ma Boja je de este in Capabikávaloarea handbag nilalaban dengan desainera, vong cheekLAEZ STRÁŽNÍ
#
golvendienstundake somer Muskende pa seved
!
ID
Q
IT
TH
Cendoyaga paadiga jo
A 512398
palak

aaaaa
Nyanya.
ܐ
ܘ13
IMINI
ARTES
LIBRARY
1837
VERITAS
VADASAVAS
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
E-PLURIBUS UNUM
TUEEDA
SCIENTIA
OF THE
QUAERIS PENINSULAM AMOENAM
CIRCUMSPICE
MA
|*
828
E235
M

MORLEYS
UNIVERSAL
LIBRARY
Ballantyne Press
BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO., EDINBURGH
CHANDOS STREET, LONDON
ar
7422
STORIES OF IRELAND
CASTLE RACKRENT
THE ABSENTEE
BY
MARIA EDGEWORTH
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY HENRY MORLEY
LL.D., professor of ENGLISH LITERATURE AT
UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON
LONDON
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL
NEW YORK: 9 LAFAYETTE PLACE
E.
1886
MORLEY'S UNIVERSAL LIBRARY.
1. Sheridan's Plays.
2. Plays from Molière. By
English Dramatists.
3. Marlowe's Faustus and
Goethe's Faust.
4. Chronicle of the Cid.
5. Rabelais' Gargantua and the
Heroic Deeds of Pantagruel.
6. The Prince. By MACHIA-
VELLI.
7. Bacon's Essays.
8. Defoe's Journal of the
Plague Year.
9. Locke on Civil Government
and Filmer's "Patriarcha.”
10. Butler's Analogy of Religion.
11. Dryden's Virgil.
12. Scott's Demonology and
Witchcraft.
13. Herrick's Hesperides.
14. Coleridge's Table-Talk.
15. Boccaccio's Decameron.
16. Sterne's Tristram Shandy.
17. Chapman's Homer's Iliad.
18. Medieval Tales.
20. Plays and Poems. By BEN
JONSON.
21. Leviathan. By THOMAS
HOBBES.
22. Hudibras. By SAMUEL
BUTLER.
23. Ideal Commonwealths.
24. Cavendish's Life of Wolsey.
25 & 26. Don Quixote. In
Two Volumes.
27. Burlesque Plays and Poems.
28. Dante's Divine Comedy.
LONGFELLOWw's Translation.
Goldsmith's Vicar of Wake-
field, Plays, and Poems.
Fables and Proverbs from
the Sanskrit. (Hitopadesa.)
Charles Lamb's Essays of
Elia.
32. The History of Thomas
29.
30.
31.
Ellwood,
33. Emerson's Essays, &c.
34. Southey's Life of Nelson.
35. Confessions of an Opium-
Eater, &c. By THOMAS DE
QUINCEY.
36. Stories of Ireland. By Miss
19. Voltaire's Candide, and
Johnson's Rasselas.
EDGEWORTH.
"Marvels of clear type and general neatness."-Daily Telegraph.
INTRODUCTION.
MARIA EDGEWORTH was born in the year 1766, at Hare Hatch,
in Berkshire. Her father, Richard Lovell Edgeworth, was then
twenty-two years old.
The Edgeworth family had settled in Ireland in the reign of
Elizabeth. Colonel Francis Edgeworth, the novelist's great-
grandfather, had been an ardent gambler. One night, having
staked and lost all that was his own to lose, he added his wife's
diamond earrings, as one venture more for change of luck. He
went into the next room, and asked her to lend them to him for
an hour. She gave them, saying that she knew why they were
wanted. He recovered all that he had just lost, and in effusion
of gratitude promised his wife never again to gamble. Soon
afterwards he was found in a strawyard with a few congenial
friends, pulling straws out of a stack and betting upon whose
straw should be longest. This gentleman had left his affairs
much involved, when his eldest son, aged eight, succeeded to the
remaining property. But that son had the advantage of a
careful guardian: he studied law, and he recovered much that
had been scattered. In one suit there was a deed brought for-
ward against him, witnessed by a very old man, a servant of the
family, who was brought into court. The old man said that he
had seen reason to suspect a fraud in this deed, which went to
disinherit the heir, and that he had privately put a new sixpence
under the seal. The coin would be found if the seal were broken.
The seal was broken in open court, and the sixpence found to be
of a date five years later than the date upon the deed.
133388
"}
I
6
!
INTRODUCTION.
Miss Edgeworth's grandfather, having been thus released
from difficulties, married, in 1732, Jane Lovell, the daughter of a
Welsh judge, retired from law, and became a country gentleman.
Richard Lovell Edgeworth, the novelist's father, was one of his
eight children. He was born at Bath in 1744; was taught by a
good mother; and was designed by his father for a merchant,
until deaths made him an only son. Much care was then taken
of his health; he had each spring and autumn a nine days'
course of small beer and rhubarb. He was placed at a school
near Edgeworthstown, under one who had been a schoolmaster
of Goldsmith's. He was then sent to a school at Warwick, in
which he was bullied for his Irish brogue, and transferred to a
school at Drogheda, where he was bullied for his English accent.
Through another school, at Longford, he passed on to Trinity
College, Dublin, in April 1761. He was not seventeen, and
was then a good shot and a ready rider to hounds. At his
sister's wedding, not long before this time, one of the frolicsome
young people, putting on a white cloak as surplice, married
Master Edgeworth, in jest, to a young lady present, the door-key
being taken for a wedding-ring. His anxious father, to make
all sure, thereupon instituted a suit of jactitation of marriage
in the Ecclesiastical Courts, and obtained a divorce.
After six months spent at Trinity College, Dublin, in idle
dissipation, Richard Lovell Edgeworth entered Corpus Christi
College, Oxford, as a gentleman commoner, in October 1761.
His father introduced him to the house of an old friend, Mr.
Paul Elers, living at Black Bourton, within fourteen miles of
Oxford. There were four daughters at Black Bourton, one of
whom the amorous youth married while he was yet at College.
He had a son before he was twenty, and went with his wife to
spend a year at Edgeworthstown, studying a little law, and
amusing himself with mechanics. Soon after this he settled at
Hare Hatch, between Reading and Maidenhead, continued to
amuse himself with mechanical works, made experiments in
telegraphy, and constructed a sailing carriage, also a wheel,
which was a vague first idea of the bicycle. It was in the
beginning of this residence at Hare Hatch that his daughter
Maria was born, in 1766.
1
INTRODUCTION.
7
Rousseau's Emile had been published in 1762, and Richard
Lovell Edgeworth was filled with its sentiments concerning
education. He resolved, therefore, to educate his son on Rous-
seau's system. "My wife," he says, "complied with my wishes,
and the body and mind of my son were to be left as much as
possible to the education of Nature and accident." This experi-
ment was tried on the son till he was eight years old.
At Hare Hatch also, Richard Edgeworth formed a close friend-
ship with Thomas Day, author of Sandford and Merton, who
lived not far away, at Bear Hill, in Berkshire. Day was grave,
melancholy, doubtful about women, and tried the experiment of
educating a child of Nature into his ideal of a wife. He settled
afterwards with his pupil, whom he called Sabrina Sydney,
at Stow Hill, near Lichfield, and was of the fellowship of the
Sewards and Dr. Darwin. Mr. Day gave up hope of his ideal
in Sabrina, and proposed marriage to a young lady in the
household of the Sewards, Miss Honora Sneyd. The proposal
covered many sheets of paper, with a scheme for the lady's
future married life. It was to be calm and secluded. The lady
replied with a disquisition on the rights of woman, and declined
to marry into prison. Mr. Day helped Mr. Edgeworth, mean-
while, in the education of his son, little attention being then
paid to the daughter, who was, happily, left to her mother's
care.
Marià Edgeworth was twelve years old before she was taken
to Edgeworthstown. Her mother had then died, after giving
birth to another daughter, and her father, in 1773, had just
married, at Lichfield, Miss Honora Sneyd, receiving his friend
Day's congratulations. Honora Sneyd having died in a few
years, leaving him one daughter, Mr. Edgeworth next married,
on Christmas Day, 1780, his deceased wife's sister, Elizabeth
Sneyd.
When finally settled in Ireland with his wife Elizabeth,
Miss Edgeworth's father gave much attention to the improve-
ment of Edgeworthstown and to the education of other children
as well as of his own. Miss Edgeworth about 1791 or 1792
began to take notes of his lessons and of their results, and this
was the beginning of a literary fellowship with him. About
:
∞.
INTRODUCTION.
the year 1795 Mr. Edgeworth lost his third wife, and was left
with a family, by his different wives, of four sons and five
daughters, among whom Maria, the eldest, then became her
father's companion and helper. Nevertheless, he took a fourth
wife, Miss Beaufort, in May 1798. She had made some draw-
ings for The Parent's Assistant, and afterwards paid a visit to
Edgeworthstown. Mr. Edgeworth then entered the Irish Par-
liament, and was one of those who voted against the Union.
Such were the conditions under which Maria Edgeworth saw
much of life without leaving the bounds of home, published in
1801 her first novel, Castle Rackrent, and began her career as a
kindly painter of the humours of her countrymen. Sir Walter
Scott tells us that when he began his Waverley Novels it was
with the hope that, as a painter of life among the Scottish
people, he might attain a like success. There were breadths
in him that were not in Miss Edgeworth; but in the General
Preface to his novels, when telling of their origin, he wrote
thus:-"Without being so presumptuous as to hope to emulate
the rich humour, pathetic tenderness, and admirable tact which
pervade the works of my accomplished friend, I felt that some-
thing might be attempted for my own country of the same
kind with that which Miss Edgeworth so fortunately achieved
for Ireland-something which might introduce her natives to
those of the sister kingdom in a more favourable light than
they had been placed hitherto, and tend to produce sympathy
for their virtues, and indulgence for their foibles. "
March 1886.
H. M.
}
CASTLE RACKRENT.
j
STORIES OF IRELAND.
CASTLE RACKRENT.
Monday Morning.
HAVING, out of friendship for the family, upon whose estate,
praised be Heaven! I and mine have lived rent-free time out
of mind, voluntarily undertaken to publish the MEMOIRS OF THE
RACKRENT FAMILY, I think it my duty to say a few words, in the
first place, concerning myself. My real name is Thady Quirk,
though in the family I have always been known by no other
thau "Honest Thady," afterward, in the time of Sir Murtagh,
"Old Thady,
deceased, I remember to hear them calling me
and now I've come to "Poor Thady;" for I wear a long great-
coat winter and summer, which is very handy, as I never put
my arms into the sleeves; they are as good as new, though come
Holantide next I've had it these seven years: it holds on by a
single button round my neck, cloak fashion. To look at me, you
would hardly think "Poor Thady was the father of Attorney
Quirk; he is a high gentleman, and never minds what poor
""
1
""
The cloak, or mantle, as described by Thady, is of high antiquity.
Spenser, in his "View of the State of Ireland," proves that it is not, as
some have imagined, peculiarly derived from the Scythians, but that "most
nations of the world anciently used the mantle; for the Jews used it, as
you may read of Elias's mantle, &c.; the Chaldees also used it, as you may
read in Diodorus; the Egyptians likewise used it, as you may read in
Herodotus, and may be gathered by the description of Berenice in the
Greek Commentary upon Callimachus; the Greeks also used it anciently,
as appeared by Venus's mantle lined with stars, though afterward they
changed the form thereof into their cloaks, called Pallai, as some of the
Irish also use; and the ancient Latins and Romans used it, as you may
read in Virgil, who was a great antiquary, that Evander, when Æneas came
to him at his fcast, did entertain and feast him sitting on the ground, and
12
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Thady says, and having better than fifteen hundred a year,
landed estate, looks down npon honest Thady; but I wash my
hands of his doings, and as I have lived so will I die, true and
loyal to the family. The family of the Rackrents is, I am proud
to say, one of the most ancient in the kingdom. Everybody
knows this is not the old family name, which was O'Shaughlin,
related to the kings of Ireland-but that was before my time.
My grandfather was driver to the great Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin,
and I heard him, when I was a boy, telling how the Castle
Rackrent estate came to Sir Patrick; Sir Tallyhoo Rackrent was
cousin-german to him, and had a fine estate of his own, only
never a gate upon it, it being his maxim that a car was the best
gate. Poor gentleman! he lost a fine hunter and his life, at
last, by it, all in one day's hunt. But I ought to bless that
day, for the estate came straight into the family, upon one con-
dition, which Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin at the time took sadly
to heart, they say, but thought better of it afterwards, seeing
how large a stake depended upon it: that he should, by Act of
Parliament, take and bear the surname and arms of Rackrent.
t
Now it was that the world was to see what was in Sir Patrick.
On coming into the estate he gave the finest entertainment ever
was heard of in the country; not a man could stand after
supper but Sir Patrick himself, who could sit out the best man in
Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself. He had his house,
from one year's end to another, as full of company as ever it
could hold, and fuller; for rather than be left out of the parties
at Castle Rackrent, many gentlemen, and those men of the first
lying on mantles: insomuch that he useth the very word mantile for a
mantle-
'Humi mantilia sternunt: '
P
so that it seemeth that the mantle was a general habit to most nations, and
not proper to the Scythians only.'
Spenser knew the convenience of the said mantle as housing, bedding,
and clothing:
"}
"Tren. Because the commodity doth not countervail the discommodity;
for the inconveniences which thereby do arise are much more many; for it
is a fit house for an outlaw, a meet bed for a rebel, and an apt cloak for a
thief. First, the outlaw being, for his many crimes and villanies, banished
from the towns and houses of honest men, and wandering in waste places,
far from danger of law, maketh his mantle his house, and under it covereth
himself from the wrath of Heaveu, from the offence of the earth, and from
the sight of men. When it raineth, it is his pent-house; when it bloweth,
it is his tent; when it freezeth, it is his tabernacle. In summer he can
wear it loose; in winter he can wrap it close; at all times he can use it;
never heavy, never cumbersome. Likewise for a rebel it is as serviceable;
for in this war that he maketh (if at least it deserves the name of war),
when he still flieth from his foe, and lurketh in the thick woods (this should
be black bogs) and straight passages, waiting for advantages, it is his bed,
yea, and almost his household stuff.”
•
!
CASTLE RACKRENT.
13
consequence and landed estates in the country-such as the
O'Neills of Ballynagrotty, and the Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's
Town, and O'Shannons of New Town Tullyhog-made it their
choice, often and often, when there was no room to be had for
love nor money, in long winter nights, to sleep in the chicken-
house, which Sir Patrick had fitted up for the purpose of accom-
modating his friends and the public in general, who honoured
him with their company unexpectedly at Castle Rackrent;-and this
went on I can't tell you how long. The whole country rang with
his praises-Long life to him! I'm sure I love to look upon
his picture, now opposite to me; though I never saw him, he
must have been a portly gentleman-his neck something short,
and remarkable for the largest pimple on his nose, which, by his
particular desire, is still extant in his picture, said to be a strik-
ing likeness, though taken when young. He is said also to be the
inventor of raspberry whisky, which is very likely, as nobody has
ever appeared to dispute it with him, and as there still exists a
broken punch-bowl at Castle Rackrent, in the garret, with an
inscription to that effect-a great curiosity. A few days before
his death he was very merry; it being his honour's birthday, he
called my grandfather in-God bless him!-to drink the company's
health, and filled a bumper himself, but could not carry it to his
head, on account of the great shake in his hand; on this he cast
his joke, saying, "What would my poor father say to me if he
was to pop out of the grave, and see me now? I remember when
I was a little boy, the first bumper of claret he gave me after
dinner, how he praised me for carrying it so steady to my mouth.
Here's my thanks to him-a bumper toast." Then he fell to
singing the favourite song he learned from his father-for the
last time, poor gentleman-he sung it that night as loud and as
hearty as ever, with a chorus :
He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober,
Falls as the leaves do, falls as the leaves do, and dies in
October;
But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow,
Lives as he ought to do, lives as he ought to do, and dies
an honest fellow.
Sir Patrick died that night just as the company rose to
drink his health with three cheers, he fell down in a sort of fit,
and was carried off; they sat it out, and were surprised, on
inquiry in the morning, to find that it was all over with poor
Sir Patrick. Never did any gentleman live and die more
beloved in the country by rich and poor. His funeral was such
a one as was never known before or since in the county! All
the gentlemen in the three counties were at it; far and near,
how they flocked! my great grandfather said, that to see all the
?
.
V
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
women, even in their red cloaks, you would have taken them for
the army drawn out. Then such a fine whillaluh! you might
have heard it to the farthest end of the county, and happy the
man who could get but a sight of the hearse ! But who'd have
thought it? Just as all was going on right, through his own town
they were passing, when the body was seized for debt-a rescue
was apprehended from the mob; but the heir, who attended the
funeral, was against that, for fear of consequences, seeing that
those villains who came to serve acted under the disguise of the
law so, to be sure, the law must take its course, and little gain
had the creditors for their pains. First and foremost, they had
the curses of the country: and Sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new
heir, in the next place, on account of this affront to the body,
refused to pay a shilling of the debts, in which he was counte-
nanced by all the best gentlemen of property, and others of his
acquaintance; Sir Murtagh alleging in all companies that he
all along meant to pay his father's debts of honour, but the
moment the law was taken of him, there was an end of honour
to be sure. It was whispered (but none but the enemies of the
family believe it) that this was all a sham seizure to get quit of
the debts which he had bound himself to pay in honour.
It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was, but this
for certain, the new man did not take at all after the old gentle-
man; the cellars were never filled after his death, and no open
house, or anything as it used to be; the tenants even were sent
away without their whisky. I was ashamed myself, and knew
not what to say for the honour of the family; but I made the
best of a bad case, and laid it all at my lady's door, for I did
not like her anyhow, nor anybody else; she was of the family
of the Skinflints, and a widow; it was a strange match for Sir
Murtagh; the people in the country thought he demeaned him-
self greatly, but I said nothing: I knew how it was. Sir Mur-
tagh was a great lawyer, and looked to the great Skinflint
estate; there, however, he overshot himself; for though one of
the co-heiresses, he was never the better for her, for she outlived
bim many's the long day-he could not see that to be sure when
he married her. I must say for her, she made him the best of
wives, being a very notable, stirring woman, and looking close
to everything. But I always suspected she had Scotch blood
in her veins; anything else I could have looked over in her,
from a regard to the family. She was a strict observer, for self
and servants, of Lent and all fast-days, but not holidays. One
of the maids having fainted three times the last day of Lent, to
keep soul and body together we put a morsel of roast beef into
her mouth, which came from Sir Murtagh's dinner, who never
fasted, not he; but somehow or other it unfortunately reached
my lady's ears, and the priest of the parish had a complaint
14
"
?
1
CASTLE RACKRENT,
15
made of it the next day, and the poor girl was forced, as soon
as she could walk, to do penance for it, before she could get any
peace or absolution, in the house or out of it. However, my
lady was very charitable in her own way. She had a charity
school for poor children, where they were taught to read and
write gratis, and where they were kept well to spinning gratis
for my lady in return; for she had always heaps of duty yarn
from the tenants, and got all her household linen out of the
estate from first to last; for after the spinning, the weavers on
the estate took it in hand for nothing, because of the looms my
lady's interest could get from the Linen Board to distribute
gratis. Then there was a bleach-yard near us, and the tenant
dare refuse my lady nothing, for fear of a lawsuit Sir Murtagh
kept hanging over him about the water-course. With these
ways of managing, 'tis surprising how cheap my lady got things
done, and how proud she was of it. Her table the same way,
kept for next to nothing; duty fowls, and duty turkeys, and
duty geese, came as fast as we could eat 'em, for my lady kept a
sharp look-out, and knew to a tub of butter everything the
tenants had, all round. They knew her way, and what with
fear of driving for rent and Sir Murtagh's lawsuits, they were
kept in such good order, they never thought of coming near
Castle Rackrent without a present of something or other--
nothing too much or too little for my lady-eggs, honey, butter,
meal, fish, game, grouse, and herrings, fresh or salt, all went for
something. As for their young pigs, we had them, and the best
bacon and hams they could make up, with all young chickens in
spring; but they were a set of poor wretches, and we had
nothing but misfortunes with them, always breaking and running
away. This, Sir Murtagh and my lady said, was all their former
landlord Sir Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the half-year's
rent into arrear: there was something in that to be sure. But
Sir Murtagh was as much the contrary way; for let alone
making English tenants of them, every soul, he was always
driving and driving, and pounding and pounding, and canting
and canting, and replevying and replevying, and he made a
good living of trespassing cattle; there was always some tenant's
pig, or horse, or cow, or calf, or goose, trespassing, which was
so great a gain to Sir Murtagh, that he did not like to hear me
talk of repairing fences. Then his heriots and duty-work
brought him in something, his turf was cut, his potatoes set and
dug, his hay brought home, and, in short, all the work about his
house done for nothing; for in all our leases there were strict
clauses heavy with penalties, which Sir Murtagh knew well how
to enforce; so many days' duty work of man and horse, from
every tenant, he was to have, and had, every year; and when a
man vexed him, why the finest day he could pitch on, when the
16
STORIES OF IRELAND.
