so he pished, and
-hummed, and hawed; quite lost the dignity on which he piqued himself,
-and ended by declaring that he would not interfere; that they might do
-as they liked; that young people would not be guided, and that he would
-not make himself unhappy about them. And so, Lady Selina, crestfallen
-and disappointed, went away.
-
-Then, Lady Cashel, reflecting on what her daughter had told her, and
-yet anxious that the marriage should, if possible, take place at some
-time or other, sent Griffiths down to her lord, with a message--"Would
-his lordship be kind enough to step up-stairs to her ladyship?" Lord
-Cashel went up, and again had all the difficulties of the case opened
-out before him.
-
-"But you see," said her ladyship, "poor Fanny--she's become so
-unreasonable--I don't know what's come to her--I'm sure I do everything
-I can to make her happy: but I suppose if she don't like to marry,
-nobody can make her."
-
-"Make her?--who's talking of making her?" said the earl.
-
-"No, of course not," continued the countess; "that's just what Selina
-says; no one can make her do anything, she's got so obstinate, of late:
-but it's all that horrid Lord Ballindine, and those odious horses. I'm
-sure I don't know what business gentlemen have to have horses at all;
-there's never any good comes of it. There's Adolphus--he's had the good
-sense to get rid of his, and yet Fanny's so foolish, she'd sooner have
-that other horrid man--and I'm sure he's not half so good-looking, nor
-a quarter so agreeable as Adolphus."
-
-All these encomiums on his son, and animadversions on Lord Ballindine,
-were not calculated to put the earl into a good humour; he was heartily
-sick of the subject; thoroughly repented that he had not allowed his
-son to ruin himself in his own way; detested the very name of Lord
-Ballindine, and felt no very strong affection for his poor innocent
-ward. He accordingly made his wife nearly the same answer he had made
-his daughter, and left her anything but comforted by the visit.
-
-It was about eleven o'clock on the same evening, that Lord Kilcullen,
-after parting with Fanny, opened the book-room door. He had been quite
-sincere in what he had told her. He had made up his mind entirely to
-give over all hopes of marrying her himself, and to tell his father
-that the field was again open for Lord Ballindine, as far as he was
-concerned.
-
-There is no doubt that he would not have been noble enough to do this,
-had he thought he had himself any chance of being successful; but still
-there was something chivalrous in his resolve, something magnanimous in
-his determination to do all he could for the happiness of her he really
-loved, when everything in his own prospects was gloomy, dark, and
-desperate. As he entered his father's room, feeling that it would
-probably be very long before he should be closeted with him again, he
-determined that he would not quietly bear reproaches, and even felt a
-source of satisfaction in the prospect of telling his father that their
-joint plans were overturned--their schemes completely at an end.
-
-"I'm disturbing you, my lord, I'm afraid," said the son, walking into
-the room, not at all with the manner of one who had any hesitation at
-causing the disturbance.
-
-"Who's that?" said the earl--"Adolphus?--no--yes. That is, I'm just
-going to bed; what is it you want?" The earl had been dozing after all
-the vexations of the day.
-
-"To tell the truth, my lord, I've a good deal that I wish to say: will
-it trouble you to listen to me?"
-
-"Won't to-morrow morning do?"
-
-"I shall leave Grey Abbey early to-morrow, my lord; immediately after
-breakfast."
-
-"Good heavens, Kilcullen! what do you mean? You're not going to run off
-to London again?"
-
-"A little farther than that, I'm afraid, will be necessary," said the
-son. "I have offered to Miss Wyndham--have been refused--and, having
-finished my business at Grey Abbey, your lordship will probably think
-that in leaving it I shall be acting with discretion."
-
-"You have offered to Fanny and been refused!"
-
-"Indeed I have; finally and peremptorily refused. Not only that: I have
-pledged my word to my cousin that I will never renew my suit."
-
-The earl sat speechless in his chair--so much worse was this
-catastrophe even than his expectations. Lord Kilcullen continued.
-
-"I hope, at any rate, you are satisfied with me. I have not only
-implicitly obeyed your directions, but I have done everything in
-my power to accomplish what you wished. Had my marriage with my
-cousin been a project of my own, I could not have done more for its
-accomplishment. Miss Wyndham's affections are engaged; and she will
-never, I am sure, marry one man while she loves another."
-
-"Loves another--psha!" roared the earl. "Is this to be the end of it
-all? After your promises to me--after your engagement! After such an
-engagement, sir, you come to me and talk about a girl loving another?
-Loving another! Will her loving another pay your debts?"
-
-"Exactly the reverse, my lord," said the son. "I fear it will
-materially postpone their payment."
-
-"Well, sir," said the earl. He did not exactly know how to commence the
-thunder of indignation with which he intended to annihilate his son,
-for certainly Kilcullen had done the best in his power to complete the
-bargain. But still the storm could not be stayed, unreasonable as it
-might be for the earl to be tempestuous on the occasion. "Well, sir,"
-and he stood up from his chair, to face his victim, who was still
-standing--and, thrusting his hands into his trowsers' pockets, frowned
-awfully--"Well, sir; am I to be any further favoured with your plans?"
-
-"I have none, my lord," said Kilcullen; "I am again ready to listen to
-yours."
-
-"My plans?--I have no further plans to offer for you. You are ruined,
-utterly ruined: you have done your best to ruin me and your mother; I
-have pointed out to you, I arranged for you, the only way in which your
-affairs could be redeemed; I made every thing easy for you."
-
-"No, my lord: you could not make it easy for me to get my cousin's
-love."
-
-"Don't contradict me, sir. I say I did. I made every thing straight
-and easy for you: and now you come to me with a whining story about a
-girl's love! What's her love to me, sir? Where am I to get my thirty
-thousand pounds, sir?--and my note of hand is passed for as much more,
-at this time twelve-month! Where am I to raise that, sir? Do you
-remember that you have engaged to repay me these sums?--do you remember
-that, or have such trifles escaped your recollection?"
-
-"I remember perfectly well, my lord, that if I married my cousin,
-you were to repay yourself those sums out of her fortune. But I also
-remember, and so must you, that I beforehand warned you that I thought
-she would refuse me."
-
-"Refuse you," said the earl, with a contortion of his nose and lips
-intended to convey unutterable scorn; "of course she refused you, when
-you asked her as a child would ask for an apple, or a cake! What else
-could you expect?"
-
-"I hardly think your lordship knows--"
-
-"Don't you hardly think?--then I do know; and know well too. I know you
-have deceived me, grossly deceived me--induced me to give you money--to
-incur debts, with which I never would have burdened myself had I not
-believed you were sincere in your promise. But you have deceived me,
-sir--taken me in; for by heaven it's no better!--it's no better than
-downright swindling--and that from a son to his father! But it's for
-the last time; not a penny more do you get from me: you can ruin the
-property; indeed, I believe you have; but, for your mother's and
-sister's sake, I'll keep till I die what little you have left me."
-
-Lord Cashel had worked himself up into a perfect frenzy, and was
-stamping about the room as he uttered this speech; but, as he came to
-the end of it, he threw himself into his chair again, and buried his
-face in his hands.
-
-Lord Kilcullen was standing with his back resting against the
-mantel-piece, with a look of feigned indifference on his face, which
-he tried hard to maintain. But his brow became clouded, and he bit his
-lips when his father accused him of swindling; and he was just about to
-break forth into a torrent of recrimination, when Lord Cashel turned
-off into a pathetic strain, and Kilcullen thought it better to leave
-him there.
-
-"What I'm to do, I don't know; what I am to do, I do not know!" said
-the earl, beating the table with one hand, and hiding his face with
-the other. "Sixty thousand pounds in one year; and that after so many
-drains!--And there's only my own life--there's only my own life!"--and
-then there was a pause for four or five minutes, during which Lord
-Kilcullen took snuff, poked the fire, and then picked up a newspaper,
-as though he were going to read it. This last was too much for the
-father, and he again roared out, "Well, sir, what are you standing
-there for? If you've nothing else to say; why don't you go? I've done
-with you--you can not get more out of me, I promise you!"
-
-"I've a good deal to say before I go, my lord," said Kilcullen. "I was
-waiting till you were disposed to listen to me. I've a good deal to
-say, indeed, which you must hear; and I trust, therefore, you will
-endeavour to be cool, whatever your opinions may be about my conduct."
-
-"Cool?--no, sir, I will not be cool. You're too cool yourself!"
-
-"Cool enough for both, you think, my lord."
-
-"Kilcullen," said the earl, "you've neither heart nor principle: you
-have done your worst to ruin me, and now you come to insult me in my
-own room. Say what you want to say, and then leave me."
-
-"As to insulting language, my lord, I think you need not complain, when
-you remember that you have just called me a swindler, because I have
-been unable to accomplish your wish and my own, by marrying my cousin.
-However, I will let that pass. I have done the best I could to gain
-that object. I did more than either of us thought it possible that I
-should do, when I consented to attempt it. I offered her my hand, and
-assured her of my affection, without falsehood or hypocrisy. My bargain
-was that I should offer to her. I have done more than that, for I have
-loved her. I have, however, been refused, and in such a manner as
-to convince me that it would be useless for me to renew my suit. If
-your lordship will allow me to advise you on such a subject, I would
-suggest that you make no further objection to Fanny's union with Lord
-Ballindine. For marry him she certainly will."
-
-"What, sir?" again shouted Lord Cashel.
-
-"I trust Fanny will receive no further annoyance on the subject. She
-has convinced me that her own mind is thoroughly made up; and she is
-not the person to change her mind on such a subject."
-
-"And haven't you enough on hand in your own troubles, but what you must
-lecture me about my ward?--Is it for that you have come to torment me
-at this hour? Had not you better at once become her guardian yourself,
-sir, and manage the matter in your own way?"
-
-"I promised Fanny I would say as much to you. I will not again mention
-her name unless you press me to do so."
-
-"That's very kind," said the earl.
-
-"And now, about myself. I think your lordship will agree with me that
-it is better that I should at once leave Grey Abbey, when I tell you
-that, if I remain here, I shall certainly be arrested before the
-week is over, if I am found outside the house. I do not wish to have
-bailiffs knocking at your lordship's door, and your servants instructed
-to deny me."
-
-"Upon my soul, you are too good."
-
-"At any rate," said Kilcullen, "you'll agree with me that this is no
-place for me to remain in."
-
-"You're quite at liberty to go," said the earl. "You were never very
-ceremonious with regard to me; pray don't begin to be so now. Pray
-go--to-night if you like. Your mother's heart will be broken, that's
-all."
-
-"I trust my mother will be able to copy your lordship's indifference."
-
-"Indifference! Is sixty thousand pounds in one year, and more than
-double within three or four, indifference? I have paid too much to be
-indifferent. But it is hopeless to pay more. I have no hope for you;
-you are ruined, and I couldn't redeem you even if I would. I could not
-set you free and tell you to begin again, even were it wise to do so;
-and therefore I tell you to go. And now, good night; I have not another
-word to say to you," and the earl got up as if to leave the room.
-
-"Stop, my lord, you must listen to me," said Kilcullen.
-
-"Not a word further. I have heard enough;" and he put out the candles
-on the book-room table, having lighted a bed candle which he held in
-his hand.
-
-"Pardon me, my lord," continued the son, standing just before his
-father, so as to prevent his leaving the room; "pardon me, but you must
-listen to what I have to say."
-
-"Not another word--not another word. Leave the door, sir, or I will
-ring for the servants to open it."
-
-"Do so," said Kilcullen, "and they also shall hear what I have to say.
-I am going to leave you to-morrow, perhaps for ever; and you will not
-listen to the last word I wish to speak to you?"
-
-"I'll stay five minutes," said the earl, taking out his watch, "and
-then I'll go; and if you attempt again to stop me, I'll ring the bell
-for the servants."
-
-"Thank you, my lord, for the five minutes; it will be time enough. I
-purpose leaving Grey Abbey to-morrow, and I shall probably be in France
-in three days' time. When there, I trust I shall cease to trouble you;
-but I cannot, indeed I will not go, without funds to last me till I can
-make some arrangement. Your lordship must give me five hundred pounds.
-I have not the means even of carrying myself from hence to Calais."
-
-"Not one penny. Not one penny--if it were to save you from the gaol
-to-morrow! This is too bad!" and the earl again walked to the door,
-against which Lord Kilcullen leaned his back. "By Heaven, sir, I'll
-raise the house if you think to frighten me by violence!"
-
-"I'll use no violence, but you must hear the alternative: if you please
-it, the whole house shall hear it too. If you persist in refusing the
-small sum I now ask--"
-
-"I will not give you one penny to save you from gaol. Is that plain?"
-
-"Perfectly plain, and very easy to believe. But you will give more than
-a penny; you would even give more than I ask, to save yourself from the
-annoyance you will have to undergo."
-
-"Not on any account will I give you one single farthing."
-
-"Very well. Then I have only to tell you what I must do. Of course, I
-shall remain here. You cannot turn me out of your house, or refuse me a
-seat at your table."
-
-"By Heavens, though, I both can and will!"
-
-"You cannot, my lord. If you think of it, you'll find you cannot,
-without much disagreeable trouble. An eldest son would be a very
-difficult tenant to eject summarily: and of my own accord I will not go
-without the money I ask."
-
-"By heavens, this exceeds all I ever heard. Would you rob your own
-father?"
-
-"I will not rob him, but I'll remain in his house. The sheriff's
-officers, doubtless, will hang about the doors, and be rather
-troublesome before the windows; but I shall not be the first Irish
-gentleman that has remained at home upon his keeping. And, like other
-Irish gentlemen, I will do so rather than fall into the hands of these
-myrmidons. I have no wish to annoy you; I shall be most sorry to do so;
-most sorry to subject my mother to the misery which must attend the
-continual attempts which will be made to arrest me; but I will not put
-my head into the lion's jaw."
-
-"This is the return for what I have done for him!" ejaculated the earl,
-in his misery. "Unfortunate reprobate! unfortunate reprobate!--that I
-should be driven to wish that he was in gaol!"
-
-"Your wishing so won't put me there, my lord. If it would I should not
-be weak enough to ask you for this money. Do you mean to comply with my
-request?"
-
-"I do not, sir: not a penny shall you have--not one farthing more shall
-you get from me."
-
-"Then good night, my lord. I grieve that I should have to undergo a
-siege in your lordship's house, more especially as it is likely to be a
-long one. In a week's time there will be a '_ne exeat_' [48] issued
-against me, and then it will be too late for me to think of France."
-And so saying, the son retired to his own room, and left the father to
-consider what he had better do in his distress.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 48: ne exeat--(Latin) "let him not leave"; a legal
-                   writ forbidding a person to leave the jurisdiction
-                   of the court]
-
-Lord Cashel was dreadfully embarrassed. What Lord Kilcullen said was
-perfectly true; an eldest son was a most difficult tenant to eject; and
-then, the ignominy of having his heir arrested in his own house, or
-detained there by bailiffs lurking round the premises! He could not
-determine whether it would be more painful to keep his son, or to give
-him up. If he did the latter, he would be driven to effect it by a most
-disagreeable process. He would have to assist the officers of the law
-in their duty, and to authorise them to force the doors locked by his
-son. The prospect, either way, was horrid. He would willingly give the
-five hundred pounds to be rid of his heir, were it not for his word's
-sake, or rather his pride's sake. He had said he would not, and, as he
-walked up and down the room he buttoned up his breeches pocket, and
-tried to resolve that, come what come might, he would not expedite his
-son's departure by the outlay of one shilling.
-
-The candles had been put out, and the gloom of the room was only
-lightened by a single bed-room taper, which, as it stood near the door,
-only served to render palpable the darkness of the further end of the
-chamber. For half an hour Lord Cashel walked to and fro, anxious,
-wretched, and in doubt, instead of going to his room. How he wished
-that Lord Ballindine had married his ward, and taken her off six months
-since!--all this trouble would not then have come upon him. And as he
-thought of the thirty thousand pounds that he had spent, and the thirty
-thousand more that he must spend, he hurried on with such rapidity that
-in the darkness he struck his shin violently against some heavy piece
-of furniture, and, limping back to the candlestick, swore through his
-teeth--"No, not a penny, were it to save him from perdition! I'll see
-the sheriff's officer. I'll see the sheriff himself, and tell him that
-every door in the house--every closet--every cellar, shall be open to
-him. My house shall enable no one to defy the law." And, with this
-noble resolve, to which, by the bye, the blow on his shin greatly
-contributed, Lord Cashel went to bed, and the house was at rest.
-
-About nine o'clock on the following morning Lord Kilcullen was still in
-bed, but awake. His servant had been ordered to bring him hot water,
-and he was seriously thinking of getting up, and facing the troubles
-of the day, when a very timid knock at the door announced to him that
-some stranger was approaching. He adjusted his nightcap, brought the
-bed-clothes up close to his neck, and on giving the usual answer to a
-knock at the door, saw a large cap introduce itself, the head belonging
-to which seemed afraid to follow.
-
-"Who's that?" he called out.
-
-"It's me, my lord," said the head, gradually following the cap.
-"Griffiths, my lord."
-
-"Well?"
-
-"Lady Selina, my lord; her ladyship bids me give your lordship her
-love, and would you see her ladyship for five minutes before you get
-up?"
-
-Lord Kilcullen having assented to this proposal, the cap and head
-retired. A second knock at the door was soon given, and Lady Selina
-entered the room, with a little bit of paper in her hand.
-
-"Good morning, Adolphus," said the sister.
-
-"Good morning, Selina," said the brother. "It must be something very
-particular, which brings you here at this hour."
-
-"It is indeed, something very particular. I have been with papa this
-morning, Adolphus: he has told me of the interview between you last
-night."
-
-"Well."
-
-"Oh, Adolphus! he is very angry--he's--"
-
-"So am I, Selina. I am very angry, too;--so we're quits. We laid a plan
-together, and we both failed, and each blames the other; so you need
-not tell me anything further about his anger. Did he send any message
-to me?"
-
-"He did. He told me I might give you this, if I would undertake that
-you left Grey Abbey to-day:" and Lady Selina held up, but did not give
-him, the bit of paper.
-
-"What a dolt he is."
-
-"Oh, Adolphus!" said Selina, "don't speak so of your father."
-
-"So he is: how on earth can you undertake that I shall leave the
-house?"
-
-"I can ask you to give me your word that you will do so; and I can take
-back the check if you refuse," said Lady Selina, conceiving it utterly
-impossible that one of her own family could break his word.
-
-"Well, Selina, I'll answer you fairly. If that bit of paper is a cheque
-for five hundred pounds, I will leave this place in two hours. If it is
-not--"
-
-"It is," said Selina. "It is a cheque for five hundred pounds, and I
-may then give it to you?"
-
-"I thought as much," said Lord Kilcullen; "I thought he'd alter his
-mind. Yes, you may give it me, and tell my father I'll dine in London
-to-morrow evening."
-
-"He says, Adolphus, he'll not see you before you go."
-
-"Well, there's comfort in that, anyhow."
-
-"Oh, Adolphus! how can you speak in that manner now?--how can you speak
-in that wicked, thoughtless, reckless manner?" said his sister.
-
-"Because I'm a wicked, thoughtless, reckless man, I suppose. I didn't
-mean to vex you, Selina; but my father is so pompous, so absurd, and so
-tedious. In the whole of this affair I have endeavoured to do exactly
-as he would have me; and he is more angry with me now, because his plan
-has failed, than he ever was before, for any of my past misdoings.--But
-let me get up now, there's a good girl; for I've no time to lose."
-
-"Will you see your mother before you go, Adolphus?"
-
-"Why, no; it'll be no use--only tormenting her. Tell her something, you
-know; anything that won't vex her."
-
-"But I cannot tell her anything about you that will not vex her."
-
-"Well, then, say what will vex her least. Tell her--tell her. Oh, you
-know what to tell her, and I'm sure I don't."
-
-"And Fanny: will you see her again?"
-
-"No," said Kilcullen. "I have bid her good bye. But give her my kindest
-love, and tell her that I did what I told her I would do."
-
-"She told me what took place between you yesterday."
-
-"Why, Selina, everybody tells you everything! And now, I'll tell you
-something. If you care for your cousin's happiness, do not attempt to
-raise difficulties between her and Lord Ballindine. And now, I must say
-good bye to you. I'll have my breakfast up here, and go directly down
-to the yard. Good bye, Selina; when I'm settled I'll write to you, and
-tell you where I am."
-
-"Good bye, Adolphus; God bless you, and enable you yet to retrieve your
-course. I'm afraid it is a bad one;" and she stooped down and kissed
-her brother.
-
-He was as good as his word. In two hours' time he had left Grey Abbey.
-He dined that day in Dublin, the next in London, and the third in
-Boulogne; and the sub-sheriff of County Kildare in vain issued
-half-a-dozen writs for his capture.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIV.  THE DOCTOR MAKES A CLEAN BREAST OF IT
-
-
-We will now return for a while to Dunmore, and settle the affairs of
-the Kellys and Lynches, which we left in rather a precarious state.
-
-Barry's attempt on Doctor Colligan's virtue was very unsuccessful, for
-Anty continued to mend under the treatment of that uncouth but safe son
-of Galen. As Colligan told her brother, the fever had left her, though
-for some time it was doubtful whether she had strength to recover from
-its effects. This, however, she did gradually; and, about a fortnight
-after the dinner at Dunmore House, the doctor told Mrs Kelly and Martin
-that his patient was out of danger.
-
-Martin had for some time made up his mind that Anty was to live for
-many years in the character of Mrs Martin, and could not therefore be
-said to be much affected by the communication. But if he was not, his
-mother was. She had made up her mind that Anty was to die; that she
-was to pay for the doctor--the wake, and the funeral, and that she
-would have a hardship and grievance to boast of, and a subject of
-self-commendation to enlarge on, which would have lasted her till her
-death; and she consequently felt something like disappointment at being
-ordered to administer to Anty a mutton chop and a glass of sherry every
-day at one o'clock. Not that the widow was less assiduous, or less
-attentive to Anty's wants now that she was convalescent; but she
-certainly had not so much personal satisfaction, as when she was able
-to speak despondingly of her patient to all her gossips.
-
-"Poor cratur!" she used to say--"it's all up with her now; the Lord be
-praised for all his mercies. She's all as one as gone, glory be to God
-and the Blessed Virgin. Shure no good ever come of ill-got money;--not
-that she was iver to blame. Thank the Lord, av' I have a penny saved at
-all, it was honestly come by; not that I shall have when this is done
-and paid for, not a stifle; (stiver [49] Mrs Kelly probably meant)--but
-what's that!" and she snapped her fingers to show that the world's gear
-was all dross in her estimation.--"She shall be dacently sthretched,
-though she is a Lynch, and a Kelly has to pay for it. Whisper,
-neighbour; in two years' time there'll not be one penny left on another
-of all the dirthy money Sim Lynch scraped together out of the
-gutthers."
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 49: stiver--a Dutch coin worth almost nothing]
-
-There was a degree of triumph in these lamentations, a tone of
-self-satisfied assurance in the truth of her melancholy predictions,
-which showed that the widow was not ill at ease with herself. When Anty
-was declared out of danger, her joy was expressed with much more
-moderation.
-
-"Yes, thin," she said to Father Pat Geoghegan, "poor thing, she's
-rallying a bit. The docthor says maybe she'll not go this time; but
-he's much in dread of a re-claps--"
-
-"Relapse, Mrs Kelly, I suppose?"
-
-"Well, relapse, av' you will, Father Pat--relapse or reclaps, it's
-pretty much the same I'm thinking; for she'd niver get through another
-bout. God send we may be well out of the hobble this day twelvemonth.
-Martin's my own son, and ain't above industhrying, as his father and
-mother did afore him, and I won't say a word agin him; but he's brought
-more throuble on me with them Lynches than iver I knew before. What has
-a lone woman like me, Father Pat, to do wid sthrangers like them? jist
-to turn their backs on me when I ain't no furder use, and to be gitting
-the hights of insolence and abuse, as I did from that blagguard Barry.
-He'd betther keep his toe in his pump and go asy, or he'll wake to a
-sore morning yet, some day."
-
-Doctor Colligan, also, was in trouble from his connection with the
-Lynches: not that he had any dissatisfaction at the recovery of his
-patient, for he rejoiced at it, both on her account and his own. He had
-strongly that feeling of self-applause, which must always be enjoyed by
-a doctor who brings a patient safely through a dangerous illness. But
-Barry's iniquitous proposal to him weighed heavy on his conscience. It
-was now a week since it had been made, and he had spoken of it to no
-one. He had thought much and frequently of what he ought to do; whether
-he should publicly charge Lynch with the fact; whether he should tell
-it confidentially to some friend whom he could trust; or whether--by
-far the easiest alternative, he should keep it in his own bosom, and
-avoid the man in future as he would an incarnation of the devil. It
-preyed much upon his spirits, for he lived in fear of Barry Lynch--in
-fear lest he should determine to have the first word, and, in his
-own defence, accuse him (Colligan) of the very iniquity which he had
-himself committed. Nothing, the doctor felt, would be too bad or too
-false for Barry Lynch; nothing could be more damnable than the proposal
-he had made; and yet it would be impossible to convict him, impossible
-to punish him. He would, of course, deny the truth of the accusation,
-and probably return the charge on his accuser. And yet Colligan felt
-that he would be compromising the matter, if he did not mention it to
-some one; and that he would outrage his own feelings if he did not
-express his horror at the murder which he had been asked to commit.
-
-For one week these feelings quite destroyed poor Colligan's peace
-of mind; during the second, he determined to make a clean breast
-of it; and, on the first day of the third week, after turning in
-his mind twenty different people--Martin Kelly--young Daly--the
-widow--the parish priest--the parish parson--the nearest stipendiary
-magistrate--and a brother doctor in Tuam, he at last determined on
-going to Lord Ballindine, as being both a magistrate and a friend of
-the Kellys. Doctor Colligan himself was not at all acquainted with Lord
-Ballindine: he attended none of the family, who extensively patronised
-his rival, and he had never been inside Kelly's Court house. He felt,
-therefore, considerable embarrassment at his mission; but he made up
-his mind to go, and, manfully setting himself in his antique rickety
-gig, started early enough, to catch Lord Ballindine, as he thought,
-before he left the house after breakfast.
-
-Lord Ballindine had spent the last week or ten days restlessly enough.
-Armstrong, his clerical ambassador, had not yet started on his mission
-to Grey Abbey, and innumerable difficulties seemed to arise to prevent
-his doing so. First of all, the black cloth was to be purchased, and
-a tailor, sufficiently adept for making up the new suit, was to be
-caught. This was a work of some time; for though there is in the West
-of Ireland a very general complaint of the stagnation of trade, trade
-itself is never so stagnant as are the tradesmen, when work, is to be
-done; and it is useless for a poor wight to think of getting his coat
-or his boots, till such time as absolute want shall have driven the
-artisan to look for the price of his job--unless some private and
-underhand influence be used, as was done in the case of Jerry Blake's
-new leather breeches.
-
-This cause of delay was, however, not mentioned to Lord Ballindine; but
-when it was well got over, and a neighbouring parson procured to preach
-on the next Sunday to Mrs O'Kelly and the three policemen who attended
-Ballindine Church, Mrs Armstrong broke her thumb with the rolling-pin
-while making a beef pudding for the family dinner, and her husband's
-departure was again retarded. And then, on the next Sunday, the
-neighbouring parson could not leave his own policemen, and the two
-spinsters, who usually formed his audience.
-
-All this tormented Lord Ballindine. and he was really thinking of
-giving up the idea of sending Mr Armstrong altogether, when he received
-the following letter from his friend Dot Blake.
-
-
-   Limmer's Hotel. April, 1847.
-
-   Dear Frank,
-
-   One cries out, "what are you at?" the other, "what are you after?"
-   Every one is saying what a fool you are! Kilcullen is at Grey Abbey,
-   with the evident intention of superseding you in possession of Miss
-   W----, and, what is much more to his taste, as it would be to mine,
-   of her fortune. Mr T. has written to me _from Grey Abbey_, where he
-   has been staying: he is a good-hearted fellow, and remembers how
-   warmly you contradicted the report that your match was broken off.
-   For heaven's sake, follow up your warmth of denial with some show of
-   positive action, a little less cool than your present quiescence, or
-   you cannot expect that any amount of love should be strong enough
-   to prevent your affianced from resenting your conduct. I am doubly
-   anxious; quite as anxious that Kilcullen, whom I detest, should not
-   get young Wyndham's money, as I am that you should. He is utterly,
-   _utterly_ smashed. If he got double the amount of Fanny Wyndham's
-   cash, it could not keep him above water for more than a year or so;
-   and then she must go down with him. I am sure the old fool, his
-   father, does not half know the amount of his son's liabilities, or
-   he could not be heartless enough to consent to sacrifice the poor
-   girl as she will be sacrificed, if Kilcullen gets her. I am not
-   usually very anxious about other people's concerns; but I do feel
-   anxious about this matter. I want to have a respectable house in the
-   country, in which I can show my face when I grow a little older, and
-   be allowed to sip my glass of claret, and talk about my horses, in
-   spite of my iniquitous propensities--and I expect to be allowed to
-   do so at Kelly's Court. But, if you let Miss Wyndham slip through
-   your fingers, you won't have a house over your head in a few years'
-   time, much less a shelter to offer a friend. For God's sake, start
-   for Grey Abbey at once. Why, man alive, the ogre can't eat you!
-
-   The whole town is in the devil of a ferment about Brien. Of course
-   you heard the rumour, last week, of his heels being cracked? Some
-   of the knowing boys want to get out of the trap they are in; and,
-   despairing of bringing the horse down in the betting by fair means,
-   got a boy out of Scott's stables to swear to the fact. I went down
-   at once to Yorkshire, and published a letter in _Bell's Life_ last
-   Saturday, stating that he is all right. This you have probably seen.
-   You will be astonished to hear it, but I believe Lord Tattenham
-   Corner got the report spread. For heaven's sake don't mention this,
-   particularly not as coming from me. They say that if Brien does the
-   trick, he will lose more than he has made these three years, and I
-   believe he will. He is nominally at 4 to 1; but you can't get 4 to
-   anything like a figure from a safe party.
-
-   For heaven's sake go to Grey Abbey, and at once.
-
-   Always faithfully,
-
-   W. BLAKE.
-
-
-This letter naturally increased Lord Ballindine's uneasiness, and he
-wrote a note to Mr Armstrong, informing him that he would not trouble
-him to go at all, unless he could start the next day. Indeed, that he
-should then go himself, if Mr Armstrong did not do so.
-
-This did not suit Mr Armstrong. He had made up his mind to go; he could
-not well return the twenty pounds he had received, nor did he wish to
-forego the advantage which might arise from the trip. So he told his
-wife to be very careful about her thumb, made up his mind to leave
-the three policemen for once without spiritual food, and wrote to
-Lord Ballindine to say that he would be with him the next morning,
-immediately after breakfast, on his road to catch the mail-coach at
-Ballyglass.
-
-He was as good as his word, or rather better; for he breakfasted at
-Kelly's Court, and induced Lord Ballindine to get into his own gig, and
-drive him as far as the mail-coach road.
-
-"But you'll be four or five hours too soon," said Frank; "the coach
-doesn't pass Ballyglass till three."
-
-"I want to see those cattle of Rutledge's. I'll stay there, and maybe
-get a bit of luncheon; it's not a bad thing to be provided for the
-road."
-
-"I'll tell you what, though," said Frank. "I want to go to Tuam, so you
-might as well get the coach there; and if there's time to spare, you
-can pay your respects to the bishop."
-
-It was all the same to Mr Armstrong, and the two therefore started
-for Tuam together. They had not, however, got above half way down
-the avenue, when they saw another gig coming towards them; and,
-after sundry speculations as to whom it might contain, Mr Armstrong
-pronounced the driver to be "that dirty gallipot, Colligan."
-
-It was Colligan; and, as the two gigs met in the narrow road, the
-dirty gallipot took off his hat, and was very sorry to trouble Lord
-Ballindine, but had a few words to say to him on very important and
-pressing business.
-
-Lord Ballindine touched his hat, and intimated that he was ready to
-listen, but gave no signs of getting out of his gig.
-
-"My lord," said Colligan, "it's particularly important, and if you
-could, as a magistrate, spare me five minutes."
-
-"Oh, certainly, Mr Colligan," said Frank; "that is, I'm rather
-hurried--I may say very much hurried just at present. But still--I
-suppose there's no objection to Mr Armstrong hearing what you have to
-say?"
-
-"Why, my lord," said Colligan, "I don't know. Your lordship can judge
-yourself afterwards; but I'd rather--"
-
-"Oh, I'll get down," said the parson. "I'll just take a walk among the
-trees: I suppose the doctor won't be long?"
-
-"If you wouldn't mind getting into my buggy, and letting me into his
-lordship's gig, you could be following us on, Mr Armstrong," suggested
-Colligan.
-
-This suggestion was complied with. The parson and the doctor changed
-places; and the latter, awkwardly enough, but with perfect truth,
-whispered his tale into Lord Ballindine's ear.
-
-At first, Frank had been annoyed at the interruption; but, as he
-learned the cause of it, he gave his full attention to the matter, and
-only interrupted the narrator by exclamations of horror and disgust.
-
-When Doctor Colligan had finished, Lord Ballindine insisted on
-repeating the whole affair to Mr Armstrong. "I could not take upon
-myself," said he, "to advise you what to do; much less to tell you what
-you should do. There is only one thing clear; you cannot let things
-rest as they are. Armstrong is a man of the world, and will know what
-to do; you cannot object to talking the matter over with him."
-
-Colligan consented: and Armstrong, having been summoned, drove the
-doctor's buggy up alongside of Lord Ballindine's gig.
-
-"Armstrong," said Frank, "I have just heard the most horrid story that
-ever came to my ears. That wretch, Barry Lynch, has tried to induce
-Doctor Colligan to poison his sister!"
-
-"What!" shouted Armstrong; "to poison his sister?"
-
-"Gently, Mr Armstrong; pray don't speak so loud, or it'll be all
-through the country in no time."
-
-"Poison his sister!" repeated Armstrong. "Oh, it'll hang him! There's
-no doubt it'll hang him! Of course you'll take the doctor's
-information?"
-
-"But the doctor hasn't tendered me any information," said Frank,
-stopping his horse, so that Armstrong was able to get close up to his
-elbow.
-
-"But I presume it is his intention to do so?" said the parson.
-
-"I should choose to have another magistrate present then," said Frank.
-"Really, Doctor Colligan, I think the best thing you can do is to come
-before myself and the stipendiary magistrate at Tuam. We shall be sure
-to find Brew at home to-day."
-
-"But, my lord," said Colligan, "I really had no intention of doing
-that. I have no witnesses. I can prove nothing. Indeed, I can't say he
-ever asked me to do the deed: he didn't say anything I could charge him
-with as a crime: he only offered me the farm if his sister should die.
-But I knew what he meant; there was no mistaking it: I saw it in his
-eye."
-
-"And what did you do, Doctor Colligan, at the time?" said the parson.
-
-"I hardly remember," said the doctor; "I was so flurried. But I know I
-knocked him down, and then I rushed out of the room. I believe I
-threatened I'd have him hung."
-
-"But you did knock him down?"
-
-"Oh, I did. He was sprawling on the ground when I left him."
-
-"You're quite sure you knocked him down?" repeated the parson.
-
-"The divil a doubt on earth about that!" replied Colligan. "I tell you,
-when I left the room he was on his back among the chairs."
-
-"And you did not hear a word from him since?"
-
-"Not a word."
-
-"Then there can't be any mistake about it, my lord," said Armstrong.
-"If he did not feel that his life was in the doctor's hands, he would
-not put up with being knocked down. And I'll tell you what's more--if
-you tax him with the murder, he'll deny it and defy you; but tax him
-with having been knocked down, and he'll swear his foot slipped, or
-that he'd have done as much for the doctor if he hadn't run away. And
-then ask him why the doctor knocked him down?--you'll have him on the
-hip so."
-
-"There's something in that," said Frank; "but the question is, what is
-Doctor Colligan to do? He says he can't swear any information on which
-a magistrate could commit him."
-
-"Unless he does, my lord," said Armstrong, "I don't think you should
-listen to him at all; at least, not as a magistrate."
-
-"Well, Doctor Colligan, what do you say?"
-
-"I don't know what to say, my lord. I came to your lordship for advice,
-both as a magistrate and as a friend of the young man who is to marry
-Lynch's sister. Of course, if you cannot advise me, I will go away
-again."
-
-"You won't come before me and Mr Brew, then?"
-
-"I don't say I won't," said Colligan; "but I don't see the use. I'm not
-able to prove anything."
-
-"I'll tell you what, Ballindine," said the parson; "only I don't know
-whether it mayn't be tampering with justice--suppose we were to go to
-this hell-hound, you and I together, and, telling him what we know,
-give him his option to stand his trial or quit the country? Take my
-word for it, he'd go; and that would be the best way to be rid of him.
-He'd leave his sister in peace and quiet then, to enjoy her fortune."
-
-"That's true," said Frank; "and it would be a great thing to rid the
-country of him. Do you remember the way he rode a-top of that poor
-bitch of mine the other day--Goneaway, you know; the best bitch in the
-pack?"
-
-"Indeed I do," said the parson; "but for all that, she wasn't the best
-bitch in the pack: she hadn't half the nose of Gaylass."
-
-"But, as I was saying, Armstrong, it would be a great thing to rid the
-country of Barry Lynch."
-
-"Indeed it would."
-
-"And there'd be nothing then to prevent young Kelly marrying Anty at
-once."
-
-"Make him give his consent in writing before you let him go," said
-Armstrong.
-
-"I'll tell you what, Doctor Colligan," said Frank; "do you get into
-your own gig, and follow us on, and I'll talk the matter over with Mr
-Armstrong."
-
-The doctor again returned to his buggy, and the parson to his own seat,
-and Lord Ballindine drove off at a pace which made it difficult enough
-for Doctor Colligan to keep him in sight.
-
-"I don't know how far we can trust that apothecary," said Frank to his
-friend.
-
-"He's an honest man, I believe," said Armstrong, "though he's a dirty,
-drunken blackguard."
-
-"Maybe he was drunk this evening, at Lynch's?"
-
-"I was wrong to call him a drunkard. I believe he doesn't get drunk,
-though he's always drinking. But you may take my word for it, what he's
-telling you now is as true as gospel. If he was telling a lie from
-malice, he'd be louder, and more urgent about it: you see he's half
-afraid to speak, as it is. He would not have come near you at all, only
-his conscience makes him afraid to keep the matter to himself. You may
-take my word for it, Ballindine, Barry Lynch did propose to him to
-murder his sister. Indeed, it doesn't surprise me. He is so utterly
-worthless."