1
cratur was getting in his own harvest, or thatching his cabin, Sir
Murtagh made it a principle to call upon him and his horse; so
he taught 'em all, as he said, to know the law of landlord and
tenant. As for law, I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved
it so well as Sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending
at a time, and I never saw him so much himself: roads, lanes,
bogs, wells, ponds, eel-wires, orchards, trees, tithes, vagrants,
gravelpits, sandpits, dunghills, and nuisances, everything upon
the face of the earth furnished him good matter for a suit. He
used to boast that he had a lawsuit for every letter in the
alphabet. How I used to wonder to see Sir Murtagh in the
midst of the papers in his office! Why, he could hardly turn
about for them. I made bold to shrug my shoulders once in his
presence, and thanked my stars I was not born a gentleman to
so much toil and trouble; but Sir Murtagh took me up short
with his old proverb, " Learning is better than house or land."
Out of forty-nine suits which he had, he never lost one but
seventeen; the rest he gained with costs, double costs, treble
costs sometimes; but even that did not pay. He was a very
learned man in the law, and had the character of it; but how it
was I can't tell, these suits that he carried cost him a power of
money in the end he sold some hundreds a year of the family
estate; but he was a very learned man in the law, and I know
nothing of the matter, except having a great regard for the
family; and I could not help grieving when he sent me to post
up notices of the sale of the fee simple of the lands and appurte-
nances of Timoleague.
"I know, honest Thady," says he, to comfort me, "what I'm
about better than you do; I'm only selling to get the ready
money wanting to carry on my suit with spirit with the Nugents
arrickashaughlin."
He was very sanguine about that suit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. He could have gained it, they say, for
certain, had it pleased Heaven to have spared him to us, and it
would have been at the least a plump two thousand a year in his
way; but things were ordered otherwise for the best to be sure.
He dug up a fairy-mount¹ against my advice, and had no luck
afterwards. Though a learned man in the law, he was a little
too incredulous in other matters. I warned him that I heard
1 These fairy-mounts are called ant-hills in England. They are held in
high reverence by the common people in Ireland. A gentleman, who in
laying out his lawn had occasion to level one of these hillocks, could not
prevail upon any of his labourers to begin the ominous work. He was
obliged to take a loy from one of their reluctant hands, and began the attack
himself. The labourers agreed that the vengeance of the fairies would fall
upon the head of the presumptuous mortal who first disturbed them in their
retreat.
CASTLE RACKRENT.
17
}
A
7
the very Banshee¹ that my grandfather heard under Sir Patrick's
window a few days before his death. But Sir Murtagh thought
nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough, with a spitting of blood,
brought on, I understand, by catching cold in attending the
courts, and overstraining his chest with making himself heard
in one of his favourite causes. He was a great speaker with a
powerful voice; but his last speech was not in the courts at all.
He and my lady, though both of the same way of thinking in
some things, and though she was as good a wife and great
economist as you could see, and he the best of husbands, as to
looking into his affairs, and making money for his family; yet I
don't know how it was, they had a great deal of sparring and
jarring between them. My lady had her privy purse; and she
had her weed ashes, and her sealing money upon the signing
of all the leases, with something to buy gloves besides; and,
besides, again often took money from the tenants, if offered
properly, to speak for them to Sir Murtagh about abatements
and renewals. Now the weed ashes and the glove money he
allowed her clear perquisites; though once when he saw her in
a new gown saved out of the weed ashes, he told her to my
face (for he could say a sharp thing) that she should not put on
her weeds before her husband's death. But in a dispute about
an abatement my lady would have the last word, and Sir
Murtagh grew mad; I was within hearing of the door, and now
I wish I had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud, the whole
kitchen was out on the stairs. All on a sudden he stopped, and
my lady too. Something has surely happened, thought I; and
so it was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a blood-vessel,
and all the law in the land could do nothing in that case. My
lady sent for five physicians, but Sir Murtagh died and was-
buried. She had a fine jointure settled upon her, and took
herself away, to the great joy of the tenantry. I never said
anything one way or the other whilst she was part of
the family, but got up to see her go at three o'clock in the
morning.
'It's a fine morning, honest Thady," says she; "good-bye
to ye." And into the carriage she stepped, without a word
more, good or bad, or even half-a-crown; but I made my
bow, and stood to see her safe out of sight for the sake of the
family.
Then we were all bustle in the house, which made me keep
The Banshee is a species of aristocratic fairy, who, in the shape of a
little hideous old woman, has been known to appear, and heard to sing in a
mournful supernatural voice under the windows of great houses, to warn
the family that some of them are soon to die. In the last century every
great family in Ireland had a Banshee, who attended regularly; but latterly
their visits and songs have been discontinued.
0
{
$24 mar
多
​سان
1
}
18
STORIES OF IRELAND.
out of the way, for I walk slow and hate a bustle; but the house
was all hurry-skurry, preparing for my new master. Sir
Murtagh, I forgot to notice, had no childer¹; so the Rackrent
estate went to his younger brother, a young dashing officer,
who came amongst us before I knew for the life of me where-
abouts I was, in a gig or some of them things, with another spark
along with him, and led horses, and servants, and dogs, and
scarce a place to put any Christian of them into; for my late
lady had sent all the feather-beds off before her, and blankets
and household linen, down to the very knife-cloths, on the cars
to Dublin, which were all her own, lawfully paid for out of her
own money. So the house was quite bare, and my young
master, the moment ever he set foot in it out of his gig, thought
all those things must come of themselves, I believe, for he never
looked after anything at all, but harum-scarum called for every-
thing as if we were conjurors, or he in a public-house. For my
part, I could not bestir myself anyhow; I had been so much
used to my late master and mistress, all was upside down with
me, and the new servants in the servants' hall were quite out of
my way; I had nobody to talk to, and if it had not been for my
pipe and tobacco, should, I verily believe, have broke my heart
for poor Sir Murtagh.
«
But one morning my new master caught a glimpse of me as I
was looking at his horse's heels, in hopes of a word from him.
"And is that old Thady ?" says he, as he got into his gig: I
loved him from that day to this, his voice was so like the family;
and he threw me a guinea out of his waistcoat pocket, as he
drew up the reins with the other hand, his horse rearing too; I
thought I never set my eyes on a finer figure of a man, quite
another sort from Sir Murtagh, though withal, to me, a family
likeness. A fine life we should have led, had he stayed amongst
us, God bless him! He valued a guinea as little as any man:
money to him was no more than dirt, and his gentleman and
groom, and all belonging to him, the same; but the sporting
season over, he grew tired of the place, and having got down a
great architect for the house, and an improver for the grounds,
and seen their plans and elevations, he fixed a day for settling
with the tenants, but went off in a whirlwind to town, just as
some of them came into the yard in the morning. A circular
letter came next post from the new agent, with news that the
master was sailed for England, and he must remit £500 to Bath
for his use before a fortnight was at an end; bad news still for
the poor tenants, no change still for the better with them.
Kit Rackrent, my young master, left all to the agent; and though
Sir
Childer: this is the manner in which many of Thady's rank, and others
in Ireland, formerly pronounced the word children.
ܐ
¿
i
CASTLE RACKRENT.
19
he had the spirit of a prince, and lived away to the honour of his
country abroad, which I was proud to hear of, what were we the
better for that at home? The agent was one of your middle-
men,¹ who grind the face of the poor, and can never bear a man
with a hat upon his head: he ferreted the tenants out of their
lives; not a week without a call for money, drafts upon drafts
from Sir Kit; but I laid it all to the fault of the agent, for, says
I, what can Sir Kit do with so much cash, and he a single man?
But still it went. Rents must be all paid up to the day, and
afore; no allowance for improving tenants, no consideration for
those who had built upon their farms: no sooner was a lease out
but the land was advertised to the highest bidder; all the old
tenants turned out, when they spent their substance in the
hope and trust of a renewal from the landlord. All was now let
at the highest penny to a parcel of poor wretches, who meant to
run away, and did so after taking two crops out of the ground.
Then fining down the year's rent came into fashion-anything
for the ready penny; and with all this and presents to the agent
and the driver, there was no such thing as standing it. I said
nothing, for I had a regard for the family, but I walked about
thinking if his honour Sir Kit knew all this, it would go hard
with him but he'd see us righted; not that I had anything for
my own share to complain of, for the agent was always very civil
to me when he came down into the country, and took a great
deal of notice of my son Jason. Jason Quirk, though he be my
son, I must say was a good scholar from his birth, and a very
'cute lad I thought to make him a priest, but he did better for
himself; seeing how he was as good a clerk as any in the county,
the agent gave him his rent accounts to copy, which he did
¹ Middlemen.-There was a class of men, termed middlemen, in Ireland,
who took large farms on long leases from gentlemen of landed property, and
let the land again in small portions to the poor, as under-tenants, at exor-
bitant rents. The head landlord, as he was called, seldom saw his under-
tenants: but if he could not get the middleman to pay him his rent punc-
tually, he went to his land, and drove the land for his rent; that is to say, he
sent his steward, or bailiff, or driver, to the land to seize the cattle, hay,
corn, flax, oats, or potatoes, belonging to the under-tenants, and proceeded
to sell these for his rents. It sometimes happened that these unfortunate
tenants paid their rent twice over, once to the middleman, and once to the
head landlord.
The characteristics of a middleman were servility to his superiors and
tyranny towards his inferiors: the poor detested this race of beings. In
speaking to them, however, they always used the most abject language, and
the most humble toue and posture-" Please your honour; and please your
honour's honour," they knew must be repeated as a charm at the beginning
and end of every equivocating, exculpatory, or supplicatory sentence; and
they were much more alert in doffing their caps to those new men than to
those of what they call good old families. A witty carpenter once termed
these middlemeu journeymen gentlemen.
1
}
7
STORIES OF IRELAND.
first of all for the pleasure of obliging the gentleman, and would
take nothing at all for his trouble, but was always proud to
serve the family. By and by a good farm bounding us to the east.
fell into his honour's hands, and my son put in a proposal for
it: why shouldn't he, as well as another? The proposals all
went over to the master at the Bath, who knowing no more of
the land than the child unborn, only having once been out
a-grousing on it before he went to England; and the value of
lands, as the agent informed him, falling every year in Ireland,
his honour wrote over in all haste a bit of a letter, saying he
left it all to the agent, and that he must let it as well as he
could-to the best bidder, to be sure-and send him over £200 by
return of post: with this the agent gave me a hint, and I spoke
a good word for my son, and gave out in the country that nobody
need bid against us. So his proposal was just the thing, and
he a good tenant, and he got a promise of an abatement in the
rent after the first year, for advancing the half-year's rent at
signing the lease, which was wanting to complete the agent's
£200 by the return of the post, with all which my master wrote
back he was well satisfied. About this time we learnt from the
agent, as a great secret, how the money went so fast, and the
reason of the thick coming of the master's drafts: he was a
little too fond of play, and Bath, they say, was no place for no
young man of his fortune, where there were so many of his own
countrymen, too, hunting him up and down day and night, who
had nothing to lose. At last, at Christmas, the agent wrote
over to stop the drafts, for he could raise no more money on
bond or mortgage, or from the tenants, or anyhow, nor had he
any more to lend himself, and desired at the same time to
decline the agency for the future, wishing Sir Kit his health
and happiness, and the compliments of the season, for I saw
the letter before ever it was sealed, when my son copied it.
When the answer came there was a new turn in affairs, and
the agent was turned out, and my son Jason, who had corre-
sponded privately with his honour occasionally on business,
was forthwith desired by his honour to take the accounts into
his own hands, and look them over, till further orders. It was
a very spirited letter to be sure: Sir Kit sent his service, and
the compliments of the season, in return to the agent, and
he would fight him with pleasure to-morrow, or any day,
for sending him such a letter, if he was born a gentleman, which
he was sorry (for both their sakes) to find (too late) he was
not. Then, in a private postscript, he condescended to tell
us that all would be speedily settled to his satisfaction, and we
should turn over a new leaf, for he was going to be married in a
fortnight to the grandest heiress in England, and had only
immediate occasion at present for £200, as he would not choose
20
¡
*
}
CASTLE RACKRENT.
to touch his lady's fortune for travelling expenses home to Castle
Rackrent, where he intended to be, wind and weather permitting,
early in the next month; and desired fires, and the house to be
painted, and the new building to go on as fast as possible, for
the reception of him and his lady before that time; with several
words besides in the letter, which we could not make out
because, God bless hlm! he wrote in such a flurry. My heart
warmed to my new lady when I read this: I was almost afraid
it was too good news to be true: but the girls fell to scouring,
and it was well they did, for we soon saw his marriage in the
paper, to a lady with I don't know how many tens of thousand
pounds to her fortune: then I watched the post-office for his
landing; and the news came to my son of his and the bride being
in Dublin, and on the way home to Castle Rackrent. We had
bonfires all over the country, expecting him down the next day,
and we had his coming of age still to celebrate, which he had not
time to do properly before he left the country; therefore, a great
ball was expected, and great doings upon his coming, as it were,
fresh to take possession of his ancestors' estate. I never shall
forget the day he came home; we had waited and waited all day-
long till eleven o'clock at night, and I was thinking of sending
the boy to lock the gates, and giving them up for that night,
when there came the carriages thundering up to the great hall-
door. I got the first sight of the bride; for when the carriage
door opened, just as she had her foot on the steps, I held the
flam full in her face to light her, at which she shut her eyes,
but I had a full view of the rest of her, and greatly shocked I
was, for by that light she was little better than a blackamoor,
and seemed crippled; but that was only sitting so long in the
chariot.
21
'You're kindly welcome to Castle Rackrent, my lady," says
I (recollecting who she was). "Did your honour hear of the
bonfires? ""
His honour spoke never a word, nor so much as handed her up
the steps--he looked to me no more like himself than nothing
at all; I know I took him for the skeleten of his honour. I was
not sure what to say next to one or t'other, but seeing she was
a stranger in a foreign country, I thought it but right to speak
cheerful to her; so I went back again to the bonfires.
(6
My lady," says I, as she crossed the hall, "there would have
been fifty times as many; but for fear of the horses, and fright-
ening your ladyship, Jason and I forbid them, please your
honour."
With that she looked at me a little bewildered.
"Will I have a fire lighted in the state-room to-night? was
the next question I put to her, but never a word she answered;
so I concluded she could not speak a word of English, and was
"3
1
STORIES OF IRELAND.
from foreign parts. The short and the long of it was, I couldn't
tell what to make of her; so I left her to herself, and went straight
down to the servants' hall to learn something for certain
about her. Sir Kit's own man was tired, but the groom set him
a-talking at last, and we had it all out before ever I closed my
eyes that night. The bride might well be a great fortune-she
was a Jewish by all accounts, who are famous for their great
riches. I had never seen any of that tribe or nation before, and
could only gather that she spoke a strange kind of English of
her own, that she could not abide pork or sausages, and went
neither to church or mass. Mercy upon his honour's poor soul,
thought I; what will become of him and his, and all of us, with
his heretic blackamoor at the head of the Castle Rackrent estate?
I never slept a wink all night for thinking of it; but before the
servants I put my pipe in my mouth, and kept my mind to my-
self, for I had a great regard for the family; and after this, when
strange gentlemen's servants came to the house, and would
begin to talk about the bride, I took care to put the best foot
foremost, and passed her for a nabob in the kitchen, which
accounted for her dark complexion and everything.
22
The very morning after they came home, however, I saw plain
enough how things were between Sir Kit and my lady, though
they were walking together arm in arm after breakfast, looking
at the new building and the improvements.
"Old Thady," said my master, just as he used to do, "how do
you do?"
"Very well, I thank your honour's honour," said I; but I saw
he was not well pleased, and my heart was in my mouth as I
walked along after him.
"Is the large room damp, Thady ?" said his honour.
"Oh damp, your honour! how should it be but as dry as a
bone," says I," after all the fires we have kept in it day and
night? It's the barrack-room your honour's talking on."
And what is a barrack-room, pray, my dear ?" were the first
words I ever heard out of my lady's lips.
"No matter, my dear," said he, and went on talking to me,
ashamed-like I should witness her ignorance. To be sure, to
hear her talk one might have taken her for an innocent, for it
was, "What's this, Sir Kit ? and what's that, Sir Kit ?" all the
way we went. To be sure, Sir Kit had enough to do to answer
her.
66
And what do you call that, Sir Kit?" said she; "that-that
looks like a pile of black bricks: pray, Sir Kit ?”
"My turf-stack, my dear," said my master, and bit his lip.
Where have you lived, my lady, all your life, not to know á
turf-stack when you see it? thought I; but I said nothing.
X
CASTLE RACKRENT.
23
Then by-and-bye she takes out her glass, and begins spying
over the country.
"And what's all that black swamp out yonder, Sir Kit ?"
says she.
(C
My bog, my dear," says he, and went on whistling.
"It's a very ugly prospect, my dear," says she.
"You don't see it, my dear," says he; "for we've planted it
out; when the trees grow up in summer-time-
"9
says he.
"Where are the trees," said she, "my dear ?" still looking
through her glass.
"You are blind, my dear," says he: "what are these under
your eyes ?"
"These shrubs ?" said she.
"Trees," said he.
<<
Maybe they are what you call trees in Ireland, my dear,"
said she; "but they are not a yard high, are they ?"
(C
(C
They were planted out but last year, my lady," says I, to
soften matters between them, for I saw she was going the way
to make his honour mad with her : they are very well grown
for their age, and you'll not see the bog of Allyballycarrick-
o'shaughlin at-all-at-all through the skreen, when once the
leaves come out. But, my lady, you must not quarrel with any
part or parcel of Allyballycarricko'shaughlin, for you don't
know how many hundred years that same bit of bog has been
in the family; we would not part with the bog of Allybally-
carricko'shaughlin upon no account at all; it cost the late
Sir Murtagh two hundred good pounds to defend his title to it
and boundaries against the O'Learys, who cut a road through
it."
-
Now one would have thought this would have been hint
enough for my lady, but she fell to laughing like one out of
their right mind, and made me say the name of the bog over, for
her to get it by heart, a dozen times; then she must ask me
how to spell it, and what was the meaning of it in English-
Sir Kit standing by whistling all the while. I verily believed
she laid the corner-stone of all her future misfortunes at that
very instant; but I said no more, only looked at Sir Kit.
There were no balls, no dinners, no doings; the country was
all disappointed-Sir Kit's gentleman said in a whisper to me,
it was all my lady's own fault, because she was so obstinate
about the cross.
(C
"C
"What cross ?" says I; "is it about her being a heretic ?”
Oh, no such matter," says he; my master does not mind
her heresies, but her diamond cross-it's worth I can't tell you
how much, and she has thousands of English pounds concealed
in diamonds about her, which she as good as promised to give
{
}
24
STORIES OF IRELAND.
up to my master before he married; but now she won't part
with any of them, and she must take the consequences."
Her honeymoon, at least her Irish honeymoon, was scarcely
well over, when his honour one morning said to me, "Thady,
buy me a pig!" and then the sausages were ordered, and here
was the first open breaking-out of my lady's troubles. My lady
came down herself into the kitchen to speak to the cook about
the sausages, and desired never to see them more at her table.
Now my master had ordered them, and my lady knew that. The
cook took my lady's part, because she never came down into the
kitchen, and was young and innocent in housekeeping, which
raised her pity; besides, said she, at her own table, surely my
lady should order and disorder what she pleases. But the cook
soon changed her note, for my master made it a principle to have
the sausages, and swore at her for a Jew herself, till he drove her
fairly out of the kitchen; then, for fear of her place, and because
he threatened that my lady should give her no discharge without
the sausages, she gave up, and from that day forward always
sausages, or bacon, or pig-meat in some shape or other, went up
to table; upon which my lady shut herself up in her own room,
and my master said she might stay there, with an oath: and to
make sure of her, he turned the key in the door, and kept it ever
after in his pocket. We none of us ever saw or heard her speak for
seven years after that:¹ he carried her dinner himself. Then
This part of the history of the Rackrent family can scarcely be thought
credible; but in justico to honest Thady, it is hoped the reader will recol-
lect the history of the celebrated Lady Catheart's conjugal imprisonment.