-
-"But murder, Armstrong! downright murder; of the worst kind;
-studied--premeditated. He must have been thinking of it, and planning
-it, for days. A man may be worthless, and yet not such a wretch as that
-would make him. Can you really think he meant Colligan to murder his
-sister?"
-
-"I can, and do think so," said the parson. "The temptation was great:
-he had been waiting for his sister's death; and he could not bring
-himself to bear disappointment. I do not think he could do it with his
-own hand, for he is a coward; but I can quite believe that he could
-instigate another person to do it."
-
-"Then I'd hang him. I wouldn't raise my hand to save him from the
-rope!"
-
-"Nor would I: but we can't hang him. We can do nothing to him, if he
-defies us; but, if he's well handled, we can drive him from the
-country."
-
-The lord and the parson talked the matter over till they reached
-Dunmore, and agreed that they would go, with Colligan, to Barry Lynch;
-tell him of the charge which was brought against him, and give him
-his option of standing his trial, or of leaving the country, under a
-written promise that he would never return to it. In this case, he was
-also to write a note to Anty, signifying his consent that she should
-marry Martin Kelly, and also execute some deed by which all control
-over the property should be taken out of his own hands; and that he
-should agree to receive his income, whatever it might be, through the
-hands of an agent.
-
-There were sundry matters connected with the subject, which were rather
-difficult of arrangement. In the, first place, Frank was obliged, very
-unwillingly, to consent that Mr Armstrong should remain, at any rate
-one day longer, in the country. It was, however, at last settled that
-he should return that night and sleep at Kelly's Court. Then Lord
-Ballindine insisted that they should tell young Kelly what they were
-about, before they went to Barry's house, as it would be necessary to
-consult him as to the disposition he would wish to have made of the
-property. Armstrong was strongly against this measure,--but it was, at
-last, decided on; and then they had to induce Colligan to go with them.
-He much wished them to manage the business without him. He had had
-quite enough of Dunmore House; and, in spite of the valiant manner in
-which he had knocked its owner down the last time he was there, seemed
-now quite afraid to face him. But Mr Armstrong informed him that he
-must go on now, as he had said so much, and at last frightened him into
-an unwilling compliance.
-
-The three of them went up into the little parlour of the inn, and
-summoned Martin to the conference, and various were the conjectures
-made by the family as to the nature of the business which brought three
-such persons to the inn together. But the widow settled them all by
-asserting that "a Kelly needn't be afeared, thank God, to see his own
-landlord in his own house, nor though he brought an attorney wid him as
-well as a parson and a docther." And so, Martin was sent for, and soon
-heard the horrid story. Not long after he had joined them, the four
-sallied out together, and Meg remarked that something very bad was
-going to happen, for the lord never passed her before without a kind
-word or a nod; and now he took no more notice of her than if it had
-been only Sally herself that met him on the stairs.
-
-
-
-
-XXXV.  MR LYNCH BIDS FAREWELL TO DUNMORE
-
-
-Poor Martin was dreadfully shocked; and not only shocked, but
-grieved and astonished. He had never thought well of his intended
-brother-in-law, but he had not judged him so severely as Mr Armstrong
-had done. He listened to all Lord Ballindine said to him, and agreed as
-to the propriety of the measures he proposed. But there was nothing of
-elation about him at the downfall of the man whom he could not but look
-on as his enemy: indeed, he was not only subdued and modest in his
-demeanour, but he appeared so reserved that he could hardly be got to
-express any interest in the steps which were to be taken respecting the
-property. It was only when Lord Ballindine pointed out to him that it
-was his duty to guard Anty's interests, that he would consent to go to
-Dunmore House with them, and to state, when called upon to do so, what
-measures he would wish to have adopted with regard to the property.
-
-"Suppose he denies himself to us?" said Frank, as the four walked
-across the street together, to the great astonishment of the whole
-population.
-
-"If he's in the house, I'll go bail we won't go away without seeing
-him," said the parson. "Will he be at home, Kelly, do you think?"
-
-"Indeed he will, Mr Armstrong," said Martin; "he'll be in bed and
-asleep. He's never out of bed, I believe, much before one or two in the
-day. It's a bad life he's leading since the ould man died."
-
-"You may say that," said the doctor:--"cursing and drinking; drinking
-and cursing; nothing else. You'll find him curse at you dreadful, Mr
-Armstrong, I'm afraid."
-
-"I can bear that, doctor; it's part of my own trade, you know; but I
-think we'll find him quiet enough. I think you'll find the difficulty
-is to make him speak at all. You'd better be spokesman, my lord, as
-you're a magistrate."
-
-"No, Armstrong, I will not. You're much more able, and more fitting: if
-it's necessary for me to act as a magistrate, I'll do so--but at first
-we'll leave him to you."
-
-"Very well," said the parson; "and I'll do my best. But I'll tell you
-what I am afraid of: if we find him in bed we must wait for him, and
-when the servant tells him who we are, and mentions the doctor's name
-along with yours, my lord, he'll guess what we're come about, and
-he'll be out of the window, or into the cellar, and then there'd be
-no catching him without the police. We must make our way up into his
-bed-room."
-
-"I don't think we could well do that," said the doctor.
-
-"No, Armstrong," said Lord Ballindine. "I don't think we ought to force
-ourselves upstairs: we might as well tell all the servants what we'd
-come about."
-
-"And so we must," said Armstrong, "if it's necessary. The more
-determined we are--in fact, the rougher we are with him, the more
-likely we are to bring him on his knees. I tell you, you must have no
-scruples in dealing with such a fellow; but leave him to me;" and so
-saying, the parson gave a thundering rap at the hail door, and in about
-one minute repeated it, which brought Biddy running to the door without
-shoes or stockings, with her hair streaming behind her head, and, in
-her hand, the comb with which she had been disentangling it.
-
-"Is your master at home?" said Armstrong.
-
-"Begorra, he is," said the girl out of breath. "That is, he's not up
-yet, nor awake, yer honer," and she held the door in her hand, as
-though this answer was final.
-
-"But I want to see him on especial and immediate business," said the
-parson, pushing back the door and the girl together, and walking into
-the hall. "I must see him at once. Mr Lynch will excuse me: we've known
-each other a long time."
-
-"Begorra, I don't know," said the girl, "only he's in bed and fast.
-Couldn't yer honer call agin about four or five o'clock? That's the
-time the masther's most fittest to be talking to the likes of yer
-honer."
-
-"These gentlemen could not wait," said the parson.
-
-"Shure the docther there, and Mr Martin, knows well enough I'm not
-telling you a bit of a lie, Misther Armstrong," said the girl.
-
-"I know you're not, my good girl; I know you're not telling a
-lie;--but, nevertheless, I must see Mr Lynch. Just step up and wake
-him, and tell him I'm waiting to say two words to him."
-
-"Faix, yer honer, he's very bitther intirely, when he's waked this
-early. But in course I'll be led by yer honers. I'll say then, that the
-lord, and Parson Armstrong, and the docther, and Mr Martin, is waiting
-to spake two words to him. Is that it?"
-
-"That'll do as well as anything," said Armstrong; and then, when the
-girl went upstairs, he continued, "You see she knew us all, and of
-course will tell him who we are; but I'll not let him escape, for I'll
-go up with her," and, as the girl slowly opened her master's bed-room
-door, Mr Armstrong stood close outside it in the passage.
-
-After considerable efforts, Biddy succeeded in awaking her master
-sufficiently to make him understand that Lord Ballindine, and Doctor
-Colligan were downstairs, and that Parson Armstrong was just outside
-the bed-room door. The poor girl tried hard to communicate her tidings
-in such a whisper as would be inaudible to the parson; but this was
-impossible, for Barry only swore at her, and asked her "what the
-d---- she meant by jabbering there in that manner?" When, however, he
-did comprehend who his visitors were, and where they were, he gnashed
-his teeth and clenched his fist at the poor girl, in sign of his anger
-against her for having admitted so unwelcome a party; but he was too
-frightened to speak.
-
-Mr Armstrong soon put an end to this dumb show, by walking into the
-bed-room, when the girl escaped, and he shut the door. Barry sat up in
-his bed, rubbed his eyes, and stared at him, but he said nothing.
-
-"Mr Lynch," said the parson, "I had better at once explain the
-circumstances which have induced me to make so very strange a visit."
-
-"Confounded strange, I must say! to come up to a man's room in this
-way, and him in bed!"
-
-"Doctor Colligan is downstairs--"
-
-"D---- Doctor Colligan! He's at his lies again, I suppose? Much I care
-for Doctor Colligan."
-
-"Doctor Colligan is downstairs," continued Mr Armstrong, "and Lord
-Ballindine, who, you are aware, is a magistrate. They wish to speak to
-you, Mr Lynch, and that at once."
-
-"I suppose they can wait till a man's dressed?"
-
-"That depends on how long you're dressing, Mr Lynch."
-
-"Upon my word, this is cool enough, in a man's own house!" said Barry.
-"Well, you don't expect me to get up while you're there, I suppose?"
-
-"Indeed I do, Mr Lynch: never mind me; just wash and dress yourself as
-though I wasn't here. I'll wait here till we go down together."
-
-"I'm d----d if I do," said Barry. "I'll not stir while you remain
-there!" and he threw himself back in the bed, and wrapped the
-bedclothes round him.
-
-"Very well," said Mr Armstrong; and then going out on to the
-landing-place, called out over the banisters--"Doctor--Doctor Colligan!
-tell his lordship Mr Lynch objects to a private interview: he had
-better just step down to the Court-house, and issue his warrant. You
-might as well tell Constable Nelligan to be in the way."
-
-"D----n!" exclaimed Barry, sitting bolt upright in his bed. "Who says I
-object to see anybody? Mr Armstrong, what do you go and say that for?"
-Mr Armstrong returned into the room. "It's not true. I only want to
-have my bed-room to myself, while I get up."
-
-"For once in the way, Mr Lynch, you must manage to get up although your
-privacy be intruded on. To tell you the plain truth, I will not leave
-you till you come downstairs with me, unless it be in the custody of a
-policeman. If you will quietly dress and come downstairs with me, I
-trust we may be saved the necessity of troubling the police at all."
-
-Barry, at last, gave way, and, gradually extricating himself from the
-bedclothes, put his feet down on the floor, and remained sitting on
-the side of his bed. He leaned his head down on his hands, and groaned
-inwardly; for he was very sick, and the fumes of last night's punch
-still disturbed his brain. His stockings and drawers were on; for
-Terry, when he put him to bed, considered it only waste of time to pull
-them off, for "shure wouldn't they have jist to go on agin the next
-morning?"
-
-"Don't be particular, Mr Lynch: never mind washing or shaving till
-we're gone. We won't keep you long, I hope."
-
-"You're very kind, I must say," said Barry. "I suppose you won't object
-to my having a bottle of soda water?"--and he gave a terrible tug at
-the bell.
-
-"Not at all--nor a glass of brandy in it, if you like it. Indeed, Mr
-Lynch, I think that, just at present, it will be the better thing for
-you."
-
-Barry got his bottle of soda water, and swallowed about two glasses of
-whiskey in it, for brandy was beginning to be scarce with him; and then
-commenced his toilet. He took Parson Armstrong's hint, and wasn't very
-particular about it. He huddled on his clothes, smoothed his hair with
-his brush, and muttering something about it's being their own fault,
-descended into the parlour, followed by Mr Armstrong. He made a kind of
-bow to Lord Ballindine; took no notice of Martin, but, turning round
-sharp on the doctor, said:
-
-"Of all the false ruffians, I ever met, Colligan--by heavens, you're
-the worst! There's one comfort, no man in Dunmore will believe a word
-you say." He then threw himself back into the easy chair, and said,
-"Well, gentlemen--well, my lord--here I am. You can't say I'm ashamed
-to show my face, though I must say your visit is not made in the
-genteelest manner."
-
-"Mr Lynch," said the parson, "do you remember the night Doctor Colligan
-knocked you down in this room? In this room, wasn't it, doctor?"
-
-"Yes; in this room," said the doctor, rather _sotto voce_.
-
-"Do you remember the circumstance, Mr Lynch?"
-
-"It's a lie!" said Barry.
-
-"No it's not," said the parson. "If you forget it, I can call in the
-servant to remember so much as that for me; but you'll find it better,
-Mr Lynch, to let us finish this business among ourselves. Come, think
-about it. I'm sure you remember being knocked down by the doctor."
-
-"I remember a scrimmage there was between us. I don't care what the
-girl says, she didn't see it. Colligan, I suppose, has given her
-half-a-crown, and she'd swear anything for that."
-
-"Well, you remember the night of the scrimmage?"
-
-"I do: Colligan got drunk here one night. He wanted me to give him a
-farm, and said cursed queer things about my sister. I hardly know what
-he said; but I know I had to turn him out of the house, and there was a
-scrimmage between us."
-
-"I see you're so far prepared, Mr Lynch: now, I'll tell you my version
-of the story.--Martin Kelly, just see that the door is shut. You
-endeavoured to bribe Doctor Colligan to murder your own sister."
-
-"It's a most infernal lie!" said Barry. "Where's your
-evidence?--where's your evidence? What's the good of your all coming
-here with such a story as that? Where's your evidence?"
-
-"You'd better be quiet, Mr Lynch, or we'll adjourn at once from here to
-the open Court-house."
-
-"Adjourn when you like; it's all one to me. Who'll believe such a
-drunken ruffian as that Colligan, I'd like to know? Such a story as
-that!"
-
-"My lord," said Armstrong, "I'm afraid we must go on with this business
-at the Court-house. Martin, I believe I must trouble you to go down to
-the police barrack." And the whole party, except Barry, rose from their
-seats.
-
-"What the devil are you going to drag me down to the Court-house for,
-gentlemen?" said he. "I'll give you any satisfaction, but you can't
-expect I'll own to such a lie as this about my sister. I suppose my
-word's as good as Colligan's, gentlemen? I suppose my character as a
-Protestant gentleman stands higher than his--a dirty Papist apothecary.
-He tells one story; I tell another; only he's got the first word of me,
-that's all. I suppose, gentlemen, I'm not to be condemned on the word
-of such a man as that?"
-
-"I think, Mr Lynch," said Armstrong, "if you'll listen to me, you'll
-save yourself and us a great deal of trouble. You asked me who my
-witness was: my witness is in this house. I would not charge you with
-so horrid, so damnable a crime, had I not thoroughly convinced myself
-you were guilty--now, do hold your tongue, Mr Lynch, or I will have you
-down to the Court-house. We all know you are guilty, you know it
-yourself--"
-
-"I'm--" began Barry.
-
-"Stop, Mr Lynch; not one word till I've done; or what I have to say,
-shall be said in public. We all know you are guilty, but we probably
-mayn't be able to prove it--"
-
-"No, I should think not!" shouted Barry.
-
-"We mayn't be able to prove it in such a way as to enable a jury to
-hang you, or, upon my word, I wouldn't interfere to prevent it: the law
-should have its course. I'd hang you with as little respite as I would
-a dog."
-
-Barry grinned horribly at this suggestion, but said nothing, and the
-parson continued:
-
-"It is not the want of evidence that stands in the way of so desirable
-a proceeding, but that Doctor Colligan, thoroughly disgusted and
-shocked at the iniquity of your proposal--"
-
-"Oh, go on, Mr Armstrong!--go on; I see you are determined to have it
-all your own way, but my turn'll come soon."
-
-"I say that Doctor Colligan interrupted you before you fully committed
-yourself."
-
-"Fully committed myself, indeed! Why, Colligan knows well enough, that
-when he got up in such a fluster, there'd not been a word at all said
-about Anty."
-
-"Hadn't there, Mr Lynch?--just now you said you turned the doctor out
-of your house for speaking about your sister. You're only committing
-yourself. I say, therefore, the evidence, though quite strong enough
-to put you into the dock as a murderer in intention, might not be
-sufficient to induce a jury to find you guilty. But guilty you would
-be esteemed in the mind of every man, woman, and child in this county:
-guilty of the wilful, deliberate murder of your own sister."
-
-"By heavens I'll not stand this!" exclaimed Barry.--"I'll not stand
-this! I didn't do it, Mr Armstrong. I didn't do it. He's a liar, Lord
-Ballindine: upon my sacred word and honour as a gentleman, he's a
-liar. Why do you believe him, when you won't believe me? Ain't I a
-Protestant, Mr Armstrong, and ain't you a Protestant clergyman? Don't
-you know that such men as he will tell any lie; will do any dirty job?
-On my sacred word of honour as a gentleman, Lord Ballindine, he offered
-to poison Anty, on condition he got the farm round the house for
-nothing!--He knows it's true, and why should you believe him sooner
-than me, Mr Armstrong?"
-
-Barry had got up from his seat, and was walking up and down the room,
-now standing opposite Lord Ballindine, and appealing to him, and then
-doing the same thing to Mr Armstrong. He was a horrid figure: he had no
-collar round his neck, and his handkerchief was put on in such a way
-as to look like a hangman's knot: his face was blotched, and red, and
-greasy, for he had neither shaved nor washed himself since his last
-night's debauch; he had neither waistcoat nor braces on, and his
-trousers fell on his hips; his long hair hung over his eyes, which were
-bleared and bloodshot; he was suffering dreadfully from terror, and an
-intense anxiety to shift the guilt from himself to Doctor Colligan. He
-was a most pitiable object--so wretched, so unmanned, so low in the
-scale of creation. Lord Ballindine did pity his misery, and suggested
-to Mr Armstrong whether by any possibility there could be any mistake
-in the matter--whether it was possible Doctor Colligan could have
-mistaken Lynch's object?--The poor wretch jumped at this loop-hole, and
-doubly condemned himself by doing so.
-
-"He did, then," said Barry; "he must have done so. As I hope for
-heaven, Lord Ballindine, I never had the idea of getting him to--to
-do anything to Anty. I wouldn't have done it for worlds--indeed I
-wouldn't. There must be some mistake, indeed there must. He'd been
-drinking, Mr Armstrong--drinking a good deal that night--isn't that
-true, Doctor Colligan? Come, man, speak the truth--don't go and try and
-hang a fellow out of mistake! His lordship sees it's all a mistake, and
-of course he's the best able to judge of the lot here; a magistrate,
-and a nobleman and all. I know you won't see me wronged, Lord
-Ballindine, I know you won't. I give you my sacred word of honour as a
-gentleman, it all came from mistake when we were both drunk, or nearly
-drunk. Come, Doctor Colligan, speak man--isn't that the truth? I tell
-you, Mr Armstrong, Lord Ballindine's in the right of it. There is some
-mistake in all this."
-
-"As sure as the Lord's in heaven," said the doctor, now becoming a
-little uneasy at the idea that Lord Ballindine should think he had told
-so strange a story without proper foundation--"as sure as the Lord's in
-heaven, he offered me the farm for a reward, should I manage to prevent
-his sister's recovery."
-
-"What do you think, Mr Armstrong?" said Lord Ballindine.
-
-"Think!" said the parson--"There's no possibility of thinking at all.
-The truth becomes clearer every moment. Why, you wretched creature,
-it's not ten minutes since you yourself accused Doctor Colligan
-of offering to murder your sister! According to your own showing,
-therefore, there was a deliberate conversation between you; and your
-own evasion now would prove which of you were the murderer, were any
-additional proof wanted. But it is not. Barry Lynch, as sure as you now
-stand in the presence of your Creator, whose name you so constantly
-blaspheme, you endeavoured to instigate that man to murder your own
-sister."
-
-"Oh, Lord Ballindine!--oh, Lord Ballindine!" shrieked Barry, in his
-agony, "don't desert me! pray, pray don't desert me! I didn't do it--I
-never thought of doing it. We were at school together, weren't we?--And
-you won't see me put upon this way. You mayn't think much of me in
-other things, but you won't believe that a school-fellow of your own
-ever--ever--ever--" Barry couldn't bring himself to use the words with
-which his sentence should be finished, and so he flung himself back
-into his armchair and burst into tears.
-
-"You appeal to me, Mr Lynch," said Lord Ballindine, "and I must say
-I most firmly believe you to be guilty. My only doubt is whether you
-should not at once be committed for trial at the next assizes."
-
-"Oh, my G----!" exclaimed Barry, and for some time he continued
-blaspheming most horribly--swearing that there was a conspiracy against
-him--accusing Mr Armstrong, in the most bitter terms, of joining with
-Doctor Colligan and Martin Kelly to rob and murder him.
-
-"Now, Mr Lynch," continued the parson, as soon as the unfortunate man
-would listen to him, "as I before told you, I am in doubt--we are all
-in doubt--whether or not a jury would hang you; and we think that we
-shall do more good to the community by getting you out of the way,
-than by letting you loose again after a trial which will only serve to
-let everyone know how great a wretch there is in the county. We will,
-therefore, give you your option either to stand your trial, or to leave
-the country at once--and for ever."
-
-"And my property?--what's to become of my property?" said Barry.
-
-"Your property's safe, Mr Lynch; we can't touch that. We're not
-prescribing any punishment to you. We fear, indeed we know, you're
-beyond the reach of the law, or we shouldn't make the proposal." Barry
-breathed freely again as he heard this avowal. "But you're not beyond
-the reach of public opinion--of public execration--of general hatred,
-and of a general curse. For your sister's sake--for the sake of Martin
-Kelly, who is going to marry the sister whom you wished to murder,
-and not for your own sake, you shall be allowed to leave the country
-without this public brand being put upon your name. If you remain, no
-one shall speak to you but as to a man who would have murdered his
-sister: murder shall be everlastingly muttered in your ears; nor will
-your going then avail you, for your character shall go with you, and
-the very blackguards with whom you delight to assort, shall avoid
-you as being too bad even for their society. Go now, Mr Lynch--go at
-once;--leave your sister to happiness which you cannot prevent; and she
-at least shall know nothing of your iniquity, and you shall enjoy the
-proceeds of your property anywhere you will--anywhere, that is, but in
-Ireland. Do you agree to this?"
-
-"I'm an innocent man, Mr Armstrong. I am indeed."
-
-"Very well," said the parson, "then we may as well go away, and leave
-you to your fate. Come, Lord Ballindine, we can have nothing further to
-say," and they again all rose from their seats.
-
-"Stop, Mr Armstrong; stop," said Barry.
-
-"Well," said the parson; for Barry repressed the words which were in
-his mouth, when he found that his visitors did stop as he desired them.
-
-"Well, Mr Lynch, what have you further to say."
-
-"Indeed I am not guilty." Mr Armstrong put on his hat and rushed to the
-door--"but--" continued Barry.
-
-"I will have no 'buts,' Mr Lynch; will you at once and unconditionally
-agree to the terms I have proposed?"
-
-"I don't want to live in the country," said Barry; "the country's
-nothing to me."
-
-"You will go then, immediately?" said the parson.
-
-"As soon as I have arranged about the property, I will," said Barry.
-
-"That won't do," said the parson. "You must go at once, and leave your
-property to the care of others. You must leave Dunmore _to-day_, for
-ever."
-
-"To-day!" shouted Barry.
-
-"Yes, to-day. You can easily get as far as Roscommon. You have your
-own horse and car. And, what is more, before you go, you must write to
-your sister, telling her that you have made up your mind to leave the
-country, and expressing your consent to her marrying whom she pleases."
-
-"I can't go to-day," said Barry, sulkily. "Who's to receive my rents?
-who'll send me my money?--besides--besides. Oh, come--that's nonsense.
-I ain't going to be turned out in that style."
-
-"You ain't in earnest, are you, about his going to-day?" whispered
-Frank to the parson.
-
-"I am, and you'll find he'll go, too," said Armstrong. "It must be
-to-day--this very day, Mr Lynch. Martin Kelly will manage for you about
-the property."
-
-"Or you can send for Mr Daly, to meet you at Roscommon," suggested
-Martin.
-
-"Thank you for nothing," said Barry; "you'd better wait till you're
-spoken to. I don't know what business you have here at all."
-
-"The business that all honest men have to look after all rogues," said
-Mr Armstrong. "Come, Mr Lynch, you'd better make up your mind to
-prepare for your journey."
-
-"Well, I won't--and there's an end of it," said Barry. "It's all
-nonsense. You can't do anything to me: you said so yourself. I'm not
-going to be made a fool of that way--I'm not going to give up my
-property and everything."
-
-"Don't you know, Mr Lynch," said the parson, "that if you are kept in
-jail till April next, as will be your fate if you persist in staying
-at Dunmore tonight, your creditors will do much more damage to your
-property, than your own immediate absence will do? If Mr Daly is your
-lawyer, send for him, as Martin Kelly suggests. I'm not afraid that he
-will recommend you to remain in the country, even should you dare to
-tell him of the horrid accusation which is brought against you. But at
-any rate make up your mind, for if you do stay in Dunmore tonight it
-shall be in the Bridewell, and your next move shall be to Galway."
-
-Barry sat silent for a while, trying to think. The parson was like an
-incubus upon him, which he was totally unable to shake off. He knew
-neither how to resist nor how to give way. Misty ideas got into his
-head of escaping to his bed-room and blowing his own brains out.
-Different schemes of retaliation and revenge flitted before him, but
-he could decide on nothing. There he sat, silent, stupidly gazing at
-nothing, while Lord Ballindine and Mr Armstrong stood whispering over
-the fire.
-
-"I'm afraid we're in the wrong: I really think we are," said Frank.
-
-"We must go through with it now, any way," said the parson. "Come, Mr
-Lynch, I will give you five minutes more, and then I go;" and he pulled
-out his watch, and stood with his back to the fire, looking at it. Lord
-Ballindine walked to the window, and Martin Kelly and Doctor Colligan
-sat in distant parts of the room, with long faces, silent and solemn,
-breathing heavily. How long those five minutes appeared to them, and
-how short to Barry! The time was not long enough to enable him to come
-to any decision: at the end of the five minutes he was still gazing
-vacantly before him: he was still turning over in his brain, one after
-another, the same crowd of undigested schemes.
-
-"The time is out, Mr Lynch: will you go?" said the parson.
-
-"I've no money," hoarsely croaked Barry.
-
-"If that's the only difficulty, we'll raise money for him," said Frank.
-
-"I'll advance him money," said Martin.
-
-"Do you mean you've no money at all?" said the parson.
-
-"Don't you hear me say so?" said Barry.
-
-"And you'll go if you get money--say ten pounds?" said the parson.
-
-"Ten pounds! I can go nowhere with ten pounds. You know that well
-enough."
-
-"I'll give him twenty-five," said Martin. "I'm sure his sister'll do
-that for him."
-
-"Say fifty," said Barry, "and I'm off at once."
-
-"I haven't got it," said Martin.
-
-"No," said the parson; "I'll not see you bribed to go: take the
-twenty-five--that will last you till you make arrangements about your
-property. We are not going to pay you for going, Mr Lynch."
-
-"You seem very anxious about it, any way."
-
-"I am anxious about it," rejoined the parson. "I am anxious to save
-your sister from knowing what it was that her brother wished to
-accomplish."
-
-Barry scowled at him as though he would like, if possible, to try his
-hand at murdering him; but he did not answer him again. Arrangements
-were at last made for Barry's departure, and off he went, that very
-day--not to Roscommon, but to Tuam; and there, at the instigation of
-Martin, Daly the attorney took upon himself the division and temporary
-management of the property. From thence, with Martin's, or rather with
-his sister's twenty-five pounds in his pocket, he started to that
-Elysium for which he had for some time so ardently longed, and soon
-landed at Boulogne, regardless alike of his sister, his future brother,
-Lord Ballindine, or Mr Armstrong. The parson had found it quite
-impossible to carry out one point on which he had insisted. He could
-not induce Barry Lynch to write to his sister: no, not a line; not a
-word. Had it been to save him from hanging he could hardly have induced
-himself to write those common words, "_dear sister_".
-
-"Oh! you can tell her what you like," said he. "It's you're making me
-go away at once in this manner. Tell her whatever confounded lies you
-like; tell her I'm gone because I didn't choose to stay and see her
-make a fool of herself--and that's the truth, too. If it wasn't for
-that I wouldn't move a step for any of you."
-
-He went, however, as I have before said, and troubled the people of
-Dunmore no longer, nor shall he again trouble us.
-
-
-"Oh! but Martin, what nonsense!" said the widow, coaxingly to her son,
-that night before she went to bed. "The lord wouldn't be going up there
-just to wish him good bye--and Parson Armstrong too. What the dickens
-could they be at there so long? Come, Martin--you're safe with me, you
-know; tell us something about it now."
-
-"Nonsense, mother; I've nothing to tell: Barry Lynch has left the place
-for good and all, that's all about it."
-
-"God bless the back of him, thin; he'd my lave for going long since.
-But you might be telling us what made him be starting this way all of a
-heap."
-
-"Don't you know, mother, he was head and ears in debt?"
-
-"Don't tell me," said the widow. "Parson Armstrong's not a sheriff's
-officer, that he should be looking after folks in debt."
-
-"No, mother, he's not, that I know of; but he don't like, for all that,
-to see his tithes walking out of the country."
-
-"Don't be coming over me that way, Martin. Barry Lynch, nor his father
-before him, never held any land in Ballindine parish."
-
-"Didn't they--well thin, you know more than I, mother, so it's no use
-my telling you," and Martin walked off to bed.
-
-"I'll even you, yet, my lad," said she, "close as you are; you see
-else. Wait awhile, till the money's wanting, and then let's see who'll
-know all about it!" And the widow slapped herself powerfully on that
-part where her pocket depended, in sign of the great confidence she had
-in the strength of her purse.
-
-"Did I manage that well?" said the parson, as Lord Ballindine drove him
-home to Kelly's Court, as soon as the long interview was over. "If I
-can do as well at Grey Abbey, you'll employ me again, I think!"
-
-"Upon my word, then, Armstrong," said Frank, "I never was in such hot
-water as I have been all this day: and, now it's over, to tell you the
-truth, I'm sorry we interfered. We did what we had no possible right to
-do."
-
-"Nonsense, man. You don't suppose I'd have dreamed of letting him off,
-if the law could have touched him? But it couldn't. No magistrates in
-the county could have committed him; for he had done, and, as far as
-I can judge, had said, literally nothing. It's true we know what he
-intended; but a score of magistrates could have done nothing with him:
-as it is, we've got him out of the country: he'll never come back
-again."
-
-"What I mean is, we had no business to drive him out of the country
-with threats."
-
-"Oh, Ballindine, that's nonsense. One can keep no common terms with
-such a blackguard as that. However, it's done now; and I must say I
-think it was well done."
-
-"There's no doubt of your talent in the matter, Armstrong: upon my soul
-I never saw anything so cool. What a wretch--what an absolute fiend the
-fellow is!"
-
-"Bad enough," said the parson. "I've seen bad men before, but I think
-he's the worst I ever saw. What'll Mrs O'Kelly say of my coming in this
-way, without notice?"
-
-The parson enjoyed his claret at Kelly's Court that evening, after his
-hard day's work, and the next morning he started for Grey Abbey.
-
-
-
-
-XXXVI.  MR ARMSTRONG VISITS GREY ABBEY ON A DELICATE MISSION
-
-
-Lord Cashel certainly felt a considerable degree of relief when his
-daughter told him that Lord Kilcullen had left the house, and was on
-his way to Dublin, though he had been forced to pay so dearly for the
-satisfaction, had had to falsify his solemn assurance that he would
-not give his son another penny, and to break through his resolution of
-acting the Roman father [50]. He consoled himself with the idea that he had
-been actuated by affection for his profligate son; but such had not
-been the case. Could he have handed him over to the sheriff's officer
-silently and secretly, he would have done so; but his pride could not
-endure the reflection that all the world should know that bailiffs had
-forced an entry into Grey Abbey.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 50: Roman father--Lucius Junius Brutus, legendary
-                   founder of the Roman republic, was said to have
-                   passed sentence of death on his two sons for
-                   participating in a rebellion.]
-
-He closely questioned Lady Selina, with regard to all that had passed
-between her and her brother.
-
-"Did he say anything?" at last he said--"did he say anything
-about--about Fanny?"
-
-"Not much, papa; but what he did say, he said with kindness and
-affection," replied her ladyship, glad to repeat anything in favour of
-her brother.
-
-"Affection--pooh!" said the earl. "He has no affection; no affection
-for any one; he has no affection even for me.--What did he say about
-her, Selina?"
-
-"He seemed to wish she should marry Lord Ballindine."
-
-"She may marry whom she pleases, now," said the earl. "I wash my hands
-of her. I have done my best to prevent what I thought a disgraceful
-match for her--"
-
-"It would not have been disgraceful, papa, had she married him six
-months ago."
-
-"A gambler and a _roue_!" said the earl, forgetting, it is to be
-supposed, for the moment, his own son's character. "She'll marry him
-now, I suppose, and repent at her leisure. I'll give myself no further
-trouble about it."
-
-The earl thought upon the subject, however, a good deal; and before Mr
-Armstrong's arrival he had all but made up his mind that he must again
-swallow his word, and ask his ward's lover back to his house. He had at
-any rate become assured that if he did not do so, some one else would
-do it for him.
-
-Mr Armstrong was, happily, possessed of a considerable stock of
-self-confidence, and during his first day's journey, felt no want of it
-with regard to the delicate mission with which he was entrusted. But
-when he had deposited his carpet-bag at the little hotel at Kilcullen
-bridge, and found himself seated on a hack car, and proceeding to Grey
-Abbey, he began to feel that he had rather a difficult part to play;
-and by the time that the house was in sight, he felt himself completely
-puzzled as to the manner in which he should open his negotiation.
-
-He had, however, desired the man to drive to the house, and he could
-not well stop the car in the middle of the demesne, to mature his
-plans; and when he was at the door he could not stay there without
-applying for admission. So he got his card-case in his hand, and rang
-the bell. After a due interval, which to the parson did not seem a bit
-too long, the heavy-looking, powdered footman appeared, and announced
-that Lord Cashel was at home; and, in another minute Mr Armstrong found
-himself in the book-room.
-
-It was the morning after Lord Kilcullen's departure, and Lord Cashel
-was still anything but comfortable. Her ladyship had been bothering him
-about the poor boy, as she called her son, now that she learned he was
-in distress; and had been beseeching him to increase his allowance.
-The earl had not told his wife the extent of their son's pecuniary
-delinquencies, and consequently she was greatly dismayed when her
-husband very solemnly said,
-
-"My lady, Lord Kilcullen has no longer any allowance from me."
-
-"Good gracious!" screamed her ladyship; "no allowance?--how is the poor
-boy to live?"
-
-"That I really cannot tell. I cannot even guess; but, let him live how
-he may, I will not absolutely ruin myself for his sake."
-
-The interview was not a comfortable one, either to the father or
-mother. Lady Cashel cried a great deal, and was very strongly of
-opinion that her son would die of cold and starvation: "How could
-he get shelter or food, any more than a common person, if he had no
-allowance? Mightn't he, at any rate, come back, and live at Grey
-Abbey?--That wouldn't cost his father anything." And then the countess
-remembered how she had praised her son to Mrs Ellison, and the bishop's
-wife; and she cried worse than ever, and was obliged to be left to
-Griffiths and her drops.
-
-This happened on the evening of Lord Kilcullen's departure, and on the
-next morning her ladyship did not appear at breakfast. She was weak
-and nervous, and had her tea in her own sitting-room. There was no one
-sitting at breakfast but the earl, Fanny, and Lady Selina, and they
-were all alike, stiff, cold, and silent. The earl felt as if he were
-not at home even in his own breakfast-parlour; he felt afraid of his
-ward, as though he were conscious that she knew how he had intended
-to injure her: and, as soon as he had swallowed his eggs, he muttered
-something which was inaudible to both the girls, and retreated to his
-private den.
-
-He had not been there long before the servant brought in our friend's
-name. "The Rev. George Armstrong", written on a plain card. The parson
-had not put the name of his parish, fearing that the earl, knowing
-from whence he came, might guess his business, and decline seeing him.
-As it was, no difficulty was made, and the parson soon found himself
-_tete-a-tete_ with the earl.
-
-"I have taken the liberty of calling on you, Lord Cashel," said Mr
-Armstrong, having accepted the offer of a chair, "on a rather delicate
-mission."
-
-The earl bowed, and rubbed his hands, and felt more comfortable than he
-had done for the last week. He liked delicate missions coming to him,
-for he flattered himself that he knew how to receive them in a delicate
-manner; he liked, also, displaying his dignity to strangers, for he
-felt that strangers stood rather in awe of him: he also felt, though he
-did not own it to himself, that his manner was not so effective with
-people who had known him some time.
-
-"I may say, a very delicate mission," said the parson; "and one I would
-not have undertaken had I not known your lordship's character for
-candour and honesty."
-
-Lord Cashel again bowed and rubbed his hands.
-
-"I am, my lord, a friend of Lord Ballindine; and as such I have taken
-the liberty of calling on your lordship."
-
-"A friend of Lord Ballindine?" said the earl, arching his eyebrows, and
-assuming a look of great surprise.
-
-"A very old friend, my lord; the clergyman of his parish, and for many
-years an intimate friend of his father. I have known Lord Ballindine
-since he was a child."
-
-"Lord Ballindine is lucky in having such a friend: few young men now,
-I am sorry to say, care much for their father's friends. Is there
-anything, Mr Armstrong, in which I can assist either you or his
-lordship?"
-
-"My lord," said the parson, "I need not tell you that before I took the
-perhaps unwarrantable liberty of troubling you, I was made acquainted
-with Lord Ballindine's engagement with your ward, and with the manner
-in which that engagement was broken off."
-
-"And your object is, Mr Armstrong--?"
-
-"My object is to remove, if possible, the unfortunate misunderstanding
-between your lordship and my friend."
-
-"Misunderstanding, Mr Armstrong?--There was no misunderstanding between
-us. I really think we perfectly understood each other. Lord Ballindine
-was engaged to my ward; his engagement, however, being contingent on
-his adoption of a certain line of conduct. This line of conduct his
-lordship did not adopt; perhaps, he used a wise discretion; however, I
-thought not. I thought the mode of life which he pursued--"
-
-"But--"
-
-"Pardon me a moment, Mr Armstrong, and I shall have said all which
-appears to me to be necessary on the occasion; perhaps more than is
-necessary; more probably than I should have allowed myself to say, had
-not Lord Ballindine sent as his ambassador the clergyman of his parish
-and the friend of his father," and Lord Cashel again bowed and rubbed
-his hands. "I thought, Mr Armstrong, that your young friend appeared
-wedded to a style of life quite incompatible with his income--with
-his own income as a single man, and the income which he would have
-possessed had he married my ward. I thought that their marriage would
-only lead to poverty and distress, and I felt that I was only doing my
-duty to my ward in expressing this opinion to her. I found that she
-was herself of the same opinion; that she feared a union with Lord
-Ballindine would not ensure happiness either to him or to herself. His
-habits were too evidently those of extravagance, and hers had not been
-such as to render a life of privation anything but a life of misery."