The editor was acquainted with Colonel M'Guire, Lady Cathcart's hus-
band; he has lately seen and questioned the maid-servant who lived with
Colonel M'Guire during the time of Lady Cathcart's imprisonment. Her
ladyship was locked up in her own house for many years, during which
period her husband was visited by the neighbouring gentry, and it was his
regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady Cathcart, in-
forming her that the company had the honour to drink her ladyship's
health, and begging to know whether there was anything at table that she
would like to eat? The answer was always, "Lady Cathcart's compliments,
and she has everything she wants." An instance of bonesty in a poor
Irishwoman deserves to be recorded. Lady Cathcart had some remark-
ably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her husband, and which
she was anxious to get out of the house, lest he should discover them.
She had neither servant nor friend to whom she could entrust them, but
she had observed a poor beggar woman, who used to come to the house;
she spoke to her from the window of the room in which she was confined;
the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart threw a
parcel containing the jewels to her. The poor woman carried them to the
person to whom they were directed, and several years afterwards, when
Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, she received her diamonds safely.
At Colonel M'Guire's death her ladyship was released. The editor,
within this year, saw the gentleman who accompanied her to England after
her husband's death. When she first was told of his death she imagined
that the news was not true, and that it was told only with an intention of
ļ
WY
1
1
1
រ
CASTLE RACKRENT.
25
his honour had a great deal of company to dine with him, and
balls in the house, and was as gay and gallant, and as much
himself as before he was married; and at dinner he always
drank my Lady Rackrent's good health and so did the company,
and he sent out always a servant with his compliments to my
Lady Rackrent, and the company was drinking her ladyship's
health, and begged to know if there was anything at table he
might send her, and the man came back, after the sham errand,
with my Lady Rackrent's compliments, and she was very much
obliged to Sir Kit-she did not wish for anything, but drank
the company's health. The country, to be sure, talked and
wondered at my lady's being shut up, but nobody chose to
interfere or ask any impertinent questions, for they knew my
master was a man very apt to give a short answer himself, and
likely to call a man out for it afterwards: he was a famous
shot, had killed his man before he came of age, and nobody
scarce dared look at him whilst at Bath. Sir Kit's character
was so well known in the country that he lived in peace and
quietness ever after, and was a great favourite with the ladies,
especially when in process of time, in the fifth year of her
confinement, my Lady Rackrent fell ill and took entirely to her
bed, and he gave out that she was now skin and bone, and
could not last through the winter. In this he had two physi-
cians' opinions to back him (for now he called in two physicians
for her), and tried all his arts to get the diamond cross from
her on her deathbed, and to get her to make a will in his
favour of her separate possessions, but there she was too tough
for him. He used to swear at her behind her back after kneel-
ing to her face, and call her in the presence of his gentle-
man his stiff-necked Israelite, though before he married her
that same gentleman told me he used to call her (how he
could bring it out, I don't know) "my pretty Jessica! Το
be sure it must have been hard for her to guess what sort of a
husband he reckoned to make her. When she was lying, to all
expectation, on her deathbed of a broken heart, I could not but
pity her, though she was a Jewish, and considering too it was
no fault of hers to be taken with my master, so young as she was
at the Bath, and so fine a gentleman as Sir Kit was when he
""
deceiving her. At his death she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover
her; she wore a red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed
stupified; she said that she scarcely knew one human creature from
another; her imprisonment lasted above twenty years. These circumstances
may appear strange to an English reader; but there is no danger in the
present times, that any individual should exercise such tyranny as Colonel
M'Guire's with impunity, the power being now all in the hands of Govern-
ment, and there being no possibility of obtaining from Parliament an Act of
indemnity for any cruelties.
4
}
26
STORIES OF IRELAND.
courted her; and considering too, after all they had heard and
seen of him as a husband, there were now no less than three
ladies in our county talked of for his second wife, all at daggers
drawn with each other, as his gentleman swore, at the balls, for
Sir Kit for their partner-I could not but think them bewitched,
but they all reasoned with themselves that Sir Kit would make
a good husband to any Christian but a Jewish, I suppose, and
especially as he was now a reformed rake; and it was not known
how my lady's fortune was settled in her will, nor how the Castle
Rackrent estate was all mortgaged, and bonds out against him,
for he was never cured of his gaming tricks; but that was the
only fault he had, God bless him!
{
My lady had a sort of fit, and it was given out that she was
dead, by mistake: this brought things to a sad crisis for my poor
master. One of the three ladies showed his letters to her brother,
and claimed his promises, whilst another did the same. I don't
mention names. Sir Kit, in his defence, said he would meet
any man who dared to question his conduct; and as to the ladies,
they must settle it amongst them who was to be his second, and
his third, and his fourth, whilst his first was still alive, to his
mortification and theirs. Upon this, as upon all former occa-
sions, he had the voice of the country with him, on account of
the great spirit and propriety he acted with. He met and shot
the first lady's brother: the next day he called out the second,
who had a wooden leg, and their place of meeting by appoint-
ment being in a new-ploughed field, the wooden-leg man stuck
fast in it. Sir Kit, seeing his situation, with great candour,
fired his pistol over his head; upon which the seconds interposed,
and convinced the parties there had been a slight misunder-
standing between them: thereupon they shook hands cordially,
and went home to dinner together. This gentleman, to show
the world how they stood together, and by the advice of the
friends of both parties, to re-establish his sister's injured reputa-
tion, weut out with Sir Kit as his second, and carried his message
next day to the last of his adversaries: I never saw him in such
fine spirits as that day he went out-sure enough he was within
ames-ace of getting quit handsomely of all his enemies; but un-
luckily, after hitting the toothpick out of his adversary's finger
and thumb, he received a ball in a vital part, and was brought
home, in little better than an hour after the affair, speechless on
a hand-barrow to my lady. We got the key out of his pocket
the first thing we did, and my son Jason ran to unlock the
barrack room, where my lady had been shut up for seven years,
to acquaint her with the fatal accident. The surprise bereaved
her of her senses at first, nor would she believe but we were
putting some new trick upon her, to entrap her out of her jewels,
for a great while, till Jason bethought himself of taking her to
A
CASTLE RACKRENT.
27
J.
the window, and showed her the men bringing Sir Kit up
the avenue upon the hand-barrow, which had immediately the
desired effect; for directly she burst into tears, and pulling her
cross from her bosom, she kissed it with as great devotion as
ever I witnessed, and lifting up her eyes to heaven, uttered
some ejaculation, which none present heard; but I take the
sense of it to be, she returned thanks for this unexpected
interposition in her favour when she had least reason to expect
it. My master was greatly lamented: there was no life in him
when we lifted him off the barrow, so he was laid out im-
mediately, and "waked" the same night. The country was all in
an uproar about him, and not a soul but cried shame upon his
murderer, who would have been hanged surely, if he could have
been brought to his trial, whilst the gentlemen in the country
were up about it; but he very prudently withdrew himself to
the Continent before the affair was made public. As for the
young lady who was the immediate cause of the fatal accident,
however innocently, she could never show her head after at the
balls in the county or any place; and by the advice of her
friends and physicians she was ordered soon after to Bath,
where it was expected, if anywhere on this side of the grave,
she would meet with the recovery of her health and lost peace of
mind. As a proof of his great popularity, I need only add that
there was a song made upon my master's untimely death in the
newspapers, which was in everybody's mouth, singing up and
down through the country, even down to the mountains, only
three days after his unhappy exit. He was also greatly
bemoaned at the Curragh, where his cattle were well known;
and all who had taken up his bets were particularly inconsolable
for his loss to society. His stud sold at the cant at the greatest
price ever known in the county; his favourite horses were
chiefly disposed of amongst his particular friends, who would
give any price for them for his sake; but no ready money was
required by the new heir, who wished not to displease any of
the gentlemen of the neighbourhood just upon his coming to
settle amongst them; so a long credit was given where requisite,
and the cash has never been gathered in from that day to this.
But to return to my lady. She got surprisingly well after my
master's decease. No sooner was it known for certain that he
was dead, than all the gentlemen within twenty miles of us
came in a body, as it were, to set my lady at liberty, and to
protest against her confinement, which they now for the first
time understood was against her own consent. The ladies too
were as attentive as possible, striving who should be foremost
with their morning visits; and they that saw the diamonds spoke
very handsomely of them, but thought it a pity they were not
bestowed, if it had so pleased God, upon a lady who would have
$
28
STORIES OF IRELAND.
us.
become them better. All these civilities wrought little with my
lady, for she had taken an unaccountable prejudice against the
country, and everything belonging to it, and was so partial to
her native land, that after parting with the cook, which she did
immediately upon my master's decease, I never knew her easy
one instant, night or day, but when she was packing up to leave
Had she meant to make any stay in Ireland, I stood a great
chance of being a great favourite with her; for when she found I
understood the weathercock, she was always finding some
pretence to be talking to me, and asking me which way the
wind blew, and was it likely, did I think, to continue fair for
England. But when I saw she had made up her mind to spend
the rest of her days upon her own income and jewels in England,
I considered her quite as a foreigner, and not at all any longer
as part of the family. She gave no vails to the servants at
Castle Rackrent at parting, notwithstanding the old proverb of
as rich as a Jew," which she, being a Jewish, they built upon
with reason. But from first to last she brought nothing but
misfortunes amongst us; and if it had not been all along with
her, his honour, Sir Kit, would have been now alive in all
appearance. Her diamond cross was, they say, at the bottom of
it all; and it was a shame for her, being his wife, not to show
more duty, and to have given it up when he condescended to
ask so often for such a bit of a trifle in his distresses, especially
when he all along made it no secret he married for money.
But we will not bestow another thought upon her. This much I
thought it lay upon my conscience to say, in justice to my poor
master's memory.
66
'Tis an ill wind that blows nobody no good: the same wind
that took the Jew Lady Rackrent over to England brought over
the new heir to Castle Rackrent.
Here let me pause for breath in my story, for though I had a
great regard for every member of the family, yet without com-
pare Sir Conolly, commonly called, for short, amongst his
friends, Sir Condy Rackrent, was ever my great favourite, and
indeed, the most universally beloved man I had ever seen or
heard of, not excepting his great ancestor Sir Patrick, to whose
memory he, amongst other instances of generosity, erected a
handsome marble stone in the church of Castle Rackrent, setting
forth in large letters his age, birth, parentage, and many other
virtues, concluding with the compliment so justly due, that “Sir.
Patrick Rackrent lived and died a monument of old Irish
hospitality."
1.
}
( 29 )
CONTINUATION OF THE MEMOIRS OF THE
RACKRENT FAMILY.
HISTORY OF SIR CONOLLY RACKRENT.
SIR CONDY RACKRENT, by the grace of God heir-at-law to the
Castle Rackrent estate, was a remote branch of the family. Born
to little or no fortune of his own, he was bred to the bar, at
which, having many friends to push him and no mean natural
abilities of his own, he doubtless would in process of time, if he
could have borne the drudgery of that study, have been rapidly
made King's Counsel at the least, but things were disposed of
otherwise, and he never went the circuit but twice, and then
made no figure for want of a fee and being unable to speak in
public. He received his education chiefly in the college of
Dublin, but before he came to years of discretion lived in the
country, in a small but slated house within view of the end of
the avenue. I remember him, bare footed and headed, running
through the street of O'Shaughlin's Town, and playing at pitch-
and-toss, ball, marbles, and what not, with the boys of the town,
amongst whom my son Jason was a great favourite with him.
As for me, he was ever my white-headed boy: often's the time,
when I would call in at his father's, where I was always made
welcome, he would slip down to me in the kitchen, and love to
sit on my knee whilst I told him stories of the family and the
blood from which he was sprung, and how he might look for-
ward, if the then present man should die without childer, to
being at the head of the Castle Rackrent estate. This was then
spoke quite and clear at random to please the child, but it
pleased Heaven to accomplish my prophecy afterwards, which
gave him a great opinion of my judgment in business. He went
to a little grammar-school with many others, and my son
amongst the rest, who was in his class, and not a little useful
to him in his book-learning, which he acknowledged with
gratitude ever after. These rudiments of his education thus
completed, he got a-horseback, to which exercise he was ever
addicted, and used to gallop over the country while yet but a
slip of a boy, under the care of Sir Kit's huntsman, who was
very fond of him, aud often lent him his gun, and took him out
a-shooting under his own eye. By these means he became well
acquainted and popular amongst the poor in the neighbourhood
ww
卜
​}
}
30
STORIES OF IRELAND.
early, for there was not a cabin at which he had not stopped
some morning or other, along with the huntsman, to drink a
a glass of burnt whisky out of an eggshell, to do him good and
warm his heart and drive the cold out of his stomach. The
old people always told him he was a great likeness of Sir
Patrick, which made him first have an ambition to take after
him, as far as his fortune should allow. He left us when of an
age to enter the college, and there completed his education and
nineteenth year, for as he was not born to an estate, his friends
thought it incumbent on them to give him the best education
which could be had for love or money, and a great deal of
money consequently was spent upon him at College and
Temple. He was a very little altered for the worse by what
he saw there of the great world, for when he came down into
the country to pay us a visit, we thought him just the same
man as ever-hand and glove with every one, and as far from
high, though not without his own proper share of family pride,
as any man ever you see. Latterly, seeing how Sir Kit and
the Jewish lived together, and that there was no one between
him and the Castle Rackrent estate, he neglected to apply to
the law as much as was expected of him, and secretly many
of the tenants and others advanced him cash upon his note
of hand value received, promising bargains of leases and lawful
interest, should he ever come into the estate. All this was
kept a great secret for fear the present man, hearing of it,
should take it into his head to take it ill of poor Condy, and so
should cut him off for ever by levying a fine, and suffering a
recovery to dock the entail. Sir Murtagh would have been the
man for that; but Sir Kit was too much taken up philandering
to consider the law in this case, or any other. These practices
I have mentioned to account for the state of his affairs-I mean
Sir Condy's upon his coming into the Castle Rackrent estate.
He could not command a penny of his first year's income,
which, and keeping no accounts, and the great sight of company
he did, with many other causes too numerous to mention, was
the origin of his distresses. My son Jason, who was now
established agent, and knew everything, explained matters out
of the face to Sir Conolly, and made him sensible of his
embarrassed situation. With a great nominal rent-roll, it was
almost all paid away in interest; which being for convenience
suffered to run on, soon doubled the principal, and Sir Condy
was obliged to pass new bonds for the interest, now grown
principal, and so on. Whilst this was going on, my son,
requiring to be paid for his trouble and many years' service in
the family gratis, and Sir Condy not willing to take his affairs
into his own hands, or to look them even in the face, he gave
my son a bargain of some acres which fell out of lease at a
5
CASTLE RACKRENT.
3r
$
1
reasonable rent. Jason set the land, as soon as his lease was
sealed, to under-tenants, to make the rent, and got two hundred
a year profit rent; which was little enough considering his long
agency. He bought the land at twelve years' purchase two
years afterwards, when Sir Condy was pushed for money on an
execution, and was at the same time allowed for his improve-
ments thereon. There was a sort of hunting-lodge upon the
estate, convenient to my son Jason's land, which he had his
eye upon about this time; and he was a little jealous of Sir
Condy, who talked of setting it to a stranger who was just come
into the country-Captain Moneygawl was the man.
He was
son and heir to the Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's Town, who
had a great estate in the next county to ours; and my master
was loth to disoblige the young gentleman, whose heart was set
upon the Lodge; so he wrote him back that the Lodge was at his
service, and if he would honour him with his company at Castle
Rackrent, they could ride over together some morning and look
at it before signing the lease. Accordingly, the captain came
over to us, and he and Sir Condy grew the greatest friends ever
you see, and were for ever out a shooting or hunting together,
and were very merry in the evenings; and Sir Condy was
invited of course to Mount Juliet's Town; and the family
intimacy that had been in Sir Patrick's time was now recollected,
and nothing would serve Sir Condy but he must be three times
a week at the least with his new friends, which grieved me, who
knew, by the captain's groom and gentleman, how they talked
of him at Mount Juliet's Town, making him quite, as one may
say, a laughing-stock and a butt for the whole company; but
they were soon cured of that by an accident that surprised 'em
not a little, as it did me. There was a bit of a scrawl found
upon the waiting-maid of old Mr. Moneygawl's youngest
daughter, Miss Isabella, that laid open the whole; and her
father, they say, was like one out of his right mind, and swore
it was the last thing he ever should have thought of, when he
invited my master to his house, that his daughter should think
of such a match. But their talk signified not a straw, for as
Miss Isabella's maid reported, her young mistress was fallen
over head and ears in love with Sir Condy from the first time
that ever her brother brought him into the house to dinner. The
servant who waited that day behind my master's chair was the
first who knew it, as he says; though it's hard to believe him,
for he did not tell it till a great while afterwards; but, however,
it's likely enough, as the thing turned out, that he was not far
out of the way, for towards the middle of dinner, as he says,
they were talking of stage-plays, having a playhouse, and being
great play-actors at Mount Juliet's Town; and Miss Isabella
turns short to my master, and says:
¿
AUT
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Have you seen the play-bill, Sir Condy?
No, I have not," said he.
"Then more shame for you," said the captain her brother,
"not to know that my sister is to play Juliet to-night, who
plays it better than any woman on or off the stage in all
Ireland."
32
<<
"
"I am very happy to hear it," said Sir Condy; and there the
matter dropped for the present.
But Sir Condy all this time, and a great while afterwards,
was at a terrible nonplus; for he had no liking, not he, to
stage-plays, nor to Miss Isabella either to his mind, as it
came out over a bowl of whisky-punch at home, his little
Judy M'Quirk, who was daughter to a sister's son of mine,
was worth twenty of Miss Isabella. He had seen her often
when he stopped at her father's cabin to drink whisky out of
the egg-shell, out hunting, before he came to the estate, and, as
she gave out, was under something like a promise of marriage to
her. Anyhow, I could not but pity my poor master, who was
so bothered between them, and he an easy-hearted man, that
could not disoblige nobody-God bless him! To be sure, it was
not his place to behave ungenerous to Miss Isabella, who had
disobliged all her relations for his sake, as he remarked; and
then she was locked up in her chamber, and forbid to think of
him any more, which raised his spirit, because his family was,
as he observed, as good as theirs at any rate, and the Rackrents
a suitable match for the Moneygawls any day in the year; all
which was true enough. But it grieved me to see that, upon the
strength of all this, Sir Condy was growing more in the mind to
carry off Miss Isabella to Scotland, in spite of her relations, as
she desired.
(
It's all over with our poor Judy!" said I, with a heavy sigh,
making bold to speak to him one night when he was a little
cheerful, and standing in the servants' hall all alone with me, as
was often his custom.
"Not at all," said he; "I never was fonder of Judy than at
this present speaking; and to prove it to you," said he—and he
took from my hand a halfpenny change that I had just got along
with my tobacco-"and to prove it to you, Thady," says he, "it's
a toss-up with me which I should marry this minute, her or Mr.
Moneygawl of Mount Juliet's Town's daughter-so it is."
"Oh-boo! boo!" says I, making light of it, to see what he
would go on to next; "your honour's joking, to be sure; there's
no compare between our poor Judy and Miss Isabella, who has
a great fortune, they say.'
"I'm not a man to mind a fortune, nor never was," said Sir
""
¹ Boo! boo !—an exclamation equivalent to pshaw or nonsense.
1
1
CASTLE RACKRENT.
33
CC
Condy, proudly, "whatever her friends may say; and to make
short of it," says he, I'm come to a determination upon the
spot." With that he swore such a terrible oath as made me
cross myself. And by this book," said he, snatching up my
ballad-book, mistaking it for my prayer-book, which lay in the
window; "and by this book," says he, "and by all the books that
ever were shut and opened, it's come to a toss-up with me, and
I'll stand or fall by the toss; and so Thady, hand me over that
pin¹ out of the ink-horn;" and he makes a cross on the smooth
side of the halfpenny; "Judy M'Quirk," says he, "her mark. ""
God bless him! his hand was a little unsteadied by all the
whisky punch he had taken, but it was plain to see his heart
was for poor Judy. My heart was all as one as in my mouth
when I saw the halfpenny up in the air, but I said nothing at
all; and when it came down I was glad I had kept myself to
myself, for to be sure now it was all over with poor Judy.
(C
Judy's out a luck," said I, striving to laugh.
I'm out a luck," said he; and I never snw a man look so
cast down: he took up the halfpenny off the flag, and walked
away quite sober-like by the shock. Now, though as easy a man,
you would think, as any in the wide world, there was no such
thing as making him unsay one of these sort of vows, which he
had learned to reverence when young, as I well remember
teaching him to toss up for bog-berries on my knee. So I saw
the affair was as good as settled between him and Miss Isabella,
and I had no more to say but to wish her joy, which I did the
week afterwards, upon her return from Scotland with my poor
master.