-
-"I had thought--"
-
-"One moment more, Mr Armstrong, and I shall have done. After
-mature consideration, Miss Wyndham commissioned me to express her
-sentiments,--and I must say they fully coincided with my own,--to Lord
-Ballindine, and to explain to him, that she found herself obliged
-to--to--to retrace the steps which she had taken in the matter. I did
-this in a manner as little painful to Lord Ballindine as I was able.
-It is difficult, Mr Armstrong, to make a disagreeable communication
-palatable; it is very difficult to persuade a young man who is in love,
-to give up the object of his idolatry; but I trust Lord Ballindine
-will do me the justice to own that, on the occasion alluded to, I said
-nothing unnecessarily harsh--nothing calculated to harass his feelings.
-I appreciate and esteem Lord Ballindine's good qualities, and I much
-regretted that prudence forbad me to sanction the near alliance he was
-anxious to do me the honour of making with me."
-
-Lord Cashel finished his harangue, and felt once more on good terms
-with himself. He by no means intended offering any further vehement
-resistance to his ward's marriage. He was, indeed, rejoiced to have
-an opportunity of giving way decently. But he could not resist the
-temptation of explaining his conduct, and making a speech.
-
-"My lord," said the parson, "what you tell me is only a repetition of
-what I heard from my young friend."
-
-"I am glad to hear it. I trust, then, I may have the pleasure of
-feeling that Lord Ballindine attributes to me no personal unkindness?"
-
-"Not in the least, Lord Cashel; very far from it. Though Lord
-Ballindine may not be--may not hitherto have been, free from the
-follies of his age, he has had quite sense enough to appreciate your
-lordship's conduct."
-
-"I endeavoured, at any rate, that it should be such as to render me
-liable to no just imputation of fickleness or cruelty."
-
-"No one would for a moment accuse your lordship of either. It is my
-knowledge of your lordship's character in this particular which has
-induced me to undertake the task of begging you to reconsider the
-subject. Lord Ballindine has, you are aware, sold his race-horses."
-
-"I had heard so, Mr Armstrong; though, perhaps, not on good authority."
-
-"He has; and is now living among his own tenantry and friends at
-Kelly's Court. He is passionately, devotedly attached to your ward,
-Lord Cashel; and with a young man's vanity he still thinks that she may
-not be quite indifferent to him."
-
-"It was at her own instance, Mr Armstrong, that his suit was rejected."
-
-"I am well aware of that, my lord. But ladies, you know, do sometimes
-mistake their own feelings. Miss Wyndham must have been attached to my
-friend, or she would not have received him as her lover. Will you, my
-lord, allow me to see Miss Wyndham? If she still expresses indifference
-to Lord Ballindine, I will assure her that she shall be no further
-persecuted by his suit. If such be not the case, surely prudence need
-not further interfere to prevent a marriage desired by both the persons
-most concerned. Lord Ballindine is not now a spendthrift, whatever he
-may formerly have been; and Miss Wyndham's princely fortune, though it
-alone would never have induced my friend to seek her hand, will make
-the match all that it should be. You will not object, my lord, to my
-seeing Miss Wyndham?"
-
-"Mr Armstrong--really--you must be aware such a request is rather
-unusual."
-
-"So are the circumstances," replied the parson. "They also are unusual.
-I do not doubt Miss Wyndham's wisdom in rejecting Lord Ballindine,
-when, as you say, he appeared to be wedded to a life of extravagance.
-I have no doubt she put a violent restraint on her own feelings;
-exercised, in fact, a self-denial which shows a very high tone of
-character, and should elicit nothing but admiration; but circumstances
-are much altered."
-
-Lord Cashel continued to raise objections to the parson's request,
-though it was, throughout the interview, his intention to accede to it.
-At last, he gave up the point, with much grace, and in such a manner
-as he thought should entitle him to the eternal gratitude of his ward,
-Lord Ballindine, and the parson. He consequently rang the bell, and
-desired the servant to give his compliments to Miss Wyndham and tell
-her that the Rev. Mr Armstrong wished to see her, alone, upon business
-of importance.
-
-Mr Armstrong felt that his success was much greater than he had had any
-reason to expect, from Lord Ballindine's description of his last visit
-at Grey Abbey. He had, in fact, overcome the only difficulty. If Miss
-Wyndham really disliked his friend, and objected to the marriage, Mr
-Armstrong was well aware that he had only to return, and tell his
-friend so in the best way he could. If, however, she still had a true
-regard for him, if she were the Fanny Wyndham Ballindine had described
-her to be, if she had ever really been devoted to him, if she had at
-all a wish in her heart to see him again at her feet, the parson felt
-that he would have good news to send back to Kelly's Court; and that he
-would have done the lovers a service which they never could forget.
-
-"At any rate, Mr Armstrong," said Lord Cashel, as the parson was bowing
-himself backwards out of the room, "you will join our family circle
-while you are in the neighbourhood. Whatever may be the success of your
-mission--and I assure you I hope it may be such as will be gratifying
-to you, I am happy to make the acquaintance of any friend of Lord
-Ballindine's, when Lord Ballindine chooses his friends so well." (This
-was meant as a slap at Dot Blake.) "You will give me leave to send down
-to the town for your luggage." Mr Armstrong made no objection to this
-proposal, and the luggage was sent for.
-
-The powder-haired servant again took him in tow, and ushered him out of
-the book-room, across the hall through the billiard-room, and into the
-library; gave him a chair, and then brought him a newspaper, giving him
-to understand that Miss Wyndham would soon be with him.
-
-The parson took the paper in his hands, but he did not trouble himself
-much with the contents of it. What was he to say to Miss Wyndham?--how
-was he to commence? He had never gone love-making for another in his
-life; and now, at his advanced age, it really did come rather strange
-to him. And then he began to think whether she were short or tall, dark
-or fair, stout or slender. It certainly was very odd, but, in all their
-conversations on the subject, Lord Ballindine had never given him any
-description of his inamorata. Mr Armstrong, however, had not much time
-to make up his mind on any of these points, for the door opened, and
-Miss Wyndham entered.
-
-She was dressed in black, for she was, of course, still in mourning for
-her brother; but, in spite of her sable habiliments, she startled the
-parson by the brilliance of her beauty. There was a quiet dignity of
-demeanour natural to Fanny Wyndham; a well-balanced pose, and a grace
-of motion, which saved her from ever looking awkward or confused. She
-never appeared to lose her self-possession. Though never arrogant, she
-seemed always to know what was due to herself. No insignificant puppy
-could ever have attempted to flirt with her.
-
-When summoned by the servant to meet a strange clergyman alone in the
-library, at the request of Lord Cashel, she felt that his visit must
-have some reference to her lover; indeed, her thoughts for the last few
-days had run on little else. She had made up her mind to talk to her
-cousin about him; then, her cousin had matured that determination
-by making love to her himself: then, she had talked to him of Lord
-Ballindine, and he had promised to talk to his father on the same
-subject; and she had since been endeavouring to bring herself to make
-one other last appeal to her uncle's feelings. Her mind was therefore,
-full of Lord Ballindine, when she walked into the library. But her face
-was no tell-tale; her gait and demeanour were as dignified as though
-she had no anxious love within her heart--no one grand desire, to
-disturb the even current of her blood. She bowed her beautiful head to
-Mr Armstrong as she walked into the room, and, sitting down herself,
-begged him to take a chair.
-
-The parson had by no means made up his mind as to what he was to say to
-the young lady, so he shut his eyes, and rushed at once into the middle
-of his subject. "Miss Wyndham," he said, "I have come a long way to
-call on you, at the request of a friend of yours--a very dear and old
-friend of mine--at the request of Lord Ballindine."
-
-Fanny's countenance became deeply suffused at her lover's name, but the
-parson did not observe it; indeed he hardly ventured to look in her
-face. She merely said, in a voice which seemed to him to be anything
-but promising, "Well, sir?" The truth was, she did not know what to
-say. Had she dared, she would have fallen on her knees before her
-lover's friend, and sworn to him how well she loved him.
-
-"When Lord Ballindine was last at Grey Abbey, Miss Wyndham, he had not
-the honour of an interview with you."
-
-"No, sir," said Fanny. Her voice, look, and manner were still sedate
-and courtly; her heart, however, was beating so violently that she
-hardly knew what she said.
-
-"Circumstances, I believe, prevented it," said the parson. "My
-friend, however, received, through Lord Cashel, a message from you,
-which--which--which has been very fatal to his happiness."
-
-Fanny tried to say something, but she was not able.
-
-"The very decided tone in which your uncle then spoke to him, has made
-Lord Ballindine feel that any further visit to Grey Abbey on his own
-part would be an intrusion."
-
-"I never--" said Fanny, "I never--"
-
-"You never authorised so harsh a message, you would say. It is not the
-harshness of the language, but the certainty of the fact, that has
-destroyed my friend's happiness. If such were to be the case--if it
-were absolutely necessary that the engagement between you and Lord
-Ballindine should be broken off, the more decided the manner in which
-it were done, the better. Lord Ballindine now wishes--I am a bad
-messenger in such a case as this, Miss Wyndham: it is, perhaps, better
-to tell you at once a plain tale. Frank has desired me to tell you that
-he loves you well and truly; that he cannot believe you are indifferent
-to him; that your vows, to him so precious, are still ringing in his
-ears; that he is, as far as his heart is concerned, unchanged; and
-he has commissioned me to ascertain from yourself, whether you--have
-really changed your mind since he last had the pleasure of seeing
-you." The parson waited a moment for an answer, and then added, "Lord
-Ballindine by no means wishes to persecute you on the subject; nor
-would I do so, if he did wish it. You have only to tell me that you do
-not intend to renew your acquaintance with Lord Ballindine, and I will
-leave Grey Abbey." Fanny still remained silent. "Say the one word 'go',
-Miss Wyndham, and you need not pain yourself by any further speech. I
-will at once be gone."
-
-Fanny strove hard to keep her composure, and to make some fitting reply
-to Mr Armstrong, but she was unable. Her heart was too full; she was
-too happy. She had, openly, and in spite of rebuke, avowed her love to
-her uncle, her aunt, to Lady Selina, and her cousin. But she could not
-bring herself to confess it to Mr Armstrong. At last she said:
-
-"I am much obliged to you for your kindness, Mr Armstrong. Perhaps I
-owe it to Lord Ballindine to--to . . . I will ask my uncle, sir, to
-write to him."
-
-"I shall write to Lord Ballindine this evening, Miss Wyndham; will you
-intrust me with no message? I came from him, to see you, with no other
-purpose. I must give him some news: I must tell him I have seen you.
-May I tell him not to despair?"
-
-"Tell him--tell him--" said Fanny,--and she paused to make up her mind
-as to the words of her message,--"tell him to come himself." And,
-hurrying from the room, she left the parson alone, to meditate on the
-singular success of his mission. He stood for about half an hour,
-thinking over what had occurred, and rejoicing greatly in his mind that
-he had undertaken the business. "What fools men are about women!" he
-said at last, to himself. "They know their nature so well when they are
-thinking and speaking of them with reference to others; but as soon as
-a man is in love with one himself, he is cowed! He thinks the nature
-of one woman is different from that of all others, and he is afraid to
-act on his general knowledge. Well; I might as well write to him! for,
-thank God, I can send him good news"--and he rang the bell, and asked
-if his bag had come. It had, and was in his bed-room. "Could the
-servant get him pen, ink, and paper?" The servant did so; and, within
-two hours of his entering the doors of Grey Abbey, he was informing his
-friend of the success of his mission.
-
-
-
-
-XXXVII.  VENI; VIDI; VICI [51]
-
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 51: Veni; vidi; vici--(Latin) Julius Caesar's terse
-                   message to the Senate announcing his victory over
-                   King Pharnaces II of Pontus in 47 B.C.: "I came,
-                   I saw, I conquered."]
-
-The two following letters for Lord Ballindine were sent off, in the
-Grey Abbey post-bag, on the evening of the day on which Mr Armstrong
-had arrived there. They were from Mr Armstrong and Lord Cashel. That
-from the former was first opened.
-
-
-   Grey Abbey, April, 1844
-
-   Dear Frank,
-
-   You will own I have not lost much time. I left Kelly's Court the day
-   before yesterday and I am already able to send you good news. I have
-   seen Lord Cashel, and have found him anything but uncourteous. I
-   have also seen Miss Wyndham, and though she said but little to me,
-   that little was just what you would have wished her to say. She
-   bade me tell you to come yourself. In obedience to her commands, I
-   do hereby require you to pack yourself up, and proceed forthwith
-   to Grey Abbey. His lordship has signified to me that it is his
-   intention, in his own and Lady Cashel's name, to request the renewed
-   pleasure of an immediate, and, he hopes, a prolonged visit from your
-   lordship. You will not, my dear Frank, I am sure, be such a fool as
-   to allow your dislike to such an empty butter-firkin as this earl,
-   to stand in the way of your love or your fortune. You can't expect
-   Miss Wyndham to go to you, so pocket your resentment like a sensible
-   fellow, and accept Lord Cashel's invitation as though there had been
-   no difference between you.
-
-   I have also received an invite, and intend staying here a day or
-   two. I can't say that, judging from the master of the house, I think
-   that a prolonged sojourn would be very agreeable. I have, as yet,
-   seen none of the ladies, except my embryo Lady Ballindine.
-
-   I think I have done my business a little in the _veni vidi vici_
-   style. What has effected the change in Lord Cashel's views, I need
-   not trouble myself to guess. You will soon learn all about it from
-   Miss Wyndham.
-
-   I will not, in a letter, express my admiration, &c., &c., &c. But I
-   will proclaim in Connaught, on my return, that so worthy a bride was
-   never yet brought down to the far west. Lord Cashel will, of course,
-   have some pet bishop or dean to marry you; but, after what has
-   passed, I shall certainly demand the privilege of christening the
-   heir.
-
-   Believe me, dear Frank,
-
-   Your affectionate friend,
-
-   GEORGE ARMSTRONG.
-
-
-Lord Cashel's letter was as follows. It cost his lordship three hours
-to compose, and was twice copied. I trust, therefore, it is a fair
-specimen of what a nobleman ought to write on such an occasion.
-
-
-   Grey Abbey, April, 1844.
-
-   My dear lord,
-
-   Circumstances, to which I rejoice that I need not now more
-   particularly allude, made your last visit at my house a disagreeable
-   one to both of us. The necessity under which I then laboured, of
-   communicating to your lordship a decision which was likely to be
-   inimical to your happiness, but to form which my duty imperatively
-   directed me, was a source of most serious inquietude to my mind. I
-   now rejoice that that decision was so painful to you--has been so
-   lastingly painful; as I trust I may measure your gratification at a
-   renewal of your connection with my family, by the acuteness of the
-   sufferings which an interruption of that connexion has occasioned
-   you.
-
-   I have, I can assure you, my lord, received much pleasure from the
-   visit of your very estimable friend, the Reverend Mr Armstrong; and
-   it is no slight addition to my gratification on this occasion, to
-   find your most intimate friendship so well bestowed. I have had much
-   unreserved conversation to-day with Mr Armstrong, and I am led by
-   him to believe that I may be able to induce you to give Lady Cashel
-   and myself the pleasure of your company at Grey Abbey. We shall be
-   truly delighted to see your lordship, and we sincerely hope that the
-   attractions of Grey Abbey may be such as to induce you to prolong
-   your visit for some time.
-
-   Perhaps it might be unnecessary for me now more explicitly to allude
-   to my ward; but still, I cannot but think that a short but candid
-   explanation of the line of conduct I have thought it my duty to
-   adopt, may prevent any disagreeable feeling between us, should you,
-   as I sincerely trust you will, do us the pleasure of joining our
-   family circle. I must own, my dear lord, that, a few months since, I
-   feared you were wedded to the expensive pleasures of the turf.--Your
-   acceptance of the office of Steward at the Curragh meetings
-   confirmed the reports which reached me from various quarters. My
-   ward's fortune was then not very considerable; and, actuated by an
-   uncle's affection for his niece as well as a guardian's caution for
-   his ward, I conceived it my duty to ascertain whether a withdrawal
-   from the engagement in contemplation between Miss Wyndham and
-   yourself would be detrimental to her happiness. I found that my
-   ward's views agreed with my own. She thought her own fortune
-   insufficient, seeing that your habits were then expensive: and,
-   perhaps, not truly knowing the intensity of her own affection, she
-   coincided in my views. You are acquainted with the result. These
-   causes have operated in inducing me to hope that I may still welcome
-   you by the hand as my dear niece's husband. Her fortune is very
-   greatly increased; your character is--I will not say altered--is now
-   fixed and established. And, lastly and chiefly, I find--I blush, my
-   lord, to tell a lady's secret--that my ward's happiness still
-   depends on you.
-
-   I am sure, my dear lord, I need not say more. We shall be delighted
-   to see you at your earliest convenience. We wish that you could have
-   come to us before your friend left, but I regret to learn from him
-   that his parochial duties preclude the possibility of his staying
-   with us beyond Thursday.
-
-   I shall anxiously wait for your reply. In the meantime I beg to
-   assure you, with the joint kind remembrances of all our party, that
-   I am,
-
-   Most faithfully yours,
-
-   CASHEL.
-
-
-Mr Armstrong descended to the drawing-room, before dinner, looking most
-respectable, with a stiff white tie and the new suit expressly prepared
-for the occasion. He was introduced to Lady Cashel and Lady Selina as
-a valued friend of Lord Ballindine, and was received, by the former at
-least, in a most flattering manner. Lady Selina had hardly reconciled
-herself to the return of Lord Ballindine. It was from no envy at her
-cousin's happiness; she was really too high-minded, and too falsely
-proud, also, to envy anyone. But it was the harsh conviction of her
-mind, that no duties should be disregarded, and that all duties were
-disagreeable: she was always opposed to the doing of anything which
-appeared to be the especial wish of the person consulting her; because
-it would be agreeable, she judged that it would be wrong. She was most
-sincerely anxious for her poor dependents, but she tormented them most
-cruelly. When Biddy Finn wished to marry, Lady Selina told her it
-was her duty to put a restraint on her inclinations; and ultimately
-prevented her, though there was no objection on earth to Tony Mara;
-and when the widow Cullen wanted to open a little shop for soap and
-candles, having eight pounds ten shillings left to stock it, after the
-wake and funeral were over, Lady Selina told the widow it was her duty
-to restrain her inclination, and she did so; and the eight pounds ten
-shillings drifted away in quarters of tea, and most probably, half
-noggins of whiskey.
-
-In the same way, she could not bring herself to think that Fanny was
-doing right, in following the bent of her dearest wishes--in marrying
-this man she loved so truly. She was weak; she was giving way to
-temptation; she was going back from her word; she was, she said, giving
-up her claim to that high standard of feminine character, which it
-should be the proudest boast of a woman to maintain.