My new lady was young, as might be supposed of a lady that
1 Pin, read pen. It formerly was vulgarly pronounced pin in Ireland.
2 Her mark. It was the custom in Ireland for those who could not write
to make a cross to stand for their signature, as was formerly the practice of
our English monarchs. The Editor inserts the fac-simile of an Irish mark,
which may hereafter be valuable to a judicious antiquary-
Her
Judy X M'Quirk,
Mark.
a witness is requisite, as the
In bonds or notes signed in this manner
name is frequently written by him or her.
3 lows. It has been maliciously and unjustly hinted that the lower
classes of the people of Ireland pay but little regard to oaths; yet it is cer-
tain that some oaths or vows have great power over their minds. Some-
times they swear they will be revenged on some of their neighbours; this
is an oath that they are never known to break. But, what is infinitely
more extraordinary and unaccountable, they sometimes make and keep a
vow against whisky; these vows are usually limited to a short time.
woman who has a drunken husband is most fortunate if she can prevail
upon him to go to the priest, and make a vow against whisky for a year, or
a month, or a week, or a day.
A
M
B
34
STORIES OF IRELAND.
had been carried off by her own consent to Scotland; but I
could only see her at first through her veil, which, from bashful-
ness or fashion, she kept over her face.
"And am I to walk through all this crowd of people, my
dearest love?" said she to Sir Condy, meaning us servants and
tenants, who had gathered at the back gate.
t
My dear," said Sir Condy, "there's nothing for it but to
walk, or to let me carry you as far as the house, for you see the
back road is too narrow for a carriage, and the great piers have
tumbled down across the front approach; so there's no driving
the right way, by reason of the ruins."
"C
Plato, thou reasonest well!" said she, or words to that
effect, which I could noways understand; and again, when her
foot stumbled against a broken bit of a car-wheel, she cried out,
CC
Angels and ministers of grace defend us!" Well, thought I,
to be sure, if she's no Jewish, like the last, she is a mad woman
for certain, which is as bad: it would have been as well for my
poor master to have taken up with poor Judy, who is in her
right mind anyhow.
She was dressed like a mad woman, moreover, more than like
any one I ever saw afore or since, and I could not take my eyes
off her, but still followed behind her; and her feathers on the
top of her hat were broke going in at the low back door, and she
pulled out her little bottle out of her pocket to smell when she
found herself in the kitchen, and said, "I shall faint with the
heat of this odious, odious place."
"My dear, it's only three steps across the kitchen, and there's
a fine air if your veil was up," said Sir Condy; and with that
threw back her veil, so that I had then a full sight of her face.
She had not at all the colour of one going to faint, but a fine
complexion of her own, as 1 then took it to be, though her maid
told me after it was all put on; but even, complexion and all
taken in, she was no way, in point of good looks, to compare to
poor Judy, and withal she had a quality toss with her; but
maybe it was my over-partiality to Judy, into whose place I
may say she stepped, that made me notice all this.
To do her justice, however, she was, when we came to know
her better, very liberal in her housekeeping-nothing at all of the
skinflint in her; she left everything to the housekeeper, and her
own maid, Mrs. Jane, who went with her to Scotland, gave her
the best of characters for generosity. She seldom or ever wore
a thing twice the same way, Mrs. Jane told us, and was always
pulling her things to pieces and giving them away, never being
used, in her father's house, to think of expense in anything; and
she reckoned to be sure to go on the same way at Castle Rack-
rent; but when I came to inquire, I learned that her father was
so mad with her for running off, after his locking her up and
1
CASTLE RACKRENT.
35
forbidding her to think any more of Sir Condy, that he would
not give her a farthing; and it was lucky for her she had a few
thousands of her own, which had been left to her by a good
grandmother, and these were very convenient to begin with.
My master and my lady set out in great style; they had the
finest coach and chariot, and horses and liveries, and cut the
greatest dash in the county, returning their wedding visits; and
it was immediately reported that her father had undertaken to
pay all my master's debts, and of course all his tradesmen gave
him a new credit, and everything went on smack smooth, and I
could not but admire my lady's spirit, and was proud to see
Castle Rackrent again in all its glory. My lady had a fine taste
for building, and furniture, and playhouses, and she turned
everything topsy-turvy, and made the barrack-room into a
theatre, as she called it, and she went on as if she had a mint of
money at her elbow; and to be sure I thought she knew best,
especially as Sir Condy said nothing to it one way or the other.
All he asked, God bless him! was to live in peace and quietness,
and have his bottle or his whisky punch at night to himself.
Now this was little enough, to be sure, for any gentleman; but
my lady couldn't abide the smell of the whisky punch.
(C
My dear," says he, "you liked it well enough before we were
married, and why not now ?
""
،،
My dear," said she, "I never smelt it, or I assure you I
should never have prevailed upon myself to marry you."
"C
My dear, I am sorry you did not smell it, but we can't help
that now," returned my master, without putting himself in a
passion, or going out of his way, but just fair and easy helped
himself to another glass, and drank it off to her good health.
All this the butler told me, who was going backwards and
forwards unnoticed with the jug, and hot water, and sugar, and
all he thought wanting. Upon my master's swallowing the last
glass of whisky punch my lady burst into tears, calling him an
ungrateful, base, barbarous wretch; and went off into a fit of
hysterics, as I think Mrs. Jane called it, and my poor master
was greatly frightened, this being the first thing of the kind he
had seen; and he fell straight on his knees before her, and, like a
good-hearted cratur as he was, ordered the whisky punch out
of the room, and bid 'em throw open all the windows, and cursed
himself: and then my lady came to herself again, and when she
saw him kneeling there, bid him get up, and not forswear
himself any more, for that she was sure he did not love her, and
never had. This we learned from Mrs. Jane, who was the only
person left present at all this.
C
My dear," returns my master, thinking, to be sure, of Judy,
as well he might, "whoever told you so is an incendiary, and
B2
!
1
36
STORIES OF IRELAND.
I'll have 'em turned out of the house this minute, if you'll only
let me know which of them it was."
"Told me what ?" said my lady, starting upright in her
chair.
"Nothing at all, nothing at all," said my master, seeing he
had overshot himself, and that my lady spoke at random; "but
what you said just now, that I did not love you, Bella; who
told you that?
"}
66
My own sense," she said, aud she put her handkerchief to
her face, and leant back upon Mrs. Jane, and fell to sobbing as
if her heart would break.
(6
Why now, Bella, this is very strange of you." said my poor
master; "if nobody has told you nothing, what is it you are
taking on for at this rate, and exposing yourself and me for this
way?
>>
66
Oh, say no more, say no more; every word you say kills
me," cried my lady; and she ran on like one, as Mrs. Jane says,
raving, "Oh, Sir Condy, Sir Condy! I that had hoped to find
in you
""
66
Why now, faith, this is a little too much; do, Bella, try to
recollect yourself, my dear; am not I your husband, and of
your own choosing, and is not that enough ?"
66
'Oh, too much! too much!" cried my lady, wringing her
hands.
CC
Why, my dear, come to your
heaven. See, is not the whisky
gone out of the room long ago?
you have to complain of ?'
right senses, for the love of
punch, jug and bowl and all,
What is it, in the wide world,
But still my lady sobbed and sobbed, and called herself the
most wretched of womeu; and among other out-of-the-way
provoking things, asked my master, was he fit company for her,
and he drinking all night? This nettling him, which it was
hard to do, he replied, that as to drinking all night, he was then
as sober as she was herself, and that it was no matter how much
a man drank, provided it did no ways affect or stagger him :
that as to being fit company for her, he thought himself of a
family to be fit company for any lord or lady in the land; but
that he never prevented her from seeing and keeping what
company she pleased, and that he had done his best to make
Castle Rackrent pleasing to her since her marriage, having
always had the house full of visitors, and if her own relations
were not amongst them, he said that was their own fault, and
their pride's fault, of which he was sorry to find her ladyship
had so unbecoming a share. So concluding, he took his candle
and walked off to his room, and my lady was in her tantarums
for three days after; and would have been so much longer, no
doubt, but some of her friends, young ladies, and cousins, and
}
}
J
CASTLE RACKRENT.
second cousins, came to Castle Rackrent, by my poor master's
express invitation, to see her, and she was in a hurry to get up,
as Mrs. Jane called it, a play for them, and so got well, and was
as finely dressed, and as happy to look at, as ever; and all the
young ladies, who used to be in her room dressing of her, said
in Mrs. Jane's hearing that my lady was the happiest bride
ever they had seen, and that to be sure a love-match was the
only thing for happiness, where the parties could any way
afford it.
37
As to affording it, God knows it was little they knew of the
matter; my lady's few thousands could not last for ever,
especially the way she went on with them; and letters from
tradesfolk came every post thick and threefold, with bills as long
as my arm, of years' and years' standing. My son Jason had
'em all handed over to him, and the pressing letters were all
unread by Sir Condy, who hated trouble, and could never be
brought to hear talk of business, but still put it off and put it off,
saying, "Settle it anyhow," or, "Bid 'em call again to-morrow,"
or," Speak to me about it some other time." Now it was hard to
find the right time to speak, for in the mornings he was a-bed,
and in the evenings over his bottle, where no gentleman chooses
to be disturbed. Things in a twelvemonth or so came to such a
pass there was no making a shift to go on any longer, though we
were all of us well enough used to live from hand to mouth at
Castle Rackrent. One day, I remember, when there was a
power of company, all sitting after dinner in the dusk, not to say
dark, in the drawing-room, my lady having rung five times for
candles, and none to go up, the housekeeper sent up the foot-
man, who went to my mistress, and whispered behind her chair
how it was.
CC
'My lady," says he, "there are no candles in the house."
"Bless me," says she; "then take a horse and gallop off as
fast as you can to Carrick O'Fungus, and get some.
"And in the meantime tell them to step into the playhouse,
and try if there are not some bits left," added Sir Condy, who
happened to be within hearing. The man was sent up again to
my lady, to let her know there was no horse to go, but one that
wanted a shoe.
33
"Go to Sir Condy then; I know nothing at all about the
horses," said my lady; "why do you plague me with these
things? How it was settled I really forget, but to the best
of my remembrance the boy was sent down to my son Jason's
to borrow candles for the night. Another time, in the winter,
and on a desperate cold day, there was no turf in for the parlour
and above stairs, and scarce enough for the cook in the kitchen.
The little gossoon was sent off to the neighbours, to see and
1
1 Gossoon: a little boy-from the French word garçon. In most Irish
;
38
STORIES OF IRELAND.
beg or borrow some, but none could he bring back with him for
love or money; so, as needs must, we were forced to trouble Sir
Condy-" Well, and if there's no turf to be had in the town or
country, why, what signifies talking any more about it; can't ye
go and cut down a tree?
35
1
(C
"send
"Which tree, please your honour ?" I made bold to say.
Any tree at all that's good to burn," said Sir Condy;
off smart and get one down, and the fires lighted, before my
lady gets up to breakfast, or the house will be too hot to hold
us.
در
He was always very considerate in all things about my lady,
and she wanted for nothing whilst he had it to give. Well, when
things were tight with them about this time, my son Jason put
in a word again about the Lodge, and made a genteel offer to lay
down the purchase-money, to relieve Sir Condy's distresses.
Now Sir Condy had it from the best authority that there were
two writs come down to the sheriff against his person, and the
sheriff, as il-lluck would have it, was no friend of his, and talked
how he must do his duty, and how he would do it, if it was
against the first man in the country, or even his own brother,
let alone one who had voted against him at the last election, as
Sir Condy had done. So Sir Condy was fain to take the
purchase-money of the Lodge from my son Jason to settle
matters; and sure enough it was a good bargain for both parties,
for my son bought the fee-simple of a good house for him and
his heirs for ever, for little or nothing, and by selling of it for
that same my master saved himself from a gaol. Every way it
turned out fortunate for Sir Condy, for before the money was
all goue there came a general election, and he being so well
beloved in the county, and one of the oldest families, no one
had a better right to stand candidate for the vacancy; and he
was called upon by all his friends, and the whole county I may
say, to declare himself against the old member, who had little
thought of a contest. My master did not relish the thoughts of
a troublesome canvass, and all the ill-will he might bring upon
himself by disturbing the peace of the county, besides the ex-
pense, which was no trifle; but all his friends called upon one
another to subscribe, and they formed themselves into a com-
mittee, and wrote all his circular letters for him, and engaged all
his agents, and did all the business unknown to him; and he
was well pleased that it should be so at last, and my lady her-
self was very sanguine about the election; and there was open
families there used to be a barefooted gossoon, who was slave to the cook
and the butler, and who, in fact, without wages, did all the hard work of the
house. Gossoons were always employed as messengers. The Editor has
known a gossoon to go on foot, without shoes or stockings, fifty-one English
miles between sunrise and sunset.
CASTLE RACKRENT.
39
house kept night and day at Castle Rackrent, and I thought I
never saw my lady look so well in her life as she did at that
time. There were grand dinners, and all the gentlemen drinking
success to Sir Condy till they were carried off; and then dances
and balls, and the ladies all finishing with a raking pot of tea
in the morning. Indeed it was well the company made it their
choice to sit up all nights, for there were not half beds enough
for the sights of people that were in it, though there were shake-
downs in the drawing-room always made up before sunrise
for those that liked it. For my part, when I saw the doings
that were going on, and the loads of claret that went down the
throats of them that had no right to be asking for it, and the
sights of meat that went up to table and never came down.
besides what was carried off to one or t'other below stair, I
couldn't but pity my poor master, who was to pay for all; but
I said nothing, for fear of gaining myself ill-will. The day of
election will come some time or other, says I to myself, and all
will be over; and so it did, and a glorious day it was as any I
ever had the happiness to see.
"Huzza! huzza! Sir Condy Rackrent for ever!" was the
first thing I hears in the morning, and the same and nothing
else all day, and not a soul sober only just when polling, enough
to give their votes as became 'em, and to stand the browbeating
of the lawyers, who came tight enough upon us; and many of
our freeholders were knocked off, having never a freehold that
they could safely swear to, and Sir Condy was not willing to
have any man perjure himself for his sake, as was done on the
other side, God knows; but no matter for that. Some of our
friends were dumbfounded by the lawyers asking them: Had
they ever been upon the ground where their freeholds lay?
Now, Sir Condy being tender of the consciences of them that
had not been on the ground, and so could not swear to a free-
hold when cross-examined by them lawyers, sent out for a
couple of cleavesful of the sods of his farm of Gulteeshinnagh ;'
and as soon as the sods came into town, he set each man upou
his sod, and so then, ever after, you know, they could fairly
swear they had been upon the ground. We gained the day by
2
1
At St. Patrick's meeting, London, March 1806, the Duke of Sussex
said he had the honour of bearing an Irish title, and, with the permission
of the company, he should tell them an anecdote of what he had experienced
on his travels. When he was at Rome he went to visit an Irish seminary,
and when they heard who it was, and that he had an Irish title, some of
them asked him, "Please your Royal Highness, since you are an Irish peer,
will you tell us if you ever trod upon Irish ground?" When he told them
he had not, "Oh, then, said one of the Order, "you shall soon do so.”
They then spread some carth which had been brought from Ireland on a
marble slab, and made him stand upon it.
2 This was actually done at an election in Ireland.
5
3
40
STORIES OF IRELAND.
this piece of honesty. I though I should have died in the
streets for joy when I seed my poor master chaired, and he
bareheaded, and it raining as hard as it could pour; but all the
crowds following him up and down, and he bowing and shaking
hands with the whole town.
"Is that Sir Condy Rackrent in the chair ?" says a stranger
man in the crowd.
60
The same," says I. "Who else should it be? God bless him!"
"And I take it, then, you belong to him ?" says he.
66
"Not at all," says I;
but I live under him, and have done
so these two hundred years and upwards, me and mine."
"It's lucky for you, then," rejoins he, "that he is where he
is; for was he anywhere else but in the chair, this minute he'd
be in a worse place; for I was sent down on purpose to put him
up,¹ and here's my order for so doing in my pocket."
It was a writ that villain the wine merchant had marked
against my poor master for some hundreds of an old debt, which
it was a shame to be talking of at such a time as this.
66
Put it in your pocket again, and think no more of it any-
ways for seven years to come, my honest friend," says I; "he's
a member of Parliament now, praised be God, and such as you
can't touch him and if you'll take a fool's advice, I'd have you
keep out of the way this day, or you'll run a good chance of
getting your deserts amongst my master's friends, unless you
choose to drink his health like everybody else."
:
"I've no objection to that in life," said he. So we went into
one of the public-houses kept open for my master; and we had
a great deal of talk about this thing and that. "And how is
it," says he, "your master keeps on so well upon his legs? I
heard say he was off Holantide twelvemonth past."
•
Never was better or heartier in his life," said I.
"It's not that I'm after speaking of," said he; "but there was
a great report of his being ruined."
66
No matter," says I; "the sheriffs two years running were
his particular friends, and the sub-sheriffs were both of them
gentlemen, and were properly spoken to; and so the writs lay
snug with them, and they, as I understand by my son Jason
the custom in them cases is, returned the writs as they came to
them to those that sent 'em-much good may it do them!- with
a word in Latin, that no such person as Sir Condy Rackrent,
Bart., was to be found in those parts."
"C
-
Oh, I understand all those ways better-no offence-than
you," says he, laughing, and at the same time filling his glass
to my master's good health, which convinced me he was a warm
friend in his heart after all, though appearances were a little
! To put him up: to put him in gaol.
2
;
1
CASTLE RACKRENT.
4İ
suspicious or so at first. To be sure," says he, still cutting
his joke,
"when a man's over head and shoulders in debt, he
may live the faster for it, and the better if he goes the right way
about it; or else how is it so many live on so well, as we see
every day after they are ruined?'
""
"how
(6
How is it," says I, being a little merry at the time;
is it but just as you see the ducks in the chicken-yard, just after
their heads are cut off by the cook, running round and round
faster than when alive?'
At which conceit he fell a-laughing, and remarked he had
never had the happiness yet to see the chicken-yard at Castle
Rackrent.
"It won't be long so, I hope, "says I; "you'll be kindly
welcome there, as everybody is made by my master: there is not
a freer-spoken gentleman or a better beloved, high or low, in all
Ireland."
And of what passed after this I'm not sensible, for we drank
Sir Condy's good health and the downfall of his enemies till we
could stand no longer ourselves. And little did I think at the
time, or till long after, how I was harbouring my poor master's
greatest of enemies myself. This fellow had the impudence,
after coming to see the chicken-yard, to get me to introduce him
to my son Jason; little more than the man that never was
born did I guess at his meaning by this_visit: he gets him a
correct list fairly drawn out from my son Jason of all my master's
debts, and goes straight round to the creditors and buys them
all up, which he did easy enough, seeing the balf of them never
expected to see their money out of Sir Condy's hands. Then,
when this base-minded limb of the law, as I afterwards detected
him in being, grew to be sole creditor over all, he takes him out
a custodiam on all the denominations and sub-denominations,
and even carton and half-carton upon the estate; and not con-
tent with that, must have an execution against the master's
goods and down to the furniture, though little worth, of Castle
Rackrent itself. But this is a part of my story I'm not come to
yet, and it's bad to be forestalling: ill news flies fast enough all
the world over.
To go back to the day of the election, which I never think of
but with pleasure and tears of gratitude for those good times,
after the election was quite and clean over, there comes shoals
of people from all parts, claiming to have obliged my master
with their votes, and putting him in mind of promises which he
could never remember himself to have made: one was to have a
freehold for each of his four sons; another was to have a renewal
of a lease; another an abatement; one came to be paid ten
guineas for a pair of silver buckles sold my master on the hust-
ings, which turned out to be no better than copper gilt; another
ļ
等
​FORD
1
STORIES OF IRELAND.
had a long bill for oats, the half of which never went into the
granary to my certain knowledge, and the other half was not
fit for the cattle to touch; but the bargain was made the week
before the election, and the coach and saddle-horses were got
into order for the day, besides a vote fairly got by them oats; so
no more reasoning on that head. But then there was no end to
them that were telling Sir Condy he had engaged to make their
sons excisemen, or high constables, or the like; and as for them
that had bills to give in for liquor, and beds, and straw, and
ribands, and horses, and post-chaises for the gentlemen free-
holders that came from all parts and other counties to vote for
my master, and were not, to be sure, to be at any charges, there
was no standing against all these; and, worse than all, the
gentlemen of my master's committee, who managed all for him,
and talked how they'd bring him in without costing him a
penny, and subscribed by hundreds very genteelly, forgot to pay
their subscriptions, and had laid out in agents' and lawyers' fees
and secret service money to the Lord knows how much; and my
master could never ask one of them for their subscription you
are sensible, nor for the price of a fine horse he had sold one of
them; so it all was left at his door. He could never, God bless
him again! I say, bring himself to ask a gentleman for money,
despising such sort of conversation himself; but others, who
were not gentlemen born, behaved very uncivil in pressing him
at this very time, and all he could do to content 'em all
was to take himself out of the way as fast as possible to
Dublin, where my lady had taken a house fitting for him as
a member of Parliament, to attend his duty in there all the
winter. I was very lonely when the whole family was gone,
and all the things they had ordered to go, and forgot, sent
after them by the car. There was then a great silence in
Castle Rackrent, and I went moping from room to room,
hearing the doors clap for want of right locks, and the wind
through the broken windows, that the glazier never would come
to mend, and the rain coming through the roof and best ceilings
all over the house for want of the slater, whose bill was not
paid, besides our having no slates or shingles for that part of
the old building which was shingled and burnt when the chimney
took fire, and had been open to the weather ever since. I took
myself to the servants' hall in the evening to smoke my pipe as
usual, but missed the bit of talk we used to have there sadly,
and ever after was content to stay in the kitchen and boil my
little potatoes,¹ and put up my bed there, and every post-day
42
1
¹ My little potatoes.-Thady does not mean by this expression that his
potatoes were less than other people's, or less than the usual size. Little is
here used only as an Italian diminutive, expressive of foudness.
1
.
}
CASTLE RACKRENT.
43
I looked in the newspaper, but no news of my master in the
House; he never spoke good or bad, but, as the butler wrote
down word to my son Jason, was very ill-used by the Govern-
ment about a place that was promised him and never given,
after his supporting them against his conscience very honour-
ably, and being greatly abused for it, which hurt him greatly,
he having the name of a great patriot in the country before.
The house and living in Dublin too were not to be had for
nothing, and my son Jason said, Sir Condy must soon be
looking out for a new agent, for I've done my part and can do
no more. If my lady had the bank of Ireland to spend, it
would go all in one winter, and Sir Condy would never gainsay
her, though he does not care the rind of a lemon for her all the
while."
Now I could not bear to hear Jason giving out after this
manner against the family, and twenty people standing by in
the street. Ever since he had lived at the lodge of his own he
looked down, howsomever, upon poor old Thady, and was
grown quite a great gentleman, and had none of his relations
near him; no wonder he was no kinder to poor Sir Condy than
to his own kith or kin.¹ In the spring it was the villain that
got the list of the debts from him brought down the custodiam,
Sir Condy still attending his duty in Parliament; and I could
scarcely believe my own old eyes, or the spectacles with which
I read it, when I was shown my son Jason's name joined in the
custodiam, but he told me it was only for form's sake, and to
make things easier than if all the land was under the power of
a total stranger. Well, I did not know what to think; it was
hard to be talking ill of my own, and I could not but grieve for
my poor master's fine estate, all torn by these vultures of the
law; so I said nothing, but just 100ked on to see how it would
all end.
It was not till the month of June that he and my lady came
down to the country. My master was pleased to take me aside
with him to the brewhouse that same evening, to complain to
me of my son and other matters, in which he said he was
confident I had neither art nor part; he said a great deal more
to me, to whom he had been fond to talk ever since he was my
white-headed boy before he came to the estate; and all that he
said about poor Judy I can never forget, but scorn to repeat.
He did not say an unkind word of my lady, but wondered, as
well he might, her relations would do nothing for him or her,
and they in all this great distress. He did not take anything
long to heart, let it be as it would, and had no more malice or
1
Kith and kin : family or relations. Kin from kind; kith from wo know
not what,
JEA
STORIES OF IRELAND.
thought of the like in him than a child that can't speak; this
night it was all out of his head before he went to his bed. He
took his jug of whisky punch--my lady was grown quite easy
about the whisky punch by this time, and so I did suppose all
was going on right betwixt them, till I learnt the truth through
Mrs. Jane, who talked over the affairs to the housekeeper, and
I within hearing. The night my master came home, thinking of
nothing at all but just making merry, he drank his bumper
toast "to the deserts of that old curmudgeon my father-in-
law, and all enemies at Mount Juliet's Town." Now my lady
was no longer in the mind she formerly was, and did noways
relish hearing her own friends abused in her presence, she
said.
44
"Then why don't they show themselves your friends," said
my master," and oblige me with the loan of the money I
condescended by your advice, my dear, to ask? It's now three
posts since I sent off my letter, desiring in the postscript a
speedy answer by the return of the post, and no account at all
from them yet.'
,"
"I expect they'll write to me next post," says my lady, and
that was all that passed then; but it was easy from this to
guess there was a coolness betwixt them, and with good cause.
The next morning, being post-day, I sent off the gossoon
early to the post-office, to see was there any letter likely to set
matters to rights, and he brought back one with the proper
post-mark upon it, sure enough, and I had no time to examine
or make any conjecture more about it, for into the servants'
hall pops Mrs. Jane with a blue bandbox in her hand, quite
entirely mad.
"Dear ma'am, and what's the matter?
says I.
"Matter enough," says she; "don't you see my bandbox is
wet through, and my best bonnet here spoiled, besides my lady's,
and all by the raiu coming in through that gallery window that
you might have got mended if you'd had any sense, Thady, all
the time we were in town in the winter ?
>>
CC
""
Sure, I could not get the glazier, ma'am," says I.
"You might have stopped it up anyhow," says she.
So I did, ma'am, to the best of my ability; one of the panes
with the old pillow-case, and the other with a piece of the old
stage green curtain. Sure I was as careful as possible all the
time you were away, and not a drop of rain came in at that
window of all the windows in the house, all winter, ma'am, when
under my care; and now the family's come home, and it's
summer-time, I never thought no more about it, to be sure; but
dear, it's a pity to think of your bonnet, ma'am. But here's
what will please you, ma'am. -a letter from Mount Juliet's Town
for my lady."
1
CASTLE RACKRENT.
45
With that she snatches it from me without a word more, and
runs up the back stairs to my mistress; I follows with a slate to
make up the window. This window was in the long passage, or
gallery, as my lady gave out orders to have it called, in the
gallery leading to my master's bed-chamber and hers. And when
I went up with the slate, the door having no lock, and the bolt
spoilt, was ajar after Mrs. Jaue, and, as I was busy with the
window, I heard all that was saying within.
"Well, what's in your letter, Bella, my dear?" says he:
"you're a long time spelling it over.
66
Won't you shave this morning, Sir Condy ?" says she, and
put the letter into her pocket.
6C
I shaved the day before yesterday,” said he, “my dear, and
that's not what I'm thinking of now; but anything to oblige
you, and to have peace and quietness, my dear"-and presently
I had a glimpse of him at the cracked glass over the chimney-
piece, standing up shaving himself to please my lady. But she
took no notice, but went on reading her book, and Mrs. Jane
doing her hair behind.
C
What is it you're reading there, my dear?-phoo, I've cut
myself with this razor; the man's a cheat that sold it me, but I
have not paid him for it yet. What is it you're reading there?
Did you hear me asking you, my dear?
""
The Sorrows of Werter,"" replies my lady, as well as I could
hear.
"I think more of the sorrows of Sir Condy," says my master,
joking like. "What news from Mount Juliet's Town?"
"C
No news," says she, "but the old story over again; my
friends all reproaching me still for what I can't help now.”
"Is it for marrying me?" said my master, still shaving.
"What signifies, as you say, talking of that, when it can't be
help'd now?'
""
With that she heaved a great sigh that I heard plajn enough
in the passage.
"And did not you use me basely, Sir Condy," says she, "not
to tell me you were ruined before I married you?
"Tell you, my dear!" said he. "Did you ever ask me one word
about it? And had not your friends enough of your own, that
were telling you nothing else from morning to night, if you'd
have listened to them slanders ?"
"No slanders, nor are my friends slanderers; and I can't bear
to hear them treated with disrespect as I do," says my lady, and
took out her pocket-handkerchief; "they are the best of friends,
and if I had taken their advice But my father was wrong
to lock me up, I own. That was the only unkind thing I can
charge him with; for if he had not locked me up, I should never
have had a serious thought of running away as I did."
·
1
▸
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Well, my dear," said my master, "don't cry and make
yourself uneasy about it now, when it's all over, and you have
the man of your own choice, in spite of 'em all."
46
"I was too young, I know, to make a choice at the time you
ran away with me, I'm sure," says my lady, and another sigh,
which made my master, half-shaved as he was, turn round upon
her in surprise.
،،
Why, Bell," says he, "you can't deny what you know as
well as I do, that it was at your own particular desire, and that
twice under your own hand and seal expressed, that I should
carry you off as I did to Scotland, and marry you there."
(C
Well, say no more about it, Sir Condy," said my lady,
pettish-like; "I was a child then, you know."
And as far as I know, you're little better now, my dear Bella,
to be talking in this manner to your husband's face; but I won't
take it ill of you, for I know it's something in that letter you
put into your pocket just now that has set you against me all
on a sudden, and imposed upon your understanding."
"It's not so very easy as you think it, Sir Condy, to impose
upon my understanding," said my lady.
"My dear," says he, "I have, and with reason, the best
opinion of your understanding of any man now breathing; and
you know I have never set my own in competition with it till
now, my dear Bella," says he, taking her hand from her book as
kind as could be-" till now, when I have the great advantage
of being quite cool, and you not; so don't believe one word your
friends say against your own Sir Condy, and lend me the letter
out of your pocket, till I see what it is they can have to say."
"Take it then," says she; and as you are quite cool, I hope
it is a proper time to request you'll allow me to comply with the
wishes of all my own friends, and return to live with my father
and family, during the remainder of my wretched existence, at
Mount Juliet's Town."
CC
At this my poor master fell back a few paces, like one that
had been shot.
You're not serious, Bella," says he; "and could you find it
in your heart to leave me this way in the very middle of my
distresses, all alone ?" But recollecting himself after his first
surprise, and a moment's time for reflection, he said, with a
great deal of consideration for my lady, "Well, Bella, my dear,
I believe you are right; for what could you do at Castle Rack-
rent, and an execution against the goods coming down, and the
furniture to be canted, and an auction in the house all next
week? So you have my full consent to go, since that is your
desire; only you must not think of my accompanying you, which
I could not in honour do upon the terms I always have been,
since our marriage, with your friends. Besides, I have business
រ
!
CASTLE RACKRENT.
47
to transact at home; so in the meantime, if we are to have any
breakfast this morning, let us go down and have it for the last
time in peace and comfort, Bella."
Then as I heard my master coming to the passage door, I
finished fastening up my slate against the broken pane; and
when he came out I wiped down the window-seat with my
wig,¹ and bade him a "good-morrow as kindly as I could, seeing
he was in trouble, though he strove and thought to hide it from
""
me.
"This window is all racked and tattered," says I, "and it's
what I'm striving to mend."
It is all racked and tattered, plain enough," says he, "and
never mind mending it, honest old Thady," says he; "it will
do well enough for you and I, and that's all the company we
shall have left in the house by-and-bye."
"I'm sorry to see your honour so low this morning," says I;
"but you'll be better after taking your breakfast."
،،
Step down to the servants' hall," said he, " and bring me
up the pen and ink into the parlour, and get a sheet of paper
from Mrs. Jane, for I have business that can't brook to be
delayed; and come into the parlour with the pen and ink your-
self, Thady, for I must have you to witness my signing a paper
I have to execute in a hurry.'
>"
Well, while I was getting of the pen and ink-horn, and the
sheet of paper, I ransacked my brains to think what could be
the papers my poor master could have to execute in such a
hurry, he that never thought of such a thing as doing business
afore breakfast in the whole course of his life, for any man
living; but this was for my lady, as I afterwards found, and
the more genteel of him after all her treatment.
I was just witnessing the paper that he had scrawled over,
and was shaking the ink out of my pen upon the carpet, when
my lady came in to breakfast, and she started as if it had been
a ghost; as well she might, when she saw Sir Condy writing at
this unseasonable hour.
That will do very well, Thady," says he to me, and took the
paper I had signed to, without knowing what upon the earth it
'Wigs were formerly used instead of brooms in Ireland for sweeping or
dusting tables, stairs, &c. The Editor doubted the fact till he saw a
labourer of the old school sweep down a flight of stairs with his wig; he
afterwards put it on his head again with the utmost composure, and said,
"Oh, please your honour, it's never a bit the worse.'
1
""
It must be acknowledged that these men are not in any danger of catch-
ing cold by taking off their wigs occasionally, because they usually have
fine crops of hair growing under their wigs. The wigs are often yellow,
and the hair which appears from beneath them black; the wigs are usually
too small, and are raised up by the hair beneath, or by the ears of the
wearers.
I
!
48
STORIES OF IRELAND.
might be, out of my hands, and walked, folding it up, to my
lady.'
""
"You are concerned in this, my Lady Rackrent," said he,
putting it into her hands; "and I beg you'll keep this memo-
randum safe, and show it to your friends the first thing you do
when you get home; but put it in your pocket now, my dear,
and let us eat our breakfast, in God's name."
C
What is all this ?" said my lady, opening the paper in
great curiosity.
"It's only a bit of a memorandum of what I think becomes
me to do whenever I am able," says my master; "you know
my situation, tied hand and foot at the present time being, but
that can't last always, and when I'm dead and gone the land
will be to the good, Thady, you know; and take notice it's my
intention your lady should have a clear five hundred a year
jointure off the estate afore any of my debts are paid."
CC
Oh, please your honour," says I, "I can't expect to live to
see that time, being now upwards of fourscore years of age, and
you a young man, and likely to continue so by the help of
God."
I was vexed to see my lady so insensible too, for all she said
was, This is very genteel of you, Sir Condy. You need not
wait any longer, Thady." So I just picked up the pen and ink
that had tumbled on the floor, and heard my master finish with
saying, "You behaved very genteel to me, my dear, when you
threw all the little you had in your power along with yourself
into my hands; and as I don't deny but what you may have
had some things to complain of" to be sure he was thinking
then of Judy, or of the whisky punch, one or t'other, or both,
"and as I don't deny but you may have had something
to complain of, my dear, it is but fair you should have some-
thing in the form of compensation to look forward to agreeably
in future; besides, it's an act of justice to myself, that none of
your friends, my dear, may ever have it to say against me, I
married for money, and not for love."
"That is the last thing I should ever have thought of
saying of you, Sir Condy," said my lady, looking very gracious.
Then, my dear," said Sir Condy, "we shall part as good
friends as we met; so all's right."
66
،
I was greatly rejoiced to hear this, and went out of the parlour
to report it all to the kitchen. The next morning my lady and
Mrs. Jane set out for Mount Juliet's Town in the jaunting-car.
Many wondered at my lady's choosing to go away, considering
all things, upon the jaunting.car, as if it was only a party of
pleasure; but they aid not know till I told them that the coach
was all broke in the journey down, and no other vehicle but the
car to be had. Besides, my lady's friends were to send their
:
CASTLE RACKRENT.
49
coach to meet her at the cross-roads; so it was all done very
proper.
CC
My poor master was in great trouble after my lady left us.
The execution came down, and everything at Castle Rackrent
was seized by the gripers, and my son Jason, to his shame be it
spoken, amongst them. I wondered, for the life of me, how he
could harden himself to do it; but then he had been studying the
law, and had made himself Attorney Quirk; so he brought down
at once a heap of accounts upon my master's head. To cash lent,
and to ditto, and to ditto, and to ditto and oats, and bills paid at
the milliner's and linen-draper's, and many dresses for the fancy
balls in Dublin for my lady, and all the bills to the workmen
and tradesmen for the scenery of the theatre, and the chandler's
and grocer's bills, and tailor's, besides butcher's and baker's,
and, worse than all, the old one of that base wine merchant's,
that wanted to arrest my poor master for the amount on the
election day, for which amount Sir Condy afterwards passed
his note of hand, bearing lawful interest from the date thereof;
and the interest and compound interest was now mounted to a
terrible deal on many other notes and bonds for money borrowed,
and there was, besides, hush-money to the sub-sheriffs, and
sheets upon sheets of old and new attorney's bills, with heavy
balances, as per former account furnished," brought forward
with interest thereon; then there was a powerful deal due to
the Crown for sixteen years' arrear of quit-rent of the town-
lands of Carrickshaughlin, with driver's fees, and a compliment
to the receiver every year for letting the quit-rent run on to
oblige Sir Condy, and Sir Kit afore him. Then there were bills
for spirits and ribands at the election time, and the gentlemen of
the committee's accounts unsettled, and their subscription never
gathered; and there were cows to be paid for, with the smith
and farrier's bills to be set against the rent of the demesne,
with calf and hay money; then there was all the servants'
wages, since I don't know when, coming due to them, and sums
advanced for them by my son Jason for clothes, and boots, and
whips, and odd moneys for sundries expended by them in
journeys to town and elsewhere, and pocket-money for the
master continually, and messengers and postage before his
being a Parliament man. I can't myself tell you what besides ;
but this I know, that when the evening came on the which Sir
Condy had appointed to settle all with my son Jason, and when
he comes into the parlour, and sees the sight of bills and load
of papers all gathered on the great dining-table for him, he puts
his hands before both his eyes, and cried out, "Merciful Jasus!
what is it I see before me ?" Then I sets an arm-chair at the
table for him, and with a deal of difficulty he sits him down,
and my son Jason hands him over the pen and ink to sign to
"
*
50
STORIES OF IRELAND.
this man's bill and t'other man's bill, all which he did without
making the least objections. Indeed, to give him his due, I
never seen a man more fair and honest, and easy in all his
dealings, from first to last, as Sir Condy, or more willing to pay
every man his own as far as he was able, which is as much as
any one can do.
!
"Well," says he, joking like with Jason, "I wish we could
settle it all with a stroke of my grey goose-quill. What signifies
making me wade through all this ocean of papers here; can't
you now, who understand drawing out an account, debtor and
creditor, just sit down here at the corner of the table and get it
done out for me, that I may have a clear view of the balance,
which is all I need be talking about, you know ?"
CC
Very true, Sir Condy; nobody understands business better
than yourself," says Jason.
"So I've a right to do, being born and bred to the bar," says
Sir Condy. "Thady, do step out and see are they bringing in
the things for the punch, for we've just done all we have to do
for this evening."
I goes out accordingly, and when I came back Jason was
pointing to the balance, which was a terrible sight to my poor
master.
66
Pooh! pooh! pooh !" says he. "Here's so many noughts they
dazzle my eyes, so they do, and put me in mind of all I suffered
larning of my numeration table when I was a boy at the day-
school along with you, Jason-units, tens, hundreds, tens of
hundreds. Is the punch ready, Thady?" says he, seeing me.
"Immediately; the boy has the jug in his hand; it's coming
upstairs, please your honour, as fast as possible," says I, for Ï
saw his honour was tired out of his life; but Jason, very short
and cruel, cuts me off with-"Don't be talking of punch yet
awhile; it's no time for punch yet a bit-units, tens, hundreds,"
goes he on, counting over the master's shoulder, units, tens,
hundreds, thousands.
"A-a-ah! hold your hand," cries my master. "Where in this
wide world am I to find hundreds, or units itself, let alone
thousands ? "
"The balance has been running on too long," says Jason,
sticking to him as I could not have done at the time if you'd
have given both the Indies and Cork to boot; "the balance has
been running on too long, and I'm distressed myself on your
account, Sir Condy, for money, and the thing must be settled
now on the spot, and the balance cleared off," says Jason.
"I'll thank you if you'll only show me how," says Sir Condy.
"There's but one way," says Jason, "and that's ready enough.
When there's no cash, what can a gentleman do but go to the
land?"
}
</
*******$=Fa
CASTLE RACKRENT.
51
"How can you go to the land, and it under custodiam to
yourself already ?" says Sir Condy; "and another custodiam
hanging over it? And no one at all can touch it, you know, but
the custodees."
"Sure, can't you sell, though at a loss? Sure you can sell,
and I've a purchaser ready for you," says Jason.
Have you so?" says Sir Condy. “That's a great point
gained. But there's a thing now beyond all, that perhaps you
don't know yet, barring Thady has let you into the secret."
"Sarrah bit of a secret, or anything at all of the kind, has he
learned from me these fifteen weeks come St. John's Eve," says
I," for we have scarce been upon speaking terms of late. But
what is it your honour means of a secret ?
55
"Why, the secret of the little keepsake I gave my Lady
Rackrent the morning she left us, that she might not go back
empty-handed to her friends."
"C
My Lady Rackrent, I'm sure, has baubles and keepsakes
enough, as those bills on the table will show," says Jason;
"but whatever it is," says he, taking up his pen,
(C we must add
it to the balance, for to be sure it can't be paid for.”