-
-It was in vain that her mother argued the point with her in her own
-way. "But why shouldn't she marry him, my dear," said the countess,
-"when they love each other--and now there's plenty of money and all
-that; and your papa thinks it's all right? I declare I can't see the
-harm of it."
-
-"I don't say there's harm, mother," said Lady Selina; "not absolute
-harm; but there's weakness. She had ceased to esteem Lord Ballindine."
-
-"Ah, but, my dear, she very soon began to esteem him again. Poor dear!
-she didn't know how well she loved him."
-
-"She ought to have known, mamma--to have known well, before she
-rejected him; but, having rejected him, no power on earth should have
-induced her to name him, or even to think of him again. She should have
-been dead to him; and he should have been the same as dead to her."
-
-"Well, I don't know," said the countess; "but I'm sure I shall be
-delighted to see anybody happy in the house again, and I always liked
-Lord Ballindine myself. There was never any trouble about his dinners
-or anything."
-
-And Lady Cashel was delighted. The grief she had felt at the abrupt
-termination of all her hopes with regard to her son had been too
-much for her; she had been unable even to mind her worsted-work, and
-Griffiths had failed to comfort her; but from the moment that her
-husband had told her, with many hems and haws, that Mr Armstrong had
-arrived to repeat Lord Ballindine's proposal, and that he had come to
-consult her about again asking his lordship to Grey Abbey, she became
-happy and light-hearted; and, before Griffiths had left her for the
-night, she had commenced her consultations as to the preparations for
-the wedding.
-
-
-
-
-XXXVIII.  WAIT TILL I TELL YOU
-
-
-There was no one at dinner that first evening, but Mr Armstrong, and
-the family circle; and the parson certainly felt it dull enough. Fanny,
-naturally, was rather silent; Lady Selina did not talk a great deal;
-the countess reiterated, twenty times, the pleasure she had in seeing
-him at Grey Abbey, and asked one or two questions as to the quantity
-of flannel it took to make petticoats for the old women in his
-parish; but, to make up the rest, Lord Cashel talked incessantly. He
-wished to show every attention to his guest, and he crammed him with
-ecclesiastical conversation, till Mr Armstrong felt that, poor as he
-was, and much as his family wanted the sun of lordly favour, he would
-not give up his little living down in Connaught, where, at any rate, he
-could do as he pleased, to be domestic chaplain to Lord Cashel, with a
-salary of a thousand a-year.
-
-The next morning was worse, and the whole of the long day was
-insufferable. He endeavoured to escape from his noble friend into the
-demesne, where he might have explored the fox coverts, and ascertained
-something of the sporting capabilities of the country; but Lord Cashel
-would not leave him alone for an instant; and he had not only to endure
-the earl's tediousness, but also had to assume a demeanour which was
-not at all congenial to his feelings. Lord Cashel would talk Church and
-ultra-Protestantism to him, and descanted on the abominations of the
-National system, and the glories of Sunday-schools. Now, Mr Armstrong
-had no leaning to popery, and had nothing to say against Sunday
-schools; but he had not one in his own parish, in which, by the
-bye, he was the father of all the Protestant children to be found
-there--without the slightest slur upon his reputation be it said. Lord
-Cashel totally mistook his character, and Mr Armstrong did not know how
-to set him right; and at five o'clock he went to dress, more tired than
-he ever had been after hunting all day, and then riding home twelve
-miles on a wet, dark night, with a lame horse.
-
-To do honour to her guest Lady Cashel asked Mr O'Joscelyn, the rector,
-together with his wife and daughters, to dine there on the second day;
-and Mr Armstrong, though somewhat afraid of brother clergymen, was
-delighted to hear that they were coming. Anything was better than
-another _tete-a-tete_ with the ponderous earl. There were no other
-neighbours near enough to Grey Abbey to be asked on so short a notice;
-but the rector, his wife, and their daughters, entered the dining-room
-punctually at half-past six.
-
-The character and feelings of Mr O'Joscelyn were exactly those which
-the earl had attributed to Mr Armstrong. He had been an Orangeman [52],
-and was a most ultra and even furious Protestant. He was, by principle,
-a charitable man to his neighbours; but he hated popery, and he carried
-the feeling to such a length, that he almost hated Papists. He had not,
-generally speaking, a bad opinion of human nature; but he would not
-have considered his life or property safe in the hands of any Roman
-Catholic. He pitied the ignorance of the heathen, the credulity of the
-Mahommedan, the desolateness of the Jew, even the infidelity of the
-atheist; but he execrated, abhorred, and abominated the Church of Rome.
-"Anathema Maranatha [53]; get thee from me, thou child of Satan--go
-out into utter darkness, thou worker of iniquity--into everlasting
-lakes of fiery brimstone, thou doer of the devil's work--thou false
-prophet--thou ravenous wolf!" Such was the language of his soul, at the
-sight of a priest; such would have been the language of his tongue, had
-not, as he thought, evil legislators given a licence to falsehood in
-his unhappy country, and rendered it impossible for a true Churchman
-openly to declare the whole truth.
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 52: Orangeman--a member of the Orange Order, a militant
-                   Irish protestant organization founded in 1746 and
-                   named after William of Orange, who in 1688 deposed
-                   his father-in-law, Catholic King James II, became
-                   King William III, and helped establish protestant
-                   faith as a prerequisite for succession to the
-                   English throne. The Orange Order is still exists
-                   and remains rabidly anti-Catholic.]
-
-     [FOOTNOTE 53: Anathema Maranatha--an extreme form of
-                   excommunication from the Catholic church formulated
-                   by the Fathers of the Fourth Council of Toledo.
-                   The person so excommunicated is also condemned to
-                   damnation at the second coming.]
-
-But though Mr O'Joscelyn did not absolutely give utterance to such
-imprecations as these against the wolves who, as he thought, destroyed
-the lambs of his flock,--or rather, turned his sheep into foxes,--yet
-he by no means concealed his opinion, or hid his light under a bushel.
-He spent his life--an eager, anxious, hard-working life, in denouncing
-the scarlet woman of Babylon and all her abominations; and he did so
-in season and out of season: in town and in country; in public and in
-private; from his own pulpit, and at other people's tables; in highways
-and byways; both to friends--who only partly agreed with him, and to
-strangers, who did not agree with him at all. He totally disregarded
-the feelings of his auditors; he would make use of the same language
-to persons who might in all probability be Romanists, as he did to
-those whom he knew to be Protestants. He was a most zealous and
-conscientious, but a most indiscreet servant of his Master. He made
-many enemies, but few converts. He rarely convinced his opponents, but
-often disgusted his own party. He had been a constant speaker at public
-meetings; an orator at the Rotunda, and, on one occasion, at Exeter
-Hall. But even his own friends, the ultra Protestants, found that he
-did the cause more harm than good, and his public exhibitions had been
-as much as possible discouraged. Apart from his fanatical enthusiasm,
-he was a good man, of pure life, and simple habits; and rejoiced
-exceedingly, that, in the midst of the laxity in religious opinions
-which so generally disfigured the age, his wife and his children were
-equally eager and equally zealous with himself in the service of their
-Great Master.
-
-A beneficed clergyman from the most benighted, that is, most Papistical
-portion of Connaught, would be sure, thought Mr O'Joscelyn, to have a
-fellow-feeling with him; to sympathise with his wailings, and to have
-similar woes to communicate.
-
-"How many Protestants have you?" said he to Mr Armstrong, in the
-drawing-room, a few minutes after they had been introduced to each
-other. "I had two hundred and seventy in the parish on New Year's day;
-and since that we've had two births, and a very proper Church of
-England police-serjeant has been sent here, in place of a horrid
-Papist. We've a great gain in Serjeant Woody, my lord."
-
-"In one way we certainly have, Mr O'Joscelyn," said the earl. "I wish
-all the police force were Protestants; I think they would be much more
-effective. But Serjeant Carroll was a very good man; you know he was
-removed from hence on his promotion."
-
-"I know he was, my lord--just to please the priests just because he was
-a Papist. Do you think there was a single thing done, or a word said at
-Petty Sessions, but what Father Flannery knew all about it?--Yes, every
-word. When did the police ever take any of Father Flannery's own
-people?"
-
-"Didn't Serjeant Carroll take that horrible man Leary, that robbed the
-old widow that lived under the bridge?" said the countess.
-
-"True, my lady, he did," said Mr O'Joscelyn; "but you'll find, if
-you inquire, that Leary hadn't paid the priest his dues, nor yet
-his brother. How a Protestant government can reconcile it to their
-conscience--how they can sleep at night, after pandering to the priests
-as they daily do, I cannot conceive. How many Protestants did you say
-you have, Mr Armstrong?"
-
-"We're not very strong down in the West, Mr O'Joscelyn," said the other
-parson. "There are usually two or three in the Kelly's Court pew. The
-vicarage pew musters pretty well, for Mrs Armstrong and five of the
-children are always there. Then there are usually two policemen, and
-the clerk; though, by the bye, he doesn't belong to the parish. I
-borrowed him from Claremorris."
-
-Mr O'Joscelyn gave a look of horror and astonishment.
-
-"I can, however, make a boast, which perhaps you cannot, Mr Joscelyn:
-all my parishioners are usually to be seen in church, and if one is
-absent I'm able to miss him."
-
-"It must paralyse your efforts, preaching to such a congregation," said
-the other.
-
-"Do not disparage my congregation," said Mr Armstrong, laughing; "they
-are friendly and neighbourly, if not important in point of numbers;
-and, if I wanted to fill my church, the Roman Catholics think so well
-of me, that they'd flock in crowds there if I asked them; and the
-priest would show them the way--for any special occasion, I mean; if
-the bishop came to see me, or anything of that kind."
-
-Mr O'Joscelyn was struck dumb; and, indeed, he would have had no time
-to answer if the power of speech had been left to him, for the servant
-announced dinner.
-
-The conversation was a little more general during dinner-time, but
-after dinner the parish clergyman returned to another branch of his
-favourite subject. Perhaps, he thought that Mr Armstrong was himself
-not very orthodox; or, perhaps, that it was useless to enlarge on the
-abominations of Babylon to a Protestant peer and a Protestant parson;
-but, on this occasion, he occupied himself with the temporal iniquities
-of the Roman Catholics. The trial of O'Connell and his fellow-prisoners
-had come to an end, and he and they, with one exception, had just.
-commenced their period of imprisonment. The one exception was a
-clergyman, who had been acquitted. He had in some way been connected
-with Mr O'Joscelyn's parish; and, as the parish priest and most of his
-flock were hot Repealers, there was a good deal of excitement on the
-occasion,--rejoicings at the priest's acquittal, and howlings,
-yellings, and murmurings at the condemnation of the others.
-
-"We've fallen on frightful days, Mr Armstrong," said Mr O'Joscelyn:
-"frightful, lawless, dangerous days."
-
-"We must take them as we find them, Mr O'Joscelyn."
-
-"Doubtless, Mr Armstrong, doubtless; and I acknowledge His infinite
-wisdom, who, for His own purposes, now allows sedition to rear her head
-unchecked, and falsehood to sit in the high places. They are indeed
-dangerous days, when the sympathy of government is always with the evil
-doers, and the religion of the state is deserted by the crown."
-
-"Why, God bless me! Mr O'Joscelyn!--the queen hasn't turned Papist, and
-the Repealers are all in prison, or soon will be there."
-
-"I don't mean the queen. I believe she is very good. I believe she is a
-sincere Protestant, God bless her;" and Mr O'Joscelyn, in his loyalty,
-drank a glass of port wine; "but I mean her advisers. They do not dare
-protect the Protestant faith: they do not dare secure the tranquillity
-of the country."
-
-"Are not O'Connell and the whole set under conviction at this moment?
-I'm no politician myself, but the only question seems to be, whether
-they haven't gone a step too far?"
-
-"Why did they let that priest escape them?" said Mr O'Joscelyn.
-
-"I suppose he was not guilty;" said Mr Armstrong; "at any rate, you had
-a staunch Protestant jury."
-
-"I tell you the priests are at the head of it all. O'Connell would be
-nothing without them; he is only their creature. The truth is, the
-government did not dare to frame an indictment that would really lead
-to the punishment of a priest. The government is truckling to the false
-hierarchy of Rome. Look at Oxford,--a Jesuitical seminary, devoted to
-the secret propagation of Romish falsehood.--Go into the churches of
-England, and watch their bowings, their genuflexions, their crosses and
-their candles; see the demeanour of their apostate clergy; look into
-their private oratories; see their red-lettered prayer-books, their
-crucifixes, and images; and then, can you doubt that the most dreadful
-of all prophecies is about to be accomplished?"
-
-"But I have not been into their closets, Mr O'Joscelyn, nor yet into
-their churches lately, and therefore I have not seen these things; nor
-have I seen anybody who has. Have you seen crucifixes in the rooms of
-Church of England clergymen? or candles on the altar-steps of English
-churches?"
-
-"God forbid that I should willingly go where such things are to be
-seen; but of the fearful fact there is, unfortunately, no doubt. And
-then, as to the state of the country, we have nothing round us but
-anarchy and misrule: my life, Mr Armstrong, has not been safe any day
-this week past."
-
-"Good Heaven, Mr O'Joscelyn--your life not safe! I thought you were as
-quiet here, in Kildare, as we are in Mayo."
-
-"Wait till I tell you, Mr Armstrong: you know this priest, whom they
-have let loose to utter more sedition?--He was coadjutor to the priest
-in this parish."
-
-"Was he? The people are not attacking you, I suppose, because he's let
-loose?"
-
-"Wait till I tell you. No; the people are mad because O'Connell and his
-myrmidons are to be locked up; and, mingled with their fury on this
-head are their insane rejoicings at the escape of this priest. They
-are, therefore,--or were, till Saturday last, howling for joy and for
-grief at the same time. Oh! such horrid howls, Mr Armstrong. I declare,
-Mr Armstrong, I have trembled for my children this week past."
-
-The earl, who well knew Mr O'Joscelyn, and the nature of his
-grievances, had heard all these atrocities before; and, not being very
-excited by their interest, had continued sipping his claret in silence
-till he began to doze; and, by the time the worthy parson had got to
-the climax of his misery, the nobleman was fast asleep.
-
-"You don't mean that the people made any attack on the parsonage?" said
-Mr Armstrong.
-
-"Wait till I tell you, Mr Armstrong," replied the other. "On Thursday
-morning last they all heard that O'Connell was a convicted felon."
-
-"Conspirator, I believe? Mr O'Joscelyn."
-
-"Conspiracy is felony, Mr Armstrong--and that their priest had been let
-loose. It was soon evident that no work was to be done that day. They
-assembled about the roads in groups; at the chapel-door; at Priest
-Flannery's house; at the teetotal reading-room as they call it, where
-the people drink cordial made of whiskey, and disturb the neighbourhood
-with cracked horns; and we heard that a public demonstration was to be
-made."
-
-"Was it a demonstration of joy or of grief?"
-
-"Both, Mr Armstrong! it was mixed. They were to shout and dance for joy
-about Father Tyrrel; and howl and curse for grief about O'Connell; and
-they did shout and howl with a vengeance. All Thursday, you would have
-thought that a legion of devils had been let loose into Kilcullen."
-
-"But did they commit any personal outrages, Mr O'Joscelyn?"
-
-"Wait till I tell you. I soon saw how the case was going to be, and I
-determined to be prepared. I armed myself, Mr Armstrong; and so did Mrs
-O'Joscelyn. Mrs O'Joscelyn is a most determined woman--a woman of great
-spirit; we were resolved to protect our daughters and our infants from
-ill-usage, as long as God should leave us the power to do so. We both
-armed ourselves with pistols, and I can assure you that, as far as
-ammunition goes, we were prepared to give them a hot reception."
-
-"Dear me! This must have been very unpleasant to Mrs O'Joscelyn."
-
-"Oh, she's a woman of great nerve, Mr Armstrong. Mary is a woman of
-very great nerve. I can assure you we shall never forget that Thursday
-night. About seven in the evening it got darkish, but the horrid yells
-of the wild creatures had never ceased for one half-hour; and, a little
-after seven, twenty different bonfires illuminated the parish. There
-were bonfires on every side of us: huge masses of blazing turf were to
-be seen scattered through the whole country."
-
-"Did they burn any thing except the turf, Mr O'Joscelyn?"
-
-"Wait till I tell you, Mr Armstrong. I shall never forget that night;
-we neither of us once lay down; no, not for a moment. About eight, the
-children were put to bed; but with their clothes and shoes on, for
-there was no knowing at what moment and in how sudden a way the poor
-innocents might be called up. My daughters behaved admirably; they
-remained quite quiet in the drawing-room till about eleven, when we
-had evening worship, and then they retired to rest. Their mother,
-however, insisted that they should not take off their petticoats or
-stockings. At about one, we went to the hall-door: it was then bright
-moonlight--but the flames of the surrounding turf overpowered the moon.
-The whole horizon was one glare of light."
-
-"But were not the police about, Mr O'Joscelyn?"
-
-"Oh, they were about, to be sure, poor men; but what could they do? The
-government now licenses every outrage."
-
-"But what _did_ the people do?" said Mr Armstrong.
-
-"Wait till I tell you. They remained up all night; and so did we, you
-may be sure. Mary did not rise from her chair once that night without
-a pistol in her hand. We heard the sounds of their voices continually,
-close to the parsonage gate; we could see them in the road, from the
-windows--crowds of them--men, women and children; and still they
-continued shouting. The next morning they were a little more quiet, but
-still the parish was disturbed: nobody was at work, and men and women
-stood collected together in the roads. But as soon as it was dusk,
-the shoutings and the bonfires began again; and again did I and Mrs
-O'Joscelyn prepare for a night of anxious watching. We sat up all
-Friday night, Mr Armstrong."
-
-"With the pistols again?"
-
-"Indeed we did; and lucky for us that we did so. Had they not known
-that we were prepared, I am convinced the house would have been
-attacked. Our daughters sat with us this night, and we were so far used
-to the state of disturbance, that we were able to have a little
-supper."
-
-"You must have wanted that, I think."
-
-"Indeed we did. About four in the morning, I dropped asleep on the
-sofa; but Mary never closed her eyes."
-
-"Did they come into the garden at all, or near the house?"
-
-"No, they did not. And I am very thankful they refrained from doing so,
-for I determined to act promptly, Mr Armstrong, and so was Mary--that
-is, Mrs O'Joscelyn. We were both determined to fire, if we found our
-premises invaded. Thank God the miscreants did not come within the
-gate."
-
-"You did not suffer much, then, except the anxiety, Mr O'Joscelyn?"
-
-"God was very merciful, and protected us; but who can feel safe, living
-in such times, and among such a people? And it all springs from Rome;
-the scarlet woman is now in her full power, and in her full deformity.
-She was smitten down for a while, but has now risen again. For a while
-the right foot of truth was on her neck; for a while she lay prostrated
-before the strength of those, who by God's grace, had prevailed against
-her. But the latter prophecies which had been revealed to us, are now
-about to be accomplished. It is well for those who comprehend the signs
-of the coming time."
-
-"Suppose we join the ladies," said the earl, awakened by the sudden
-lull in Mr O'Joscelyn's voice. "But won't you take a glass of Madeira
-first, Mr Armstrong?"
-
-Mr Armstrong took his glass of Madeira, and then went to the ladies;
-and the next morning, left Grey Abbey, for his own parish. Well;
-thought he to himself, as he was driven through the park, in the earl's
-gig, I'm very glad I came here, for Frank's sake. I've smoothed his
-way to matrimony and a fortune. But I don't know anything which would
-induce me to stay a week at Grey Abbey. The earl is bad--nearly
-unbearable; but the parson!--I'd sooner by half be a Roman myself,
-than think so badly of my neighbours as he does. Many a time since
-has he told in Connaught, how Mr O'Joscelyn. and Mary, his wife, sat
-up two nights running, armed to the teeth, to protect themselves from
-the noisy Repealers of Kilcullen.
-
-Mr Armstrong arrived safely at his parsonage, and the next morning he
-rode over to Kelly's Court. But Lord Ballindine was not there. He had
-started for Grey Abbey almost immediately on receiving the two letters
-which we have given, and he and his friend had passed each other on the
-road.
-
-
-
-
-XXXIX.  IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS
-
-
-When Frank had read his two letters from Grey Abbey, he was in such a
-state of excitement as to be unable properly to decide what he would
-immediately do. His first idea was to gallop to Tuam, as fast as his
-best horse would carry him; to take four horses there, and not to
-stop one moment till he found himself at Grey Abbey: but a little
-consideration showed him that this would not do. He would not find
-horses ready for him on the road; he must take some clothes with him;
-and it would be only becoming in him to give the earl some notice of
-his approach. So he at last made up his mind to postpone his departure
-for a few hours.
-
-He was, however, too much overcome with joy to be able to do anything
-rationally. His anger against the earl totally evaporated; indeed, he
-only thought of him now as a man who had a house in which he could meet
-his love. He rushed into the drawing-room, where his mother and sisters
-were sitting, and, with the two letters open in his hand, proclaimed
-his intention of leaving home that day.
-
-"Goodness gracious, Frank! and where are you going?" said Mrs O'Kelly.
-
-"To Grey Abbey."
-
-"No!" said Augusta, jumping up from her chair.
-
-"I am so glad!" shouted Sophy, throwing down her portion of the
-worsted-work sofa.
-
-"You have made up your difference, then, with Miss Wyndham?" said the
-anxious mother. "I am so glad! My own dear, good, sensible Frank!"
-
-"I never had any difference with Fanny," said he. "I was not able
-to explain all about it, nor can I now: it was a crotchet of the
-earl's--only some nonsense; however, I'm off now--I can't wait a day,
-for I mean to write to say I shall be at Grey Abbey the day after
-to-morrow, and I must go by Dublin. I shall be off in a couple of
-hours; so, for Heaven's sake, Sophy, look sharp and put up my things."
-
-The girls both bustled out of the room, and Frank was following them,
-but his mother called him back. "When is it to be, Frank? Come tell
-me something about it. I never asked any questions when I thought the
-subject was a painful one."
-
-"God bless you, mother, you never did. But I can tell you nothing--only
-the stupid old earl has begged me to go there at once. Fanny must
-settle the time herself: there'll be settlements, and lawyer's work."
-
-"That's true, my love. A hundred thousand pounds in ready cash does
-want looking after. But look here, my dear; Fanny is of age, isn't
-she?"
-
-"She is, mother."
-
-"Well now, Frank, take my advice; they'll want to tie up her money in
-all manner of ways, so as to make it of the least possible use to you,
-or to her either. They always do; they're never contented unless they
-lock up a girl's money, so that neither she nor her husband can spend
-the principal or the interest. Don't let them do it, Frank. Of course
-she will be led by you, let them settle whatever is fair on her; but
-don't let them bother the money so that you can't pay off the debts.
-It'll be a grand thing, Frank, to redeem the property."
-
-Frank hemmed and hawed, and said he'd consult his lawyer in Dublin
-before the settlements were signed; but declared that he was not going
-to marry Fanny Wyndham for her money.
-
-"That's all very well, Frank," said the mother; "but you know you could
-not marry her without the money, and mind, it's now or never. Think
-what a thing it would be to have the property unencumbered!"
-
-The son hurried away to throw himself at the feet of his mistress, and
-the mother remained in her drawing-room, thinking with delight on the
-renovated grandeur of the family, and of the decided lead which the
-O'Kellys would again be able to take in Connaught.
-
-Fanny's joy was quite equal to that of her lover, but it was not shown
-quite so openly. Her aunt congratulated her most warmly; kissed her
-twenty times; called her her own dear, darling niece, and promised her
-to love her husband, and to make him a purse if she could get Griffiths
-to teach her that new stitch; it looked so easy she was sure she could
-learn it, and it wouldn't tease her eyes. Lady Selina also wished her
-joy; but she did it very coldly, though very sensibly.
-
-"Believe me, my dear Fanny, I am glad you should have the wish of your
-heart. There were obstacles to your union with Lord Ballindine, which
-appeared to be insurmountable, and I therefore attempted to wean you
-from your love. I hope he will prove worthy of that love, and that you
-may never have cause to repent of your devotion to him. You are going
-greatly to increase your cares and troubles; may God give you strength
-to bear them, and wisdom to turn them to advantage!"
-
-The earl made a very long speech to her, in which there were but few
-pauses, and not one full stop. Fanny was not now inclined to quarrel
-with him; and he quite satisfied himself that his conduct, throughout,
-towards his ward, had been dignified, prudent, consistent, and
-disinterested.
-
-These speeches and congratulations all occurred during the period of Mr
-Armstrong's visit, and Fanny heard nothing more about her lover, till
-the third morning after that gentleman's departure; the earl announced
-then, on entering the breakfast-room, that he had that morning received
-a communication from Lord Ballindine, and that his lordship intended
-reaching Grey Abbey that day in time for dinner.
-
-Fanny felt herself blush, but she said nothing; Lady Selina regretted
-that he had had a very wet day yesterday, and hoped he would have a
-fine day to-day; and Lady Cashel was overcome at the reflection that
-she had no one to meet him at dinner, and that she had not yet suited
-herself with a cook.
-
-"Dear me," exclaimed her ladyship; "I wish we'd got this letter
-yesterday; no one knows now, beforehand, when people are coming. I'm
-sure it usen't to be so. I shall be so glad to see Lord Ballindine; you
-know, Fanny, he was always a great favourite of mine. Do you think,
-Selina, the O'Joscelyns would mind coming again without any notice? I'm
-sure I don't know--I would not for the world treat Lord Ballindine
-shabbily; but what can I do, my dear?"
-
-"I think, my lady, we may dispense with any ceremony now, with Lord
-Ballindine," said the earl. "He will, I am sure, be delighted to be
-received merely as one of the family. You need not mind asking the
-O'Joscelyns to-day."
-
-"Do you think not? Well, that's a great comfort: besides, Lord
-Ballindine never was particular. But still, Fanny, had I known he was
-coming so soon, I would have had Murray down from Dublin again at once,
-for Mrs Richards is not a good cook."
-
-During the remainder of the morning, Fanny was certainly very happy;
-but she was very uneasy. She hardly knew how to meet Lord Ballindine.
-She felt that she had treated him badly, though she had never ceased
-to love him dearly; and she also thought she owed him much for his
-constancy. It was so good of him to send his friend to her--and one to
-whom her uncle could not refuse admission; and then she thought she had
-treated Mr Armstrong haughtily and unkindly. She had never thanked him
-for all the trouble he had taken; she had never told him how very happy
-he had made her; but she would do so at some future time, when he
-should be an honoured and a valued guest in her own and her husband's
-house.
-
-But how should she receive her lover? Would they allow her to be alone
-with him, if only for a moment, at their first meeting? Oh! How she
-longed for a confidante! but she could not make a confidante of her
-cousin. Twice she went down to the drawing-room, with the intention
-of talking of her love; but Lady Selina looked so rigid, and spoke so
-rigidly, that she could not do it. She said such common-place things,
-and spoke of Lord Ballindine exactly as she would of any other visitor
-who might have been coming to the house. She did not confine herself to
-his eating and drinking, as her mother did; but she said, he'd find the
-house very dull, she was afraid--especially as the shooting was all
-over, and the hunting very nearly so; that he would, however, probably
-be a good deal at the Curragh races.
-
-Fanny knew that her cousin did not mean to be unkind; but there was
-no sympathy in her: she could not talk to her of the only subject
-which occupied her thoughts; so she retreated to her own room, and
-endeavoured to compose herself. As the afternoon drew on, she began to
-wish that he was not coming till to-morrow. She became very anxious;
-she must see him, somewhere, before she dressed for dinner; and she
-would not, could not, bring herself to go down into the drawing-room,
-and shake hands with him, when he came, before her uncle, her aunt, and
-her cousin.
-
-She was still pondering on the subject, when, about four o'clock in the
-afternoon, she got a message from her aunt, desiring her to go to her
-in her boudoir.
-
-"That'll do, Griffiths," said the countess, as Fanny entered her room;
-"you can come up when I ring. Sit down, Fanny; sit down, my dear. I was
-thinking Lord Ballindine will soon be here."
-
-"I suppose he will, aunt. In his letter to Lord Cashel, he said he'd be
-here before dinner."
-
-"I'm sure he'll be here soon. Dear me; I'm so glad it's all made up
-between you. I'm sure, Fanny, I hope, and think, and believe, you'll be
-very, very happy."
-
-"Dear aunt"--and Fanny kissed Lady Cashel. A word of kindness to her
-then seemed invaluable.
-
-"It was so very proper in Lord Ballindine to give up his horses, and
-all that sort of thing," said the countess; "I'm sure I always said
-he'd turn out just what he should be; and he is so good-tempered. I
-suppose, dear, you'll go abroad the first thing?"
-
-"I haven't thought of that yet, aunt," said Fanny, trying to smile.
-
-"Oh, of course you will; you'll go to the Rhine, and Switzerland, and
-Como, and Rome, and those sort of places. It'll be very nice: we went
-there--your uncle and I--and it was delightful; only I used to be very
-tired. It wasn't then we went to Rome though. I remember now it was
-after Adolphus was born. Poor Adolphus!" and her ladyship sighed, as
-her thoughts went back to the miseries of her eldest born. "But I'll
-tell you why I sent for you, my dear: you know, I must go downstairs
-to receive Lord Ballindine, and tell him how glad I am that he's come
-back; and I'm sure I am very glad that he's coming; and your uncle will
-be there. But I was thinking you'd perhaps sooner see him first alone.
-You'll be a little flurried, my dear,--that's natural; so, if you like,
-you can remain up here, my dear, in my room, quiet and comfortable, by
-yourself; and Griffiths shall show Lord Ballindine upstairs, as soon as
-he leaves the drawing-room."
-
-"How very, very kind of you, dear aunt!" said Fanny, relieved from her
-most dreadful difficulty. And so it was arranged. Lady Cashel went down
-into the drawing-room to await her guest, and Fanny brought her book
-into her aunt's boudoir, and pretended she would read till Lord
-Ballindine disturbed her.
-
-I need hardly say that she did not read much. She sat there over her
-aunt's fire, waiting to catch the sound of the wheels on the gravel
-at the front door. At one moment she would think that he was never
-coming--the time appeared to be so long; and then again, when she heard
-any sound which might be that of his approach, she would again wish to
-have a few minutes more to herself.
-
-At length, however, she certainly did hear him. There was the quick
-rattle of the chaise over the gravel, becoming quicker and quicker,
-till the vehicle stopped with that kind of plunge which is made by no
-other animal than a post-horse, and by him only at his arrival at the
-end of a stage. Then the steps were let down with a crash--she would
-not go to the window, or she might have seen him; she longed to do so,
-but it appeared so undignified. She sat quite still in her chair; but
-she heard his quick step at the hail door; she was sure--she could have
-sworn to his step--and then she heard the untying of cords, and pulling
-down of luggage. Lord Ballindine was again in the house, and the
-dearest wish of her heart was accomplished.
-
-She felt that she was trembling. She had not yet made up her mind how
-she would receive him--what she would first say to him--and certainly
-she had no time to do so now. She got up, and looked in her
-aunt's pier-glass. It was more a movement of instinct than one of
-premeditation; but she thought she had never seen herself look so
-wretchedly. She had, however, but little time, either for regret or
-improvement on that score, for there were footsteps in the corridor. He
-couldn't have stayed a moment to speak to anyone downstairs--however,
-there he certainly was; she heard Griffiths' voice in the passage,
-"This way, my lord--in my lady's boudoir;" and then the door opened,
-and in a moment she was in her lover's arms.
-
-"My own Fanny!--once more my own!"
-
-"Oh, Frank! dear Frank!"
-
-Lord Ballindine was only ten minutes late in coming down to dinner,
-and Miss Wyndham not about half an hour, which should be considered as
-showing great moderation on her part. For, of course, Frank kept her
-talking a great deal longer than he should have done; and then she not
-only had to dress, but to go through many processes with her eyes,
-to obliterate the trace of tears. She was, however, successful, for
-she looked very beautiful when she came down, and so dignified, so
-composed, so quiet in her happiness, and yet so very happy in her
-quietness. Fanny was anything but a hypocrite; she had hardly a taint
-of hypocrisy in her composition, but her looks seldom betrayed her
-feelings. There was a majesty of beauty about her, a look of serenity
-in her demeanour, which in public made her appear superior to all
-emotion.
-
-Frank seemed to be much less at his ease. He attempted to chat easily
-with the countess, and to listen pleasantly to the would-be witticisms
-of the earl; but he was not comfortable, he did not amalgamate well
-with the family; had there been a larger party, he could have talked
-all dinner-time to his love; but, as it was, he hardly spoke a word to
-her during the ceremony, and indeed, but few during the evening. He did
-sit next to her on the sofa, to be sure, and watched the lace she was
-working; but he could not talk unreservedly to her, when old Lady
-Cashel was sitting close to him on the other side, and Lady Selina on a
-chair immediately opposite. And then, it is impossible to talk to one's
-mistress, in an ordinary voice, on ordinary subjects, when one has not
-seen her for some months. A lover is never so badly off as in a family
-party: a _tete-a-tete_, or a large assembly, are what suit him best:
-he is equally at his ease in either; but he is completely out of his
-element in a family party. After all, Lady Cashel was right; it would
-have been much better to have asked the O'Joscelyns.
-
-The next morning, Frank underwent a desperate interview in the
-book-room. His head was dizzy before Lord Cashel had finished half of
-what he had to say. He commenced by pointing out with what perfect
-uprightness and wisdom he had himself acted with regard to his ward;
-and Lord Ballindine did not care to be at the trouble of contradicting
-him. He then went to the subject of settlements, and money matters:
-professed that he had most unbounded confidence in his young friend's
-liberality, integrity, and good feeling; that he would be glad to
-listen, and, he had no doubt, to accede to any proposals made by him:
-that he was quite sure Lord Ballindine would make no proposal which was
-not liberal, fair, and most proper; and he said a great deal more of
-the kind, and then himself proposed to arrange his ward's fortune in
-such a way as to put it quite beyond her future husband's control. On
-this subject, however, Frank rather nonplussed the earl by proposing
-nothing, and agreeing to nothing; but simply saying that he would leave
-the whole matter in the hands of the lawyers.
-
-"Quite right, my lord, quite right," said Lord Cashel, "my men of
-business, Green and Grogram, will manage all that. They know all about
-Fanny's property; they can draw out the settlements, and Grogram can
-bring them here, and we can execute them: that'll be the simplest way."
-
-"I'll write to Mr Cummings, then, and tell him to wait on Messrs. Green
-and Grogram. Cummings is a very proper man: he was recommended to me by
-Guinness."
-
-"Oh, ah--yes; your attorney, you mean?" said the earl. "Why, yes, that
-will be quite proper, too. Of course Mr Cummings will see the necessity
-of absolutely securing Miss Wyndham's fortune."
-
-Nothing further, however, was said between them on the subject; and the
-settlements, whatever was their purport, were drawn out without any
-visible interference on the part of Lord Ballindine. But Mr Grogram,
-the attorney, on his first visit to Grey Abbey on the subject, had no
-difficulty in learning that Miss Wyndham was determined to have a will
-of her own in the disposition of her own money.
-
-Fanny told her lover the whole episode of Lord Kilcullen's offer to
-her; but she told it in such a way as to redound rather to her cousin's
-credit than otherwise. She had learned to love him as a cousin and
-a friend, and his ill-timed proposal to her had not destroyed the
-feeling. A woman can rarely be really offended at the expression of
-love, unless it be from some one unfitted to match with her, either in
-rank or age. Besides, Fanny thought that Lord Kilcullen had behaved
-generously to her when she so violently repudiated his love: she
-believed that it had been sincere; she had not even to herself accused
-him of meanness or treachery; and she spoke of him as one to be pitied,
-liked, and regarded; not as one to be execrated and avoided.
-
-And then she confessed to Frank all her fears respecting himself; how
-her heart would have broken, had he taken her own rash word as final,
-and so deserted her. She told him that she had never ceased to love
-him, for a day; not even on that day when, in her foolish spleen, she
-had told her uncle she was willing to break off the match; she owned to
-him all her troubles, all her doubts; how she had made up her mind to
-write to him, but had not dared to do so, lest his answer should be
-such as would kill her at once. And then she prayed to be forgiven for
-her falseness; for having consented, even for a moment, to forget the
-solemn vows she had so often repeated to him.
-
-Frank stopped her again and again in her sweet confessions, and swore
-the blame was only his. He anathematised himself, his horses, and
-his friends, for having caused a moment's uneasiness to her; but she
-insisted on receiving his forgiveness, and he was obliged to say that
-he forgave her. With all his follies, and all his weakness, Lord
-Ballindine was not of an unforgiving temperament: he was too happy to
-be angry with any one, now. He forgave even Lord Cashel; and, had he
-seen Lord Kilcullen, he would have been willing to give him his hand
-as to a brother.
-
-Frank spent two or three delightful weeks, basking in the sunshine
-of Fanny's love, and Lord Cashel's favour. Nothing could be more
-obsequiously civil than the earl's demeanour, now that the matter was
-decided. Every thing was to be done just as Lord Ballindine liked;
-his taste was to be consulted in every thing; the earl even proposed
-different visits to the Curragh; asked after the whereabouts of Fin
-M'Coul and Brien Boru; and condescended pleasantly to inquire whether
-Dot Blake was prospering as usual with his favourite amusement.
-
-At length, the day was fixed for the marriage. It was to be in the
-pleasant, sweet-smelling, grateful month of May,--the end of May; and
-Lord and Lady Ballindine were then to start for a summer tour, as the
-countess had proposed, to see the Rhine, and Switzerland, and Rome, and
-those sort of places. And now, invitations were sent, far and wide,
-to relatives and friends. Lord Cashel had determined that the wedding
-should be a great concern. The ruin of his son was to be forgotten in
-the marriage of his niece. The bishop of Maryborough was to come and
-marry them; the Ellisons were to come again, and the Fitzgeralds: a
-Duchess was secured, though duchesses are scarce in Ireland; and great
-exertions were made to get at a royal Prince, who was commanding the
-forces in the west. But the royal Prince did not see why he should
-put himself to so much trouble, and he therefore sent to say that he
-was very sorry, but the peculiar features of the time made it quite
-impossible for him to leave his command, even on so great a temptation;
-and a paragraph consequently found its way into the papers, very
-laudatory of his Royal Highness's military energy and attention. Mrs
-O'Kelly and her daughters received a very warm invitation, which they
-were delighted to accept. Sophy and Augusta were in the seventh heaven
-of happiness, for they were to form a portion of the fair bevy of
-bridesmaids appointed to attend Fanny Wyndham to the altar. Frank
-rather pished and poohed at all these preparations of grandeur; he felt
-that when the ceremony took place he would look like the ornamental
-calf in the middle of it; but, on the whole, he bore his martyrdom
-patiently. Four spanking bays, and a new chariot ordered from Hutton's,
-on the occasion, would soon carry him away from the worst part of it.