"No, nor can't till after my decease," says Sir Condy; "that's
one good thing." Then colouring up a good deal, he tells Jason
of the memorandum of the five hundred a-year jointure he had
settled upon my lady; at which Jason was indeed mad, and
said a great deal in very high words, that it was using a gentle-
man who had the management of his affairs, and was, moreover,
his principal creditor, extremely ill to do such a thing without
consulting him, and against his knowledge and consent. To
all which Sir Condy had nothing to reply, but that, upon his
conscience, it was in a hurry and without a moment's thought
on his part, and he was very sorry for it, but if it was to do
over again he would do the same; and he appealed to me, and
I was ready to give my evidence, if that would do, to the truth
of all he said.
So Jason with much ado was brought to agree to a com-
promise.
"The purchaser that I have ready," says he, "will be much
displeased, to be sure, at the incumbrance on the land, but I
must see and manage him. Here's a deed ready drawn up; we
have nothing to do but to put in the consideration money and
our names to it."
"And how much am I going to sell ?-the lands of O'Shaugh-
lin's Town, and the lands of Gruneaghoolaghan, and the lands
of Crookagnawaturgh," says he, just reading to himself.
"And
-oh, murder, Jason! sure you won't put this in-the castle,
stable, and appurtenances of Castle Rackrent?
·
$
f
i
}
¿
f
7
*
1
1
"
C
{
:
52
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Oh, murder! says I, clapping my hands; "this is too bad,
Jason."
"Why so?" said Jason. "When it's all, and a great deal more
to the back of it, lawfully mine, was I to push for it."
"Look at him," says I, pointing to Sir Condy, who was just
leaning back in his arm-chair, with his arms falling beside him
like one stupefied: "is it you, Jason, that can stand in his
presence, and recollect all he has been to us, and all we have been
to him, and yet use him so at the last?
>>
CC
CC
""
穿
​Who will you find to use him better, I ask you?" said Jason;
"if he can get a better purchaser, I'm content; I only offer to
purchase, to make things easy, and oblige him; though I don't
see what compliment I am under, if you come to that. I have
never had, asked, or charged more than sixpence in the pound,
receiver's fees, and where would he have got an agent for a penny
less ?"
CC
'Oh, Jason! Jason! how will you stand to this in the face of
the county, and all who know you?" says I; "and what will
people think and say when they see you living here in Castle
Rackrent, and the lawful owner turned out of the seat of his
ancestors, without a cabin to put his head into, or so much as
a potato to eat?
Jason, whilst I was saying this and a great deal more, made
me signs, and winks, and frowns; but I took no heed, for I was
grieved and sick at heart for my poor master, and couldn't but
speak.
32
'Here's the punch," says Jason, for the door opened; "here's
the punch!"
Hearing that, my master starts up in his chair, and recollects
himself, and Jason uncorks the whisky.
“Set down the jug here," says he, making room for it beside
the papers opposite to Sir Condy, but still not stirring the deed
that was to make over all.
Well, I was in great hopes he had some touch of mercy about
him when I saw him making the punch, and my master took a
glass; but Jason put it back as he was going to fill again, saying:
<<
No, Sir Condy, it sha'n't be said of me I got your signature
to this deed when your were half seas over: you know your
name and handwriting in that condition would not, if brought
before the courts, benefit me a straw; wherefore, let us settle all
before we go deeper into the punch-bowl."
(6
Settle all as you will," said Sir Condy, clapping his hands to
his ears; but let me hear no more, I'm bothered to death this
night."
<<
You've only to sign," said Jason, putting the pen to him.
"Take all, and be content," said my master. So he signed;
and the man who brought in the punch witnessed it, for I was
4
CASTLE RACKRENT.
53
not able, but crying like a child; and besides, Jason said, which
I was glad of, that I was no fit witness, being so old and doting.
It was so bad with me, I could not taste a drop of the punchi
itself, though my master himself, God bless him in the midst
of his trouble, poured out a glass for me, and brought it up to
my lips.
"Not a drop; I thank your honour's honour as much as if I
took it, though." And I just set down the glass as it was, an
went out, and when I got to the street door the neighbours'
childer, who were playing at marbles there, seeing me in great
trouble, left their play, and gathered about me to know what
ailed me; and I told them all, for it was a great relief to me to
speak to these poor childer, that seemed to have some natural
feeling left in them; and when they were made sensible that
Sir Condy was going to leave Castle Rackrent for good
and all, they set up a whillalu that could be heard to
the farthest end of the street; and one-fiue boy he was-
that my master had given an apple to that morning, cried
the loudest; but they all were the same sorry, for Sir
Condy was greatly beloved amongst the childer, for letting
them go a-nutting in the demesne, without saying a word to
them, though my lady objected to them. The people in the
town, who were the most of them standing at their doors, hear-
ing the childer cry, would know the reason of it; and when the
report was made known, the people one and all gathered in
great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the notion of
his coming to be landlord over them, and they cried, "No Jason!
no Jason! Sir Condy! Sir Condy! Sir Condy Rackrent for
ever!" And the mob grew so great and so loud, I was frightened,
and made my way back to the house to warn my son to
make his escape or hide himself for fear of the consequences.
Jason would not believe me till they came all round the
house, and to the windows, with great shouts. Then he grew
quite pale, and asked Sir Condy, what had he best do?
"I'll tell you what you had best do," said Sir Condy, who
was laughing to see his fright; "finish your glass first, then
let's go to the window and show ourselves, and I'll tell 'em-or
you shall if you please-that I'm going to the Lodge for change
of air for my health, and by my own desire, for the rest of my
days."
"Do so," said Jason, who never meant it should have been
so, but could not refuse him the Lodge at this unseasonable
time. Accordingly, Sir Condy threw up the sash and explained
matters, and thanked all his friends, and bid them look in at
the punch-bowl, and observe that Jason and he had been sitting
over it very good friends; so the mob was content, and he
sent them out some whisky to drink his health, and that was
54
STORIES OF IRELAND.
the last time his honour's health was ever drunk at Castle
Rackrent.
The very next day, being too proud, as he said to me, to stay
au hour longer in a house that did not belong to him, he sets
off to the Lodge, and I along with him not many hours after.
And there was great bemoaning through all O'Shauglin's
Town, which I stayed to witness, and gave my poor master a full
account of when I got to the Lodge. He was very low, and in
his bed, when I got there, and complained of a great pain about
his heart; but I guessed it was only trouble and all the business,
let alone vexation, he had gone through of late, and knowing
the nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and whilst
smoking it by the chimney began telling him how he was
beloved and regretted in the county, and it did him a deal of
good to hear it.
(C
Your honour has a great many friends yet that you don't
know of, rich and poor, in the county," says I; "for as I was
coming along the road I met two gentlemen in their own
carriages, who asked after you, knowing me, and wanted to know
where you was and all about you, and even how old I was.
Think of that."
Then he wakened out of his dose, and began questioning me
who the gentlemen were. And the next morning it came into
my head to go, unknown to anybody, with my master's compli-
ments, round to many of the gentlemen's houses where he and
my lady used to visit, and people that I knew were his great
friends, and would go to Cork to serve him any day in the year,
and I made bold to try to borrow a trifle of cash from them.
They all treated me very civil for the most part, and asked a
great many questions very kind about my lady and Sir Condy
and all the family, and were greatly surprised to learn from me
Castle Rackrent was sold, and my master at the Lodge for
health; and they all pitied him greatly, and he had their good
wishes, if that would do; but money was a thing they unfor-
tunately had not any of them at this time to spare. I had my
journey for my pains, and I, not used to walking, nor supple as
formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satisfaction of telling
my master when I got to the Lodge all the civil things said by
high and low.
(t
Thady," says he, "all you've been telling me brings a
strange thought into my head. I've a notion I shall not be long
for this world anyhow, and I've a great fancy to see my own
funeral afore I die." I was greatly shocked, at the first
speaking, to hear him speak so light about his funeral, and
he to all appearance in good health; but recollecting myself,
answered:
"To be sure it would be as fine a sight as one could see, I
CASTLE RACKRENT.
55
dared to say, and one I should be proud to witness, and I did
not doubt his honour's would be as great a funeral as ever Sir
Patrick O'Shaughlin's was, and such a one as that had never
been known in the county afore or since." But I never thought
he was in earnest about seeing his own funeral himself till the
next day he returns to it again.
""
(C
Thady," says he, as far as the wake¹ goes, sure I might
without any great trouble have the satisfaction of seeing a bit
of my own funeral.”
66
Well, since your honour's honour's so bent upon it," says I,
not willing to cross him, and he in trouble, we must see what
we can do.'
CC
""
So he fell into a sort of sham disorder, which was easy done,
as he kept his bed, and no one to see him; and I got my shister,
who was an old woman very handy about the sick, and very
skilful, to come up to the Lodge to nurse him; and we gave
out, she knowing no better, that he was just at his latter end,
and it answered beyond anything; and there was a great
throng of people, men, women, and childer, and there being
only two rooms at the Lodge, except what was locked up full
of Jason's furniture and things, the house was soon as full and
fuller than it could hold, and the heat, and smoke, and noise
wonderful great; and standing amongst them that were near
the bed, but not thinking at all of the dead, I was startled by
the sound of my master's voice from under the greatcoats that
had been thrown all at top, and I went close up, no one
noticing.
"Thady," says he, "I've had enough of this; I'm smothering,
and can't bear a word of all they're saying of the deceased.”
"C
"God bless you, and lie still and quiet," says I, a bit longer,
for my shister's afraid of ghosts, and would die on the spot with
fright was she to see you come to life all on a sudden this way
without the least preparation."
So he lays him still, though well nigh stifled, and I made all
haste to tell the secret of the joke, whispering to one and t'other,
and there was a great surprise, but not so great as we had laid
out it would. "And aren't we to have the pipes and tobacco,
after coming so far to-night?" said some; but they were all
well enough pleased when his honour got up to drink with them,
and sent for more spirits from a shebeen-house," where they
very civilly let him have it upon credit. So the night passed off
very merrily, but to my mind Sir Condy was rather upon the
'A "wake" in England is a meeting avowedly for merriment; in Ireland
it is a nocturnal meeting avowedly for the purpose of watching and be-
wailing the dead, but in reality for gossiping and debauchery.
2 "Shebeen-house," a hedge alehouse. Shebeen properly means weak,
small-beer, taplash.
}
56
STORIES OF IRELAND.
sad order in the midst of it all, not finding there had been such
a great talk about himself after his death as he had always
expected to hear.
The next morning, when the house was cleared of them, and
none but my shister and myself left in the kitchen with Sir
Condy, one opens the door and walks in, and who should it be
but Judy M'Quirk herself! I forgot to notice that she had
been married long since, whilst young Captain Moneygawl lived
at the Lodge, to the captain's huntsman, who after a whilst
listed and left her, and was killed in the wars. Poor Judy fell
off greatly in her good looks after her being married a year or
two; and being smoke-dried in the cabin, and neglecting herself
like, it was hard for Sir Condy himself to know her again till
she spoke; but when she says, "It's Judy M'Quirk, please your
honour; don't you remember her?
>>
*C
'Oh, Judy, is it you?" says his honour. "Yes, sure, I
remember you very well; but you're greatly altered, Judy."
66
Sure it's time for me," says she "And I think your
honour, since I seen you last-but that's a great while ago-
is altered too."
"And with reason, Judy," says Sir Condy, fetching a sort
of a sigh. "But how's this, Judy ?" he goes on. "I take it a
little amiss of you that you were not at my wake last night.
>>
66
Ah, don't be being jealous of that," says she; "I didn't
hear a sentence of your honour's wake till it was all over, or it
would have gone hard with me but I would have been at it,
sure; but I was forced to go ten miles up the country three
days ago to a wedding of a relation of my own's, and didn't get
home till after the wake was over. But," says she, "it won't be
so, I hope, the next time,¹ please your honour."
"That we shall see, Judy," says his honour, "and maybe
sooner than you think for, for I've been very unwell this while
past, and don't reckon anyway I'm long for this world."
At this Judy takes up the corner of her apron, and puts it
first to one eye and then to t'other, being to all appearance iu
great trouble; and my shister put in her word, and bid his
honour have a good heart, for she was sure it was only the gout
that Sir Patrick used to have flying about him, and he ought
to drink a glass or a bottle extraordinary to keep it out of his
stomach; and he promised to take her advice, and sent out for
more spirits immediately; and Judy made a sign to ine, and I
went over to the door to her, and she said, "I wonder to sec
Sir Condy so low: has he heard the news ?"
At the coronation of one of our monarchs the King complained of the
confusion which happened in the procession. The great officer who pre-
sided told his Majesty that "it should not be so uext time."
CASTLE RACKRENT.
57
"What news?
says I.
"Didn't ye hear it, then?
says she; my Lady Rackrent
that was is kilt and lying for dead, and I don't doubt but it's
all over with her by this time."
66
"3
Mercy on us all," says I; "how was it ?
""
دو
((
"The jaunting-car it was that rau away with her," says
Judy. "I was coming home that same time from Biddy
M'Guggin's marriage, and a great crowd of people too upon
the road coming from the fair of Crookaghnawaturgh, and I
sees a jaunting-car standing in the middle of the road, and with
the two wheels off and all tattered. What's this?' says I.
Didn't ye hear of it?' says they that were looking on; 'it's
my Lady Rackrent's car, that was running away from her
husband, and the horse took fright at a carrion that lay across
the road, and so ran away with the jaunting-car, and my Lady
Rackrent and her maid screaming, and the horse ran with them
against a car that was coming from the fair with the boy asleep
où it, and the lady's petticoat hanging out of the jaunting-car
caught, and she was dragged I can't tell you how far upon the
road, and it all broken up with the stones just going to be
pounded, and one of the road-makers, with his sledge-hammer
in his hand, stops the horse at the last, but my Lady Rackrent
was all kilt¹ and smashed, and they lifted her into a cabin hard
by, and the maid was found after where she had been thrown in
the gripe of a ditch, her cap and bonnet all full of bog water,
and they say my lady can't live anyway.' Thady, pray now is
it true what I'm told for sartain, that Sir Condy has made over
all to your son Jason?
>>
..
All," says I.
"All entirely ?" says she again.
“All entirely,” says I.
tr
Then," says she, "that's a great shame; but don't be telling
Jason what I say."
"And what is it you say?" cries Sir Condy, leaning over
betwixt us, which made Judy start greatly. "I know the time
when Judy M'Quirk would never have stayed so long talking
at the door and I in the house."
"Oh!" says Judy, "for shame, Sir Condy; times are altered
since then, and it's my Lady Rackrent you ought to be thinking
of."
1 "Kilt and smashed." Our author is not here guilty of an anti-climax.
The mere English reader, from a similarity of sound between the words
"kilt" and "killed," might be induced to suppose that their meanings are
similar, yet they are not by any means in Ireland synonymous terms.
Thus you may hear a man exclaim, "I'm kilt and murdered!" but he fre-
quently means only that he has received a black eye or a slight contusion.
I'm kilt all over means that he is in a worse state than being simply
"kilt." Thus, "I'm kilt with the cold," is nothing to "I'm kilt all over
with the rheumatism."
>>
13%
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"And why should I be thinking of her, that's not thinking of
me now?" says Sir Condy.
"No matter for that," says Judy, very properly; "it's time
you should be thinking of her, if ever you mean to do it at all,
for don't you know she's lying for death?"
"My Lady Rackrent!" says Sir Condy, in a surprise; "why
it's but two days since we parted, as you very well know,
Thady, in her full health and spirits, and she, and her maid
along with her, going to Mount Juliet's Town on her jaunting-
""
car.
58
"She'll never ride no more on her jaunting-car," said Judy.
"for it has been the death of her sure enough."
"And is she dead then ?" says his honour.
"As good as dead, I hear," say Judy; "but there's Thady
here as just learnt the whole truth of the story as I had it, and
it's fitter he or anybody else should be telling it you than I,
Sir Condy: I must be going home to the childer.”
But he stops her, but rather from civility in him, as I could
see very plainly, than anything else, for Judy was, as his honour
remarked at her first coming in, greatly changed, and little
likely, as far as I could see-though she did not seem to be
clear of it herself-little likely to be my Lady Rackrent now,
should there be a second toss-up to be made. But I told him
the whole story out of the face, just as Judy had told it to me,
and he sent off a messenger with his compliments to Mount
Juliet's Town that evening, to learn the truth of the report,
and Judy bid the boy that was going call in at Tim M'Enerney's
shop in O'Shaughlin's Town and buy her a new shawl.
"Do so," said Sir Condy, " and tell Tim to take no money
from you, for I must pay him for the shawl myself." At this
my shister throws me over a look, and I says nothing, but
turned the tobacco in my mouth, whilst Judy began making
a many words about it, and saying how she could not be
beholden for shawls to any gentleman. I left her there to
consult with my shister, did she think there was anything in
it, and my shister thought I was blind to be asking her the
question, and I thought my shister must see more into it than
I did, and recollecting all past times and everything, I changed
my mind, and came over to her way of thinking, and we settled
it that Judy was very like to be my Lady Rackrent after all,
if a vacancy should have happened.
The next day, before his honour was up, somebody comes with
a double knock at the door, and I was greatly surprised to see
it was my son Jason.
"Jason, is it you?" said I; "what brings you to the Lodge?"
says I. "Is it my Lady Rackrent? We know that already since
yesterday."
Į
CASTLE RACKRENT.
59
Maybe so," says he; "but I must see Sir Condy about it."
"You can't see him yet," says I; "sure he is not awake."
What then," says he, "can't he be wakened, and I standing
at the door."
"C
(C
"I'll not be disturbing his honour for you, Jason," says I;
many's the hour you've waited in your time, and been proud
to do it, till his honour was at leisure to speak to you. His
honour," says I, raising my voice, at which his honour wakens
of his own accord, and calls to me from the room to know who
it was I was speaking to. Jason made no more ceremony, but
follows me into the room.
C
""
"How are you, Sir Condy? says he; "I'm happy to see
you looking so well; I came up to know how you did to-day,
and to see did you want for anything at the Lodge."
CC
"Nothing at all, Mr. Jason, I thank you," says he; for his
honour had his own share of pride, and did not choose, after all
that had passed, to be beholden, I suppose, to my son;
"but
pray take a chair and be seated, Mr. Jason."
Jason sat him down upon the chest, for chair there was none,
and after he had set there some time, and a silence on all sides,
"What news is there stirring in the country, Mr. Jason
M'Quirk ?" says Sir Condy, very easy, yet high like.
None that's news to you, Sir Condy, I hear," says Jason.
"I am sorry to hear of my Lady Rackrent's accident.
""
"I'm much obliged to you, and so is her ladyship, I'm sure,"
answered Sir Condy, still stiff; and there was another sort of a
silence, which seemed to lie the heaviest on my son Jason.
"Sir Condy," says he at last, seeing Sir Condy disposing
himself to go to sleep again," Sir Condy, I dare say you recollect
mentioning to me the little memorandum you gave to Lady
Rackrent about the £500 a year jointure."
66
Very true," said Sir Condy; "it is all in
"it is all in my recollection."
"But if my Lady Rackrent dies, there's an end of all jointure,”
says Jason.
"Of course," says Sir Condy.
"But it's not a matter of certainty that my Lady Rackrent
won't recover," says Jason.
CC
Very true, sir," says my master.
CC
'It's a fair speculation, then, for you to consider what the
chance of the jointure of those lands, when out of custodiam, will
be to you.
>>
CC
Just five hundred a year, I take it, without any speculation
at all," said Sir Condy.
"That's supposing the life dropt, and the custodiam off, you
know; begging your pardon, Sir Condy, who understands
business, that is a wrong calculation."
"Very likely so," said Sir Condy; "but, Mr. Jason, if you
1
?
4
{
60
STORIES OF IRELAND,
have anything to say to me this morning about it, I'd be obliged
to you to say it, for I had an indifferent night's rest last night,
and wouldn't be sorry to sleep a little this morning."
"I have only three words to say, and those more of consequence
to you, Sir Condy, than me. You are a little cool, I observe;
but I hope you will not be offended at what I have brought here
in my pocket," and he pulls out two long rolls, and showers
down golden guineas upon the bed.
66
What's this?" said Sir Condy; "it's long since "--but his
pride stops him.
"All these are your lawful property this minute, Sir Condy,
if you please," said Jason.
66
Not for nothing, I'm sure," said Sir Condy, and laughs
a little.
Nothing for nothing, or I'm under a mistake with you,
<C
Jason."
CC
Oh, Sir Condy, we'll not be indulging ourselves in any un-
pleasant retrospects," says Jason; "it's my present intention
to behave, as I'm sure you will, like a gentleman in this affair.
Here's two hundred guineas, and a third I mean to add if you
should think proper to make over to me all your right and title
to those lands that you know of.”
I'll consider of it," said my master; and a great deal more,
that I was tired listening to, was said by Jason, and all that,
and the sight of the ready cash upon the bed, worked with his
honour; and the short and the long of it was, Sir Condy
gathered up the golden guineas, and tied them up in a hand-
kerchief, and signed some paper Jason brought with him as
usual, and there was an end of the business: Jason took himself
away, and my master turned himself round and fell asleep
again.
I soon found what had put Jason in such a hurry to conclude
this business. The little gossoon we had sent off the day before
with my master's compliments to Mount Juliet's Town, and to
know how my lady did after her accident, was stopped early
this morning, coming back with his answer through O'Shaugh-
lin's Town, at Castle Rackrent, by my son Jason, and questioned
of all he knew of my lady from the servant at Mount Juliet's
Town; and the gossoon told him my Lady Rackrent was not
expected to live over night; so Jason thought it high time to be
moving to the Lodge, to make his bargain with my master about
the jointure afore it should be too late, and afore the little
gossoon should reach us with the news. My master was greatly
vexed—that is, I may say, as much as ever I seen him-when he
found how he had been taken in; but it was some comfort to
have the ready cash for immediate consumption in the house,
anyway.
And when Judy came up that evening, and brought the
childer to see his honour, he unties the handkerchief, and—God
1
1
لم
CASTLE RACKRENT.
61
bless him! whether it was little or much he had, 'twas all the
same with him—he gives 'em all round guineas apiece.
(C
Hold up your head," says my shister to Judy, as Sir Condy
was busy filling out a glass of punch for her eldest boy-" Hold
up your head, Judy; for who knows but we may live to see you
yet at the head of the Castle Rackrent estate ?
""
66
Maybe so," says she, "but not the way you are thinking
of."
I did not rightly understand which way Judy was looking
when she made this speech till a while after.
CC
'Why, Thady, you were telling me yesterday that Sir Condy
had sold all entirely to Jason, and where then does all them
guineas in the handkerchief come from ?"
6
They are the purchase-money of my lady's jointure,"
says I.
Judy looks a little bit puzzled at this. "A penny for your
thoughts, Judy," says my shister; "hark, sure Sir Condy is
drinking her health.
""
He was at the table in the room,¹ drinking with the exciseman
and the gauger, who came up to see his honour, and we were
standing over the fire in the kitchen.
"I don't much care is he drinking my health or not," says
Judy; "and it is not Sir Condy I'm thinking of, with all your
jokes, whatever he is of me."
CC
'Sure you wouldn't refuse to be my Lady Rackrent, Judy, if
you had the offer ?" says I.
"But if I could do better!" says she.
"How better?" says I and
"How better ? "
says she.
Lady Rackrent and no castle ?
no horse to draw it?"
And where will ye get the horse, Judy?" says I.
"Never mind that," says she;
،،
Jason might find that."
66
"
my shister both at once.
CC
Why, what signifies it to be my
Sure what good is the car, and
maybe it is your own son
Jason! says I;
"don't be trusting to him, Judy. Sir
Condy, as I have good reason to know, spoke well of you when
Jason spoke very indifferently of you, Judy."
"No matter," says Judy; "it's often men speak the contrary
just to what they think of us."
<<
for
"And you the same way of them, no doubt," answered I.
Nay, don't be denying it, Judy, for I think the better of ye
it, and shouldn't be proud to call ye the daughter of a shister's
son of mine, if I was to hear ye talk ungrateful, and anyway
disrespectful of his honour.
""
What disrespect," says she, "to say I'd rather, if it was my
luck, be the wife of another man ? "
1 "The room :" the principal room in the house.
مر
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"You'll have no luck, mind my words, Judy," says I; and all
I remembered about my poor master's goodness in tossing up
for her afore he married at all came across me, and I had a
choking in my throat that hindered me to say more.
"Better luck, anyhow, Thady," says she, "than to he like
some folk, following the fortunes of them that have none left."
Oh! King of Glory!" says I," hear the pride and ungrati-
tude of her, and he giving his last guineas but a minute ago to
her childer, and she with the fine shawl on her he made her a
present of but yesterday!"
،،
62
Oh, troth, Judy, you're wrong now," says my shister,
looking at the shawl.
"And was not he wrong yesterday, then," says she, "to be
telling me I was greatly altered, to affront me?"
"But, Judy," says I, "what is it brings you here then at all in
the mind you are in; is it to make Jason think the better of you?"
65
I'll tell you no more of my secrets, Thady," says she, "nor
would have told you this much, had I taken you for such an
unnatural fader as I find you are, not to wish your own son
prefarred to another.'
""
C
Oh, troth, you are wrong now, Thady," says my shister.
Well, I was never so put to it in my life: between these
womens, and my son and my master, and all I felt and
thought just now, I could not, upon my conscience, tell
which was the wrong from the right. So I said not a word
mere, but was only glad his honour had not the luck to hear all
Judy had been saying of him, for I reckoned it would have gone
nigh to break his heart; not that I was of opinion he cared for
her as much as she and my shister fancied, but the ungratitude
of the whole from Judy might not plase him; and he could
never stand the notion of not being well spoken of or beloved
like behind his back. Fortunately for all parties concerned, he
was so much elevated at this time, there was no danger of his
understanding anything, even if it had reached his ears. There
was a great horn at the Lodge, ever since my master and Captain
Moneygawl was in together, that used to belong originally to
the celebrated Sir Patrick, his ancestor; and his honour was
fond often of telling the story that he learned from me when
a child, how Sir Patrick drank the full of this horn without
stopping, and this was what no other man afore or since could
without drawing breath. Now Sir Condy challenged the
gauger, who seemed to think little of the horn, to swallow the
contents, and had it filled to the brim with punch; and the
gauger said it was what he could not do for nothing, but he'd
Hold, Sir Condy a hundred guineas he'd do it.
"Done," says my master; "I'll lay you a hundred golden
guineas to a tester I you don't."
1 "Tester," sixpence; from the French word tete, head-a piece of
t
F
J
(6
CASTLE RACKRENT.
63
Done," says the gauger; and done and done's enough between
two gentlemen. The gauger was cast, and my master won the
bet, and thought he'd won a hundred guineas, but by the word-
ing it was adjudged to be only a tester that was his due by the
exciseman. It was all one to him; he was as well pleased, and
I was glad to see him in such spirits again.
The gauger-bad luck to him!-was the man that next pro-
posed to my master to try himself, could he take at a draught
the contents of the great horn.
"Sir Patrick's horn!" said his honour; "hand it to me: I'll
hold you your own bet over again I'll swallow it.”
(6
Done," says the gauger; "I'll lay ye anything at all you do
no such thing."
(6
"A hundred guineas to sixpence I do," says he "bring me
the handkerchief." I was loth, knowing he meant the hand-
kerchief with the gold in it, to bring it out in such company, and
his honour not very able to reckon it. Bring me the hand-
kerchief, then, Thady," says he, and stamps with his foot; so
with that I pulls it out of my greatcoat pocket, where I had put
it for safety. Oh how it grieved me to see the guineas counting
upon the table, and they the last my master had! Says Sir
Condy to me, Your hand is steadier than mine to-night, old
Thady, and that's a wonder; fill you the horn for me." And so,
wishing his honour success, I did; but I filled it, little thinking
of what would befall him. He swallows it down, and drops like
one shot. We lifts him up, and he was speechless, and quite
black in the face. We put him to bed, and in a short time he
wakened, raving with a fever on his brain. He was shocking
either to see or hear.
66
<C
Judy! Judy! have you no touch of feeling? Won't you stay
to help us nurse him?" says I to her, and she putting on her
shawl to go out of the house.
>>
"I'm frightened to see him," says she, "and wouldn't nor
couldn't stay in it: and what use? He can't last till the morning.'
With that she ran off. There was none but my shister and my-
self left near him of all the many friends he had.
The fever came and went, and came and went, and lasted five
days, and the sixth he was sensible for a few minutes, and said
to me, knowing me very well, "I'm in a burning pain all within-
side of me, Thady." I could not speak, but my shister asked
him would he have this thing or t'other to do him good? "No,'
says he, "nothing will do me good no more," and he gave a
terrible screech with the torture he was in; then again a
minute's ease-"brought to this by drink," says he. Where are
all the friends ?— where's Judy ? Gone, hey? Ay, Sir Condy
silver stamped with a head, which in old French was called_un_testion,
and which was about the value of an old English sixpence. "Tester" is
used in Shakspeare.
CC
3)
!
1
64
STORIES OF IRELAND.
has been a fool all his days," said he; and there was the last
word he spoke, and died. He had but a very poor funeral
after all.
If you want to know any more, I'm not very well able to tell
you; but my Lady Rackrent did not die, as was expected of
her, but was only disfigured in the face ever after by the fall and
bruises she got; and she and Jason, immediately after my poor
master's death, set about going to law about that jointure; the
memorandum not being on stamped paper, some say it is worth
nothing, others again it may do; others say Jason won't have
the lands at any rate; many wishes it so. For my part, I'm
tired wishing for anything in this world, after all I've seen in it;
but I'll say nothing-it would be a folly to be getting myself
ill-will in my old age. Jason did not marry, nor think of
marrying Judy, as I prophesied, and I am not sorry for it:
who is ? As for all I have here set down from memory and
hearsay of the family there's nothing but truth in it from
beginning to end. That you may depend upon, for where's the
use of telling lies about the things which everybody knows as
well as I do?
The Editor could have readily made the catastrophe of Sir
Condy's history more dramatic and more pathetic, if he thought
it allowable to varnish the plain round tale of faithful Thady.
He lays it before the English reader as a specimen of manners
and characters which are perhaps unknown in England. Indeed,
the domestic habits of no nation in Europe were less known to
the English than those of their sister country till within these
few years.
Mr. Young's picture of Ireland, in his tour through that
country, was the first faithful portrait of its inhabitants. All
the features in the foregoing sketch were taken from the life,
and they are characteristic of that mixture of quickness, sim-
plicity, cunning, carelessness, dissipation, disinterestedness,
shrewdness, and blunder, which, in different forms and with
various success, has been brought upon the stage or delineated
in novels.
It is a problem of difficult solution to determine whether a
union will hasten or retard the amelioration of this country.
The few gentlemen of education who now reside in this country
will resort to England. They are few, but they are in nothing
inferior to men of the same rank in Great Britain. The best that
can happen will be the introduction of British manufacturers
in their places.
Did the Warwickshire militia, who were chiefly artisans, teach
the Irish to drink beer? or did they learn from the Irish to drink
whisky ?
THE ABSENTEE.
1
66
CHAPTER I.
"ARE you to be at Lady Clonbrony's gala next week?" said
Lady Langdale to Mrs. Dareville whilst they were waiting for
their carriages in the crush-room of the Opera-house.
"Oh yes! Everybody is to be there, I hear," replied Mrs.
Dareville. "Your ladyship, of course ?"
Why, I don't know. Lady Clonbrony makes it such a
point with me, that if I possibly can manage it, I believe I
must look in upon her for a few minutes. They are going to a
prodigious expense on this occasion. Soho tells me the recep-
tion-rooms are all to be newly furnished, and in the most
magnificent style."
THE ABSENTEE.
66
"At what a famous rate those Clonbronies are dashing on!"
said Colonel Heathcock. "Up to anything."
66
Who are they, these Clonbronies, of whom one hears so
much of late?" said her Grace of Torcaster. "Irish absentees,
I know; but how do they support all this enormous expense ?'
The son will have a prodigiously fine estate when some Mr.
Quin dies," said Mrs. Dareville.
66
Yes, everybody who comes from Ireland will have a fine
estate when somebody dies," said her Grace; "but what have
they at present ? "
CC
Twenty thousand a year, it is said," replied Mrs. Dareville.
"Ten thousand, I believe," cried Lady Langdale. Make it
a rule to believe only half the world says."
CC
Ten thousand, have they ?-it is possible," said her Grace.
"I know nothing about them, having no acquaintance among
the Irish. Torcaster knows something of Lady Clonbrony; she
has fastened herself, by some means, upon him; but I charge
him not to commit me. Positively I could not for anybody, and
much less for that sort of person, extend the circle of my
acquaintance."
C2
68
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Now, that is so cruel of your Grace," said Mrs. Dareville,
laughing, "when poor Lady Clonbrony works so hard and pays
so high to get into certain circles."
(C
If you knew all she endures to look, speak, move, breathe
like an Englishwoman, you would pity her," said Lady
Langdale.
Yes, and you cant conceive the pecns she teeks to talk of
the teebles and cheers, and to thank Q., and with so much teeste,
to speak pure English," said Mrs. Dareville.
"Pure cockney, you mean," said Lady Langdale.
"But does Lady Clonbrony expect to pass for English?" said
the Duchess.
CC
;
Oh
yes, because she is not quite English bred and born-only
bred, not born," said Mrs. Dareville "and she could not be
five minutes in your Grace's company without telling you that
she was Henglish, born in Hoafordshire."
“She must be a vastly amusing personage
I should like to
meet her, if one could see and hear her incog.," said the Duchess.
“And Lord Clonbrony, what is he?
(C
Nothing-nobody," said Mrs. Dareville;
hears of him.'
""
"A tribe of daughters too, I suppose?'
"No, no," said Lady Langdale; " daughters would be past.
all endurance."
(C
در
>>
*C
one never even
"There's a cousin, though, a Miss Nugent," said Mrs. Dare-
ville, "that Lady Clonbrony has with her."
((
Best part of her too," said Colonel Heathcock
(6 very
fine girl! never saw her look better than at the opera to-
night.'
"Fine complexion! as Lady Clonbrony says when she means
a high colour," said Lady Langdale.
"Miss Nugent is not a lady's beauty," said Mrs. Dareville.
"Has she any fortune, colonel ? "
"'Pon honour, don't know," said the colonel.
"There's a son somewhere, is there not ?" said Lady
Langdale.
CC
Don't know, 'pon honour," replied the colonel.
Yes, at Cambridge; he is not of age yet," said Mrs. Dare-
ville. "Bless me! here is Lady Clonbrony come back; I
thought she had left half-an-hour ago."
،،
Mamma," whispered one of Lady Langdale's daughters, who
was leaning between her mother and Mrs. Dareville; "who is
that gentleman that passed us just now?"
"Which way ? "
"Towards the door. There, mamma, you can see him now.
He is speaking to Lady Clonbrony to Miss Nugent. Now Lady
Clonbrony is introducing him to Miss Broadhurst."
THE ABSENTEE.
69
66
"I see him now," said Lady Langdale, examining him
through her glass; a very gentleman-like looking young
man indeed."
*
Not an Irishman, I am sure, by his manner," said her
Grace.
“Heathcock!” said Lady Langdale, "who is Miss Broad-
hurst talking to P
15
"Eh! Now really, 'pon honour, don't know," replied Heath-
cock.
(C
And yet he certainly looks like somebody one should know,"
pursued Lady Langdale, " though I don't recollect seeing him
anywhere before."
66
Really now!" was all the satisfaction she could gain from
the insensible, immovable colonel. However, her ladyship,
after sending a whisper along the line, gained the desired infor-
mation, that the young gentleman was Lord Colambre, son, and
only son, of Lord and Lady Clonbrony; that he was just come
from Cambridge; that he was not yet of age; that he would be
of age within a year; that he would then, after the death of
somebody, come into possession of a fine estate by the mother's
side. "And therefore, Cat'rine, my dear," said she, turning
round to the daughter who had first pointed him out, "you
understand, we should never talk about other people's affairs.
*9
CC
"No, mamma, never. I hope to goodness, mamma, Lord
Colambre did not hear what you and Mrs. Dareville were
saying."
"How could he, child? He was quite at the other end of
the world ?"
"I beg your pardon; he was at my elbow, close behind us;
but I never thought about him till I heard somebody say, 'My
lord.'"
(C
Good heavens! I hope he didn't hear."
"But for my part I said nothing," cried Lady Langdale.
"And for my part I said nothing but what everybody
knows!" cried Mrs. Dareville.
(6
And for my part I am guilty only of hearing," said the
Duchess. Do, pray, Colonel Heathcock, have the goodness to
see what my people are about, and what chance we have of
getting away to-night."
"The Duchess of Torcaster's carriage stops the way!" This
was a joyful sound to Colonel Heathcock and to her Grace, and
not less agreeable at this instant to Lady Langdale, who
directly she was disembarrassed of the Duchess pressed through
the crowd to Lady Cloubrony, and addressed her with smiles
and complacency, saying she was "charmed to have a little
moment to speak to her; could not sooner get through the
crowd; would certainly do herself the honour to be at her lady-
G
I
tillo AWE
70
STORIES OF IRELAND.
ship's gala.", While Lady Langdale spoke she never seemed to
see or think of anybody but Lady Clonbrony, though all the
time she was intent upon every motion made by Lord Colambre,
and whilst she was obliged to listen with a face of sympathy to
a long complaint of Lady Clonbrony's about Mr. Soho's want
of taste in ottomans she was vexed to perceive that his lordship
showed no desire to be introduced to her or to her daughters,
but was, on the contrary, standing talking to Miss Nugent.
His mother, at the end of her speech, looked round for Col-
ambre, called him twice before he heard, introduced him to
Lady Langdale, and to Lady Cat'rine, and Lady Anne-
and to Mrs. Dareville, to all of whom he bowed with an air of
proud coldness which gave them reason to regret that their
remarks upon his mother and his family had not been made
sotto voce.
66
Lady Langdale's carriage stops the way! Lord Colambre
made no offer of his services, notwithstanding a look from his
mother. Incapable of the meanness of voluntarily listening
to a conversation not intended for him to hear, he had, however,
been compelled by the pressure of the crowd to remain a few
minutes stationary, where he could not avoid hearing the
remarks of the fashionable friends. Disdaining dissimulation,
he made no attempt to conceal his displeasure. Perhaps his
vexation was increased by his consciousness that there was
some truth in their sarcasms. He was sensible that his mother
in some points-her manners for instance-was obvious to
ridicule and satire. In Lady Clonbrony's address there was a
mixture of constraint, affectation, and indecision, unusual in a
person of her birth, rank, and knowledge of the world. A
natural and unnatural manner seemed struggling in all her
gestures and in every syllable that she articulated. A naturally
free, familiar, good-natured, precipitate Irish manner had been
schooled, and schooled late in life, into a sober, cold, still, stiff
deportment, which she mistook for English. A strong Hiber-
nian accent she had, with infinite difficulty, changed into an
English tone. Mistaking reverse of wrong for right, she cari-
catured the English pronunciation; and the extraordinary pre-
cision of her London phraseology betrayed her not to be a
Londoner, as the man who strove to pass for an Athenian
was detected by his Attic dialect. Not aware of her real
danger, Lady Clonbrony was, on the opposite side, in continual
apprehension, every time she opened her lips, lest some treacher-
ous a or e, some strong r, some puzzling aspirate or nou-
aspirate, some unguarded note, interrogative or expostulatory,
should betray her to be an Irishwoman. Mrs. Dareville had
in her mimicry perhaps a little exaggerated as to the teebles
and cheers, but still the general likeness of the representation
""
THE ABSENTEE.
71
of Lady Clonbrony was strong enough to strike and vex her
son. He had now, for the first time, an opportunity of judging
of the estimation in which his mother and his family were held
by certain leaders of the ton, of whom in her letters she had
spoken so much, and into whose society, or rather into whose
parties she had been admitted. He saw that the renegado
cowardice with which she denied, abjured, and reviled her own
country, gained nothing but ridicule and contempt. He loved
his mother, and whilst he endeavoured to conceal her faults
and foibles as much as possible from his own heart, he could
not endure those who dragged them to light and ridicule. The
next morning the first thing that occurred to Lord Colambre's
remembrance, when he awoke, was the sound of the contemp-
tuous emphasis which had been laid on the words Irish ab-
scntees! This led to recollections of his native country, to
comparisons of past and present scenes, to future plans of life.
Young and careless as he seemed, Lord Colambre was capable
of serious reflection. Of naturally quick and strong capacity,
ardent affections, impetuous temper, the early years of his
childhood were spent at his father's castle in Ireland, where
everybody, from the lowest servant to the well-dressed dependant
of the family, had conspired to wait upon, to fondle, to flatter,
to worship, this darling of their lord. Yet he was not spoiled
nor rendered selfish, for in the midst of this flattery and
servility some strokes of genuine and generous affection had gone
home to his little heart; and though unqualified submission had
increased the natural impetuosity of his temper, and though
visions of his future grandeur had touched his infant thought,
yet fortunately, before he acquired any fixed habits of in-
solence or tyranny, he was carried far away from all that were
bound or willing to submit to his commands—far away from all
signs of hereditary grandeur, plunged into one of our great
public schools, into a new world. Forced to struggle, mind
and body, with his equals, his rivals, the little lord became a
spirited schoolboy, and in time a man. Fortunately for him,
science and literature happened to be the fashion among a set
of clever young men with whom he associated at Cambridge.