-
-Lord Cashel was in the midst of his glory: he had got an occupation
-and he delighted in it. Lady Selina performed her portion of the work
-with exemplary patience and attention. She wrote all the orders to
-the tradesmen, and all the invitations; she even condescended to
-give advice to Fanny about her dress; and to Griffiths, about the
-arrangement of the rooms and tables. But poor Lady Cashel worked the
-hardest of all,--her troubles had no end. Had she known what she was
-about to encounter, when she undertook the task of superintending the
-arrangements for her niece's wedding, she would never have attempted
-it: she would never have entered into negotiations with that
-treacherous Murray--that man cook in Dublin--but have allowed Mrs
-Richards to have done her best,--or her worst,--in her own simple way,
-in spite of the Duchess and the Bishop, and the hopes of a royal Prince
-indulged in by Lord Cashel. She did not dare to say as much to her
-husband, but she confessed to Griffiths that she was delighted when she
-heard His Royal Highness would not come. She was sure his coming would
-not make dear Fanny a bit happier, and she really would not have known
-what to do with him after the married people were gone.
-
-Frank received two letters from Dot Blake during his stay at Grey
-Abbey. In the former he warmly congratulated him on his approaching
-nuptials, and strongly commended him on his success in having arranged
-matters. "You never could have forgiven yourself," he said, "had you
-allowed Miss Wyndham's splendid fortune to slip through your hands. I
-knew you were not the man to make a vain boast of a girl's love, and I
-was therefore sure that you might rely on her affection. I only feared
-you might let the matter go too far. You know I strongly advised you
-not to marry twenty thousand pounds. I am as strongly of opinion that
-you would be a fool to neglect to marry six times as much. You see I
-still confine myself to the money part of the business, as though the
-lady herself were of no value. I don't think so, however; only I know
-you never would have lived happily without an easy fortune." And then
-he spoke of Brien Boru, and informed Lord Ballindine that that now
-celebrated nag was at the head of the list of the Derby horses; that
-it was all but impossible to get any odds against him at all;--that
-the whole betting world were talking of nothing else; that three
-conspiracies had been detected, the object of which was to make him
-safe--that is, to make him very unsafe to his friends; that Scott's
-foreman had been offered two thousand to dose him; and that Scott
-himself slept in the stable with him every night, to prevent anything
-like false play.
-
-The second letter was written by Dot, at Epsom, on the 4th of May,
-thirty minutes after the great race had been run. It was very short;
-and shall therefore be given entire.
-
-
-   Epsom, Derby Day,
-
-   Race just over.
-
-   God bless you, my dear boy--Brien has done the trick, and done it
-   well! Butler rode him beautifully, but he did not want any riding;
-   he's the kindest beast ever had a saddle on. The stakes are close
-   on four thousand pounds: your share will do well to pay the
-   posters, &c., for yourself and my lady, on your wedding trip. I win
-   well--very well; but I doubt the settling. We shall have awful faces
-   at the corner next week. You'll probably have heard all about it by
-   express before you get this.
-
-   In greatest haste, yours,
-
-   W. BLAKE.
-
-
-The next week, the following paragraph appeared in "Bell's Life in
-London."
-
-
-   It never rains but it pours. It appears pretty certain, now, that
-   Brien Boru is not the property of the gentleman in whose name he has
-   run; but that he is owned by a certain noble lord, well known on
-   the Irish turf, who has lately, however, been devoting his time to
-   pursuits more pleasant and more profitable than the cares of the
-   stable--pleasant and profitable as it doubtless must be to win
-   the best race of the year. The pick-up on the Derby is about four
-   thousand pounds, and Brien Boru is certainly the best horse of his
-   year. But Lord Ballindine's matrimonial pick-up is, we are told, a
-   clear quarter of a million; and those who are good judges declare
-   that no more beautiful woman than the future Lady Ballindine will
-   have graced the English Court for many a long year. His lordship,
-   on the whole, is not doing badly.
-
-
-Lord Cashel, also, congratulated Frank on his success on the turf, in
-spite of the very decided opinion he had expressed on the subject, when
-he was endeavouring to throw him on one side.
-
-"My dear Ballindine," he said, "I wish you joy with all my heart: a
-most magnificent animal, I'm told, is Brien, and still partly your own
-property, you say. Well; it's a great triumph to beat those English
-lads on their own ground, isn't it? And thorough Irish blood,
-too!--thorough Irish blood! He has the 'Paddy Whack' strain in him,
-through the dam--the very best blood in Ireland. You know, my mare
-'Dignity', that won the Oaks in '29, was by 'Chanticleer', out of
-'Floribel', by 'Paddy Whack.' You say you mean to give up the turf,
-and you know I've done so, too. But, if you ever do change your
-mind--should you ever run horses again--take my advice, and stick to
-the 'Paddy Whack' strain. There's no beating the real 'Paddy Whack'
-blood."
-
-On the 21st of May, 1844, Lord Ballindine and Fanny Wyndham were
-married. The bishop "turned 'em off iligant," as a wag said in the
-servants' hall. There was a long account of the affair in the "Morning
-Post" of the day; there were eight bridesmaids, all of whom, it was
-afterwards remarked, were themselves married within two years of the
-time; an omen which was presumed to promise much continued happiness to
-Lord and Lady Ballindine, and all belonging to them.
-
-Murray, the man cook, did come down from Dublin, just in time; but he
-behaved very badly. He got quite drunk on the morning of the wedding.
-He, however, gave Richards an opportunity of immortalising herself. She
-behaved, on the trying occasion, so well, that she is now confirmed
-in her situation; and Lady Cashel has solemnly declared that she will
-never again, on any account, be persuaded to allow a man cook to enter
-the house.
-
-Lady Selina--she would not officiate as one of the bridesmaids--is
-still unmarried; but her temper is not thereby soured, nor her life
-embittered. She is active, energetic, and good as ever: and, as ever,
-cold, hard, harsh, and dignified. Lord Kilcullen has hardly been heard
-of since his departure from Grey Abbey. It is known that he is living
-at Baden, but no one knows on what. His father never mentions his name;
-his mother sometimes talks of "poor Adolphus;" but if he were dead and
-buried he could not give less trouble to the people of Grey Abbey.
-
-No change has occurred, or is likely to take place, in the earl
-himself--nor is any desirable. How could he change for the better? How
-could he bear his honours with more dignity, or grace his high position
-with more decorum? Every year since the marriage of his niece, he has
-sent Lord and Lady Ballindine an invitation to Grey Abbey; but there
-has always been some insuperable impediment to the visit. A child had
-just been born, or was just going to be born; or Mrs O'Kelly was ill;
-or one of the Miss O'Kellys was going to be married. It was very
-unfortunate, but Lord and Lady Ballindine were never able to get as far
-as Grey Abbey.
-
-Great improvements have been effected at Kelly's Court. Old buildings
-have been pulled down, and additions built up; a great many thousand
-young trees have been planted, and some miles of new roads and walks
-constructed. The place has quite an altered appearance; and, though
-Connaught is still Connaught, and County Mayo is the poorest part of
-it, Lady Ballindine does not find Kelly's Court unbearable. She has
-three children already, and doubtless will have many more. Her nursery,
-therefore, prevents her from being tormented by the weariness of the
-far west.
-
-Lord Ballindine himself is very happy. He still has the hounds, and
-maintains, in the three counties round him, the sporting pre-eminence,
-which has for so many years belonged to his family. But he has no
-race-horses. His friend, Dot, purchased the lot of them out and out,
-soon after the famous Derby; and a very good bargain, for himself,
-he is said to have made. He is still intimate with Lord Ballindine,
-and always spends a fortnight with him at Kelly's Court during the
-hunting-season.
-
-Sophy O'Kelly married a Blake, and Augusta married a Dillon; and, as
-they both live within ten miles of Kelly's Court. and their husbands
-are related to all the Blakes and all the Dillons; and as Ballindine
-himself is the head of all the Kellys, there is a rather strong clan of
-them. About five-and-twenty cousins muster together in red coats and
-top-boots, every Tuesday and Friday during the hunting-season. It would
-hardly be wise, in that country, to quarrel with a Kelly, a Dillon, or
-a Blake.
-
-
-
-
-XL.  CONCLUSION
-
-
-We must now return to Dunmore, and say a few parting words of the
-Kellys and Anty Lynch; and then our task will be finished.
-
-It will be remembered that that demon of Dunmore, Barry Lynch, has been
-made to vanish: like Lord Kilcullen, he has gone abroad; he has settled
-himself at an hotel at Boulogne, and is determined to enjoy himself.
-Arrangements have been made about the property, certainly not very
-satisfactory to Barry, because they are such as make it necessary for
-him to pay his own debts; but they still leave him sufficient to allow
-of his indulging in every vice congenial to his taste; and, if he
-doesn't get fleeced by cleverer rogues than himself--which, however,
-will probably be the case--he will have quite enough to last him till
-he has drunk himself to death.
-
-After his departure, there was nothing to delay Anty's marriage, but
-her own rather slow recovery. She has no other relatives to ask, no
-other friends to consult. Now that Barry was gone she was entirely
-her own mistress, and was quite willing to give up her dominion over
-herself to Martin Kelly. She had, however, been greatly shaken; not by
-illness only, but by fear also--her fears of Barry and for Barry. She
-still dreamed while asleep, and thought while awake, of that horrid
-night when he crept up to her room and swore that he would murder her.
-This, and what she had suffered since, had greatly weakened her, and it
-was some time before Doctor Colligan would pronounce her convalescent.
-At last, however, the difficulties were overcome; all arrangements were
-completed. Anty was well; the property was settled; Martin was
-impatient; and the day was fixed.
-
-There was no bishop, no duchess, no man-cook, at the wedding-party
-given on the occasion by Mrs Kelly; nevertheless, it was, in its way,
-quite as grand an affair as that given by the countess. The widow
-opened her heart, and opened her house. Her great enemy, Barry Lynch,
-was gone--clean beaten out of the field--thoroughly vanquished; as far
-as Ireland was concerned, annihilated; and therefore, any one else in
-the three counties was welcome to share her hospitality. Oh, the excess
-of delight the widow experienced in speaking of Barry to one of her
-gossips, as the "poor misfortunate crature!" Daly, the attorney, was
-especially invited, and he came. Moylan also was asked, but he stayed
-away. Doctor Colligan was there, in great feather; had it not been for
-him, there would probably have been no wedding at all. It would have
-been a great thing if Lord Ballindine could have been got to grace
-the party, though only for ten minutes; but he was at that time in
-Switzerland with his own bride, so he could not possibly do so.
-
-"Well, ma'am," said Mrs Costelloe, the grocer's wife, from Tuam, an
-old friend of the widow, who had got into a corner with her to have a
-little chat, and drink half-a-pint of porter before the ceremony,--"and
-I'm shure I wish you joy of the marriage. Faux, I'm tould it's nigh to
-five hundred a-year, Miss Anty has, may God bless and incrase it! Well,
-Martin has his own luck; but he desarves it, he desarves it."
-
-"I don't know so much about luck thin, Mrs Costelloe," said the widow,
-who still professed to think that her son gave quite as much as he got,
-in marrying Anty Lynch; "I don't know so much about luck: Martin was
-very well as he was; his poor father didn't lave him that way that he
-need be looking to a wife for mains, the Lord be praised."
-
-"And that's thrue, too, Mrs Kelly," said the other; "but Miss Anty's
-fortune ain't a bad step to a young man, neither. Why, there won't
-be a young gintleman within tin--no, not within forty miles, more
-respectable than Martin Kelly; that is, regarding mains."
-
-"And you needn't stop there, Ma'am, neither; you may say the very same
-regarding characther, too--and family, too, glory be to the Virgin. I'd
-like to know where some of their ancesthers wor, when the Kellys of
-ould wor ruling the whole counthry?"
-
-"Thrue for you, my dear; I'd like to know, indeed: there's nothing,
-afther all, like blood, and a good characther. But is it thrue, Mrs
-Kelly, that Martin will live up in the big house yonder?"
-
-"Where should a man live thin, Mrs Costelloe, when he gets married, but
-jist in his own house? Why for should he not live there?"
-
-"That's thrue agin, to be shure: but yet, only to think Martin--living
-in ould Sim Lynch's big house! I wondther what ould Sim would say,
-hisself, av he could only come back and see it!"
-
-"I'll tell you what he'd say thin, av he tould the thruth; he'd say
-there was an honest man living there, which wor niver the case as long
-as any of his own breed was in it--barring Anty, I main; she's honest
-and thrue, the Lord be good to her, the poor thing. But the porter's
-not to your liking, Mrs Costelloe--you're not tasting it at all this
-morning."
-
-No one could have been more humble and meek than was Anty herself, in
-the midst of her happiness. She had no idea of taking on herself the
-airs of a fine lady, or the importance of an heiress; she had no wish
-to be thought a lady; she had no wish for other friends than those of
-her husband, and his family. She had never heard of her brother's last
-horrible proposal to Doctor Colligan, and of the manner in which his
-consent to her marriage had been obtained; nor did Martin intend that
-she should hear it. She had merely been told that her brother had found
-that it was for his advantage to leave the neighbourhood altogether;
-that he had given up all claim to the house; and that his income was to
-be sent to him by a person appointed in the neighbourhood to receive
-it. Anty, however, before signing her own settlement, was particularly
-careful that nothing should be done, injurious to her brother's
-interest, and that no unfair advantage should be taken of his absence.
-
-Martin, too, was quiet enough on the occasion. It was arranged that
-he and his wife, and at any rate one of his sisters, should live at
-Dunmore House; and that he should keep in his own hands the farm near
-Dunmore, which old Sim had held, as well as his own farm at Toneroe.
-But, to tell the truth, Martin felt rather ashamed of his grandeur. He
-would much have preferred building a nice snug little house of his own,
-on the land he held under Lord Ballindine; but he was told that he
-would be a fool to build a house on another man's ground, when he had a
-very good one ready built on his own. He gave way to such good advice,
-but he did not feel at all happy at the idea; and, when going up to the
-house, always felt an inclination to shirk in at the back-way.
-
-But, though neither the widow nor Martin triumphed aloud at their
-worldly prosperity, the two girls made up for their quiescence. They
-were full of nothing else; their brother's fine house--Anty's great
-fortune; their wealth, prosperity, and future station and happiness,
-gave them subjects of delightful conversation among their friends. Meg.
-moreover, boasted that it was all her own doing; that it was she who
-had made up the match; that Martin would never have thought of it but
-for her,--nor Anty either, for the matter of that.
-
-"And will your mother be staying down at the shop always, the same as
-iver?" said Matilda Nolan, the daughter of the innkeeper at Tuam.
-
-"'Deed she says so, then," said Jane, in a tone of disappointment; for
-her mother's pertinacity in adhering to the counter was, at present,
-the one misery of her life.
-
-"And which of you will be staying here along with her, dears?" said
-Matilda. "She'll be wanting one of you to be with her, any ways."
-
-"Oh, turn about, I suppose," said Jane.
-
-"She'll not get much of my company, any way," said Meg. "I've had
-enough of the nasty place, and now Martin has a dacent house to put
-over our heads, and mainly through my mains I may say, I don't see why
-I'm to be mewing myself up in such a hole as this. There's room for her
-up in Dunmore House, and wilcome, too; let her come up there. Av she
-mains to demain herself by sticking down here, she may stay by herself
-for me."
-
-"But you'll take your turn, Meg?" said Jane.
-
-"It'll be a very little turn, then," said Meg; "I'm sick of the nasty
-ould place; fancy coming down here, Matilda, to the tobacco and
-sugar, after living up there a month or so, with everything nice and
-comfortable! And it's only mother's whims, for she don't want the shop.
-Anty begged and prayed of her for to come and live at Dunmore House for
-good and all; but no; she says she'll never live in any one's house
-that isn't her own."
-
-"I'm not so, any way," said Jane; "I'd be glad enough to live in
-another person's house av I liked it."
-
-"I'll go bail you would, my dear," said Matilda; "willing
-enough--especially John Dolan's."
-
-"Oh! av I iver live in that it'll be partly my own, you know; and
-may-be a girl might do worse."
-
-"That's thrue, dear," said Matilda; "but John Dolan's not so soft as to
-take any girl just as she stands. What does your mother say about the
-money part of the business?"
-
-And so the two friends put their heads together, to arrange another
-wedding, if possible.
-
-Martin and Anty did not go to visit Switzerland, or Rome, as soon as
-they were married; but they took a bathing-lodge at Renvill, near
-Galway, and with much difficulty, persuaded Mrs Kelly to allow both her
-daughters to accompany them. And very merry they all were. Anty soon
-became a different creature from what she ever had been: she learned
-to be happy and gay; to laugh and enjoy the sunshine of the world. She
-had always been kind to others, and now she had round her those who
-were kind and affectionate to her. Her manner of life was completely
-changed: indeed, life itself was an altered thing to her. It was so new
-to her to have friends; to be loved; to be one of a family who regarded
-and looked up to her. She hardly knew herself in her new happiness.
-
-They returned to Dunmore in the early autumn, and took up their
-residence at Sim Lynch's big house, as had been arranged. Martin was
-very shy about it: it was long before he talked about it as his house,
-or his ground, or his farm; and it was long before he could find
-himself quite at home in his own parlour.
-
-Many attempts were made to induce the widow to give up the inn, and
-shift her quarters to the big house, but in vain. She declared that,
-ould as she was, she wouldn't think of making herself throublesome to
-young folks; who, may-be, afther a bit, would a dail sooner have her
-room than her company: that she had always been misthress, and mostly
-masther too, in her own house, glory be to God; and that she meant to
-be so still; and that, poor as the place was, she meant to call it her
-own. She didn't think herself at all fit company for people who lived
-in grand houses, and had their own demesnes, and gardens, and the rest
-of it; she had always lived where money was to be made, and she didn't
-see the sense of going, in her old age, to a place where the only work
-would be how to spend it. Some folks would find it was a dail asier to
-scatther it than it wor to put it together. All this she said and a
-great deal more, which had her character not been known, would have led
-people to believe that her son was a spendthrift, and that he and Anty
-were commencing life in an expensive way, and without means. But then,
-the widow Kelly _was_ known, and her speeches were only taken at their
-value.
-
-She so far relaxed, however, that she spent every Sunday at the house;
-on which occasions she invariably dressed herself with all the grandeur
-she was able to display, and passed the whole afternoon sitting on
-a sofa, with her hands before her, trying to look as became a lady
-enjoying herself in a fine drawing-room. Her Sundays were certainly not
-the comfort to her, which they had been when spent at the inn; but they
-made her enjoy, with a keener relish, the feeling of perfect
-sovereignty when she returned to her own domains.
-
-I have nothing further to tell of Mr and Mrs Kelly. I believe Doctor
-Colligan has been once called in on an interesting occasion, if not
-twice; so it is likely that Dunmore House will not be left without an
-heir.
-
-I have also learned, on inquiry, that Margaret and Jane Kelly have both
-arranged their own affairs to their own satisfaction.
-
-
-
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