His ambition for intellectual superiority developed itself, his
views were enlarged, his tastes and his manners formed. The
sobriety of English good sense mixed most advantageously with
Irish vivacity; English prudence governed but did not ex-
tinguish his Irish enthusiasm. But in fact English and
Irish had not been invidiously contrasted in his mind; he had
been so long resident in England, and so intimately connected
with Englishmen, that he was not obvious to any of the
commonplace ridicule thrown upon Hibernians; and he had
lived with men who were too well-informed and liberal to mis、
72
STORIES OF IRELAND.
judge or depreciate a sister country. He had found from ex-
perience that, however reserved the English may be in manner,
they are warm at heart; that however averse they may be to
forming new acquaintances, their esteem and confidence once
gained, they make the most solid friends. He had formed
friendships in England; he was fully sensible of the superior
comforts, refinement, and information of English society; but
his own country was endeared to him by early association, and
a sense of duty and patriotism attached him to Ireland.
"And
shall I too be an absentee?" was a question which resulted
from these reflections; a question which he was not yet pre-
pared to answer decidedly. In the meantime, the first busi-
ness of the morning was to execute a commission for a Cam-
bridge friend. Mr. Berryl had bought from Mr. Mordicai, a
famous London coachmaker, a curricle, warranted sound, for
which he had paid a sound price, upon express condition that
Mr. Mordicai should be answerable for all repairs of the curricle
for six months. In three, both the carriage and body were
found to be good for nothing, and the curricle had been returned
to Mr. Mordicai, but nothing had since been heard of it or
from him. Lord Colambre had undertaken to pay him and it
a visit, and to make all proper inquiries. Accordingly, he went
to the coachmaker's, and obtaining no satisfaction from the
underlings, desired to see the head of the house. He received
for an answer that Mr. Mordicai was not at home. His lord.
ship had never seen Mr. Mordicai; but just then he noticed a
man walking across the yard who looked something like a Bond
Street coxcomb, but not the least like a gentleman. This person
called, in the tone of a master, for "Mr. Mordicai's barouche."
It appeared, and he was stepping into it, when Lord Colambre
took the liberty of stopping him. Pointing to the wreck of Mr.
Berryl's curricle, now standing in the yard, he began a state-
ment of his friend's grievances, and an appeal to common
justice and conscience, which he, unknowing the nature of the
man with whom he had to deal, imagined must be irresistible.
Mr. Mordicai stood without moving a muscle of his dark wooden
face. Indeed, in his face there appeared to be no muscles, or
none which could move; so that, though he had what are
generally called handsome features, there was altogether some-
thing unnatural and shocking in his countenance. When at
last his eyes turned and his lips opened, this seemed to be done
by machinery, and not by the will of a living creature or from
the impulse of a rational soul. Lord Colambre was so much
struck with this strange physiognomy that he actually forgot
much he had to say of springs and wheels. But it was no
matter. Whatever he might have said, it would have come to
the same thing, and Mordicai would have answered as he now
did.
D
1
THE ABSENTEE.
73
(C
Sir, my partner made that bargain, not myself; and I don't
hold myself bound by it, for he is the sleeping partner only, and
not empowered to act in the way of business. Had Mr. Berryl
bargained with me, I should have told him that he should have
looked to these things before his carriage went out of our yard.”
The indignation of Lord Colambre kindled at these words.
To all that indignation could by word or look urge against Mor-
dicai he replied:
66
Maybe so, sir; the law is open to your friend; the law is
open to all men who can pay for it."
Lord Colambre turned in despair from the callous coachmaker,
and listened to one of his more compassionate-looking workmen,
who was reviewing the disabled curricle. Whilst waiting to
know the sum of his friend's misfortune, a fat, jolly, Falstaff-
looking personage came into the yard, and accosted Mordicai
with a degree of familiarity which from a gentleman appeared
to Lord Colambre rather strange.
re
How are you, Mordicai, my good fellow ?" cried he, speak-
ing with a strong Irish accent.
66
Who is this?" whispered Lord Colambre to the foreman,
who was examining the curricle.
(C
(C
'Sir Terence O'Fay, sir. There must be entire new wheels."
Now, tell me, my tight fellow," continued Sir Terence,
holding Mordicai fast, "when, in the name of all the saints,
good or bad, in the calendar, do you reckon to let us sport the
suicide?"
Mordicai forcibly drew his mouth into what he meant for a
smile, and answered-" As soon as possible, Sir Terence."
Sir Terence, in a tone of jocose, wheedling expostulation,
entreated him to have the carriage finished out of hand. "Ah,
now, Mordy, my precious. let us have it by the birthday; and
come and dine with us o' Monday at the Hibernian Hotel-
there's a rare one-will you?
""
Mordicai accepted the invitation, and promised faithfully that
the suicide should be finished by the birthday. Sir Terence
shook hands upon this promise; and after telling a good story,
which made one of the workmen in the yard, an Irishman, grin
with delight, walked off. Mordicai, waiting till the knight was
out of hearing, called out-
"You grinning rascal! mind, at your peril, and don't let that
carriage be touched, d'ye see, till further orders."
One of Mr. Mordicai's clerks, with a huge long-feathered pen
behind his ear, observed that Mr. Mordicai was right in that
caution, for that, to the best of his comprehension, Sir Terence
O'Fay, and his principal too, were over head and ears in debt.
Mordicai coolly answered that he was well aware of that, but
that the estate could afford to dip farther; that for his part he
"
1.
74
STORIES OF IRELAND.
was under no apprehension; he knew how to look sharp, and to
bite before he was bit. He added that he knew Sir Terence and
his principal were leagued together to give the creditors the
go-by, but that, clever as they both were at that work, he trusted
he was their match.
'Will you be so good, sir, as to finish making out this esti-
mate for me?" interrupted Lord Colambre.
"Immediately, sir. Sixty-nine pound four, and the perch.
Let us see-- Mr. Mordicai, ask him, ask Paddy, about Sir
Terence," said the foreman, pointing over his shoulder to the
Irish workman, who was at this moment pretending to be won-
drous hard at work. However, when Mr. Mordicai defied him
to tell him anything he did not know, Paddy, parting with an
untasted bit of tobacco, began, and recounted some of Sir
Terence O'Fay's exploits in evading duns, replevying cattle,
fighting sheriffs, bribing subs, managing cants, tricking custodees,
in language so strange, and with a countenance and gestures so
full of enjoyment of the jest, that whilst Mordicai stood for
a moment aghast with astonishment, Lord Colambre could not
help laughing partly at and partly with his countryman. All
the yard were in a roar of laughter, though they did not under-
stand half of what they heard; but their risible muscles were
acted upon mechanically or maliciously merely by the sound of
the Irish brogue.
Mordicai, waiting till the laugh was over, dryly observed that
"the law is executed in another sort of way in England from
what it is in Ireland; " therefore for his part he desired nothing
better than to set his wits fairly against such sharks. He
observed that there was a pleasure in doing up a debtor which
none but a creditor could know.
"In a moment sir; if you'll have a moment's patience, sir, if
you please," said the slow foreman to Lord Colambre. "I must
go down the pounds once more, and then I'll let you have it."
"I'll tell you what, Smithfield," continued Mr. Mordicai, coming
close beside his foreman, and speaking very low, but with a voice
trembling with anger, for he was piqued by his foreman's doubts
of his capacity to cope with Sir Terence O'Fay-"I'll tell you
what, Smithfield, I'll be cursed if I don't get every inch of them
into my power. You know how."
"You are the best judge, sir," replied the foreman; "but
I would not undertake Sir Terence; and the question is, whether
the estate will answer the tote of the debts, and whether you
know them all for certain ?"
I do, sir, I tell you. There's Green; there's Blancham;
there's Gray; there's Soho," naming several more; "and to my
knowledge, Lord Clonbrony-
"
Stop, sir," cried Lord Colambre in a voice which made
Mordicai and everybody present start; "I am his son!”
(C
}
14
#
1
THE ABSENTEE.
"The devil!" said Mordicai.
"God bless every bone in his body, then! He's an Irishman,”
cried Paddy; "and there was the rason my heart warmed to
him from the first minute he come into the yard, though I did
not know it till now."
66
75
What, sir, are yon my Lord Colambre ?" said Mr. Mordicai,
recovering-but not clearly recovering-his intellects. "I beg
pardon, but I did not know you was Lord Colambre. I thought
you told me you was the friend of Mr. Berryl.”
"I do not see the incompatibility of the assertion, sir," replied
Lord Colambre, taking from the bewildered foreman's unresist-
ing hand the account which he had been so long "furnishing."
"Give me leave, my lord," said Mordicai. "I beg your
pardon, my lord; perhaps we can compromise that business for
your friend Mr. Berryl; since he is your lordship's friend,
perhaps we can contrive to compromise and split the difference.
To compromise and split the difference Mordicai thought were
favourite phrases, and approved Hibernian modes of doing busi-
ness, which would conciliate this young Irish nobleman, and
dissipate the proud tempest which had gathered and now swelled
in his breast.
"No, sir, no!” cried Lord Colambre, holding firm the paper.
"I want no favour from you: I will accept of none for my friend
or for myself."
"Favour! No, my lord, I should not presume to offer
But I should wish, if you'll allow me, to do your friend justice."
Lord Colambre, recollecting that he had no right in his pride
to fling away his friend's money, let Mr. Mordicai look at the
account; and his impetuous temper in a few moments recovered
by good sense, he considered that, as his person was utterly
unknown to Mr. Mordicai, no offence could have been intended
to him, and that perhaps in what had been said of his father's
debts and distress there might be more truth than he was
aware of. Prudently, therefore, controlling his feelings and
commanding himself, he suffered Mr. Mordicai to show him
into a parlour, to settle his friend's business. In a few minutes
the account was reduced to a reasonable form, and in considera-
tion of the partner's having made the bargain, by which Mr.
Mordicai felt himself influenced in honour, though not bound in
law, he undertook to have the curricle made better than new
again for Mr. Berryl, for twenty guineas. Then came awkward
apologies to Lord Colambre, which he ill endured. Between
ourselves, my lord," continued Mordicai-
6¢
But the familiarity of the phrase, "Between ourselves," this
implication of equality, Lord Colambre could not admit; he
moved hastily towards the door, and departed.
}
76
¿
.
STORIES OF IRELAND.
CHAPTER II.
FULL of what he had heard, and impatient to obtain further
information respecting the state of his father's affairs, Lord
Colambre hastened home; but his father was out, and his
mother was engaged with Mr. Soho, directing, or rather being
directed, how her apartments should be fitted up for her gala.
As Lord Colambre entered the room he saw his mother, Miss
Nugent, and Mr. Soho, standing at a large table, which was
covered with rolls of paper, patterns, and drawings of furniture.
Mr. Soho was speaking in a conceited, dictatorial tone, asserting
that there was no colour in nature for that room equal to
the belly-o’-the fawn; " which belly-o'-the fawn he so pronounced
that Lady Clonbrony understood it to be la belle uniforme, and
under this mistake, repeated and assented to the assertion, till
it was set to rights, with condescending superiority, by the
upholsterer. This first architectural upholsterer of the age, as
he styled himself, and was universally admitted to be by all the
world of fashion, then, with full powers given to him, spoke en
maître. The whole face of things must be changed; there must
be new hangings, new draperies, new cornices, new candelabras,
new everything!
The upholsterer's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,
Glances from ceiling to floor, from floor to ceiling;
And, as imagination bodies forth
The form of things unknown, the upholsterer's pencil
Turns them to shape, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
Of the value of a name no one could be more sensible than
Mr. Soho.
"Your la'ship sees that this is merely a scratch of my pencil.
Your la'ship's sensible; just to give you an idea of the shape,
the form of the thing, you fill up your angles here with encoi-
nières; round your walls with the Turkish tent drapery--a
fancy of my own-in apricot-cloth or crimson velvet, suppose,
or, en flute, in crimson satin draperies, fanned and riched with
gold fringes en suite. Intermediate spaces, Apollo's heads with
gold rays; and here, ma'am, you place four chancelières, with
chimeras at the corners, covered with blue silk and silver fringe,
elegantly fanciful; with my Statira canopy here-light blue
silk draperies - aërial tint, with silver balls. And for seats here,
the seraglio ottomans, superfine scarlet-your paws-griffin-
golden; and golden tripods here with antique cranes-and
oriental alabaster tables here and there-quite appropriate,
your la'ship feels-
Je me
L
THE ABSENTEE.
77
"And let me reflect. For the next apartment, it strikes me,
as your la'ship don't value expense, the Alhambra hangings, my
own thought entirely. Now, before I unroll them, Lady Clon-
brony, I must beg you'll not mention I've shown them. I give
you my sacred honour, not a soul has set eye upon the Alhambra
hangings except Mrs. Dareville, who stole a peep. I refused,
absolutely refused, the Duchess of Torcaster. But I can't
refuse your la'ship. So see, ma'am—(unrolling them)—scagliola
porphyry columns supporting the grand dome. Entablature,
silvered and decorated with imitative bronze ornaments. Under
the entablature a valance in pelmets, of puffed scarlet silk, would
have an unparalleled grand effect seen through the arches with
the Trebisond trellis-paper, would make a tout ensemble
novel beyond example. On that Trebisond trellis-paper, I
confess, ladies, I do pique myself.
"Then for the little room I recommend turning it tempo-
rarily into a Chinese pagoda, with this Chinese pagoda paper,
with the porcelain border, and josses, and jars, and beakers to
match; and I can venture to promise one vase of pre-eminent
size and beauty. Oh, indubitably! if your la'ship prefers it, you
can have the Egyptian hieroglyphic paper, with the ibis border
to match! The only objection is, one sees it everywhere; quite
antediluvian, gone even to the hotels. But, to be sure, if your
la'ship has a fancy. At all events, I humbly recommend,
what her Grace of Torcaster longs to patronise, my moon
curtains with candlelight draperies. A demisaison elegance
this-I hit off yesterday-and-true, your la'ship's quite cor-
rect-out of the common, completely. And of course you'd
have the Sphinx candelabras and the Phoenix argands. Oh!
nothing else lights now, ma'am ! Expense !-expense of the
whole Impossible to calculate here on the spot; but nothing
at all worth your ladyship's consideration!
At another moment Lord Colambre might have been amused
with all this rhodomontade, and with the airs and voluble con-
ceit of the orator; but after what he had heard at Mr. Mordi-
car's this whole scene struck him more with melancholy than
with mirth. He was alarmed at the prospect of new and
unbounded expense; provoked, almost past enduring, by the
jargon and impertinence of this upholsterer; mortified and
vexed to the heart to see his mother the dupe, the sport of
such a coxcomb.
"Prince of puppies! Insufferable! My own mother!" Lord
Colambre repeated to himself as he walked hastily up and down
the room.
CC
Colambre, won't you let us have your judgment; your
teeste ?" said his mother.
Excuse me, I have no taste, no judgment in these things."
78
STORIES OF IRELAND.
He sometimes paused and looked at Mr. Soho, with a strong
inclination to But knowing that he should say too much,
if he said anything, he was silent, and never dared to approach
the council-table. He continued walking up and down the
room till he heard a voice which at once arrested his attention
and soothed his ire. He approached the table instantly, and
listened, whilst Miss Nugent said everything he wished to have
said, and with all the propriety and delicacy with which he
thought he could not have spoken. He leaned on the table,
and fixed his eyes upon her: years ago, he had seen his cousin :
last night he had thought her handsome, pleasing, graceful;
but now he saw a new person, or he saw her in a new light.
He marked the superior intelligence, the animation, the elo-
quence of her countenance, its variety, whilst alternately, with
arch raillery or grave humour, she played off Mr. Soho, and
made him magnify the ridicule, till it was apparent even to
Lady Clonbrony. He observed the anxiety lest his mother
should expose her own foibles. He was touched by the respect-
ful, earnest kindness, the soft tones of persuasion, with which
she addressed his mother; the care not to presume upon her
own influence; the good sense, the taste, she showed, yet not
displaying her superiority; the address, temper, and patience
with which she at last accomplished her purpose, and prevented
Lady Clonbrony from doing anything preposterously absurd or
exorbitantly extravagant.
-
Lord Colambre was actually sorry when the business was
ended and Mr. Soho departed, for Miss Nugent was then silent;
aud it was necessary to remove his eyes from that countenance
on which he had gazed unobserved. Beautiful and graceful, yet
so unconscious was she of her charms that the eye of admiration
could rest upon her without her perceiving it. She seemed so
intent upon others as totally to forget herself. The whole train
of Lord Colambre's thoughts was so completely deranged that,
although he was sensible there was something of importance he
had to say to his mother, yet, when Mr. Soho's departure left
him at liberty to speak, he stood silent, unable to recollect any-
thing but Grace Nugent.
When Miss Nugent left the room, after some minutes' silence
and some effort Lord Colambre said to his mother, Pray,
madam, do you know anything of Sir Terence O'Fay ?"
"C
I!" said Lady Clonbrony, drawing up her head proudly.
"I know he is a person I cannot endure. He is no friend of
mine, I can assure you, nor any such sort of person.'
""
CC
'I thought it was impossible!" cried Lord Colambre with
exultation.
<<
"I only wish your father, Colambre, could say as much,"
added Lady Clonbrony.
THE ABSENTEE.
79
Lord Colambre's countenance fell again, and again he was
silent for some time.
"Does my father dine at home to-day ?"
"I suppose not; he seldom dines at home.'
66
Perhaps my father may have some cause to be uneasy
about?"
About ?" said Lady Clonbrony, in a tone and with a look of
curiosity, which convinced her son that she knew nothing of
his debts or distresses, if he had any. "About what?" repeated
her ladyship.
Here was no receding, and Lord Colambre never had recourse
to artifice.
“About his affairs, I was going to say, madam. But since
you know nothing of any difficulties or embarrassments I am
persuaded that none exist."
(C
Nay; I cawnt tell you that, Colambre. There are diffi-
culties for ready money, I confess, when I ask for it, which often
surprise me. I know nothing of affairs. Ladies of a certain
rank seldom do, you know. But considering your father's
estate and the fortune I brought him," added her ladyship,
proudly, "I cawnt conceive it at all. Grace Nugent indeed
often talks to me of embarrassments and economy; but that,
poor thing, is very natural for her, because her fortune is not
particularly large, and she has left it all, or almost all, in her
uncle and guardian's hands. I know she's often distressed for
odd money to lend me, and that makes her anxious.”
""
"Is not Miss Nugent very much admired in London ?'
"Of course; in the company she is in, you know, she has
every advantage. And she has a natural family air of fashion.
Not but what she would have got on much better if, when she
first appeared in Lon'on, she had taken my advice, and wrote
herself on her cards Miss de Nogent, which would have taken off
the prejudice against the Iricism of Nugent, you know; and
there is a Count de Nogent."
"I did not know there was any such prejudice. There may
be among a certain set, but I should think not among well-
informed, well-bred people."
(6
I big your pawdon, Colambre; surely I, that was born in
England, an Henglishwoman bawn! must be well infawmed on
this pint, anyway.
Lord Colambre was respectfully silent.
**
Mother," resumed he, "I wonder that Miss Nugent is not
married."
"That is her own fault, entirely; she has refused very good
offers; establishments that I own, I think, as Lady Langdale
says, Ι I was to blame to allow her to let pass; but young ledies,
till they are twenty, always think they can do better. Mr.
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Martingale of Martingale proposed for her, but she objected to
him on account of hees being on the turf; and Mr. St. Albans'
£7,000 a year, because I reelly forget what-I believe only
because she did not like him, and something about principles.
Now there is Colonel Heathcock, one of the most fashionable
young men you see, always with the Duchess of Torcaster and
that set. Heathcock takes a vast deal of notice of her, for him;
and yet I'm persuaded she would not have him to-morrow, if
he came to the pint, and for no reason, reelly now, that she can
give me, but because she says he's a coxcomb. Grace has a tinc-
ture of Irish pride. But for my part I rejoice that she is so
difficult, for I don't know what I should do without her."
So
"Miss Nugent is indeed very much attached to you, mother,
I am convinced," said Lord Colambre, beginning his sentence
with great enthusiasm, and ending it with great sobriety.
(1
Indeed, then, she's a sweet girl, and I am very partial to
her, there's the truth," cried Lady Clonbrony, in an undisguised
Irish accent, and with her natural warm manner. But a moment
afterwards her features and whole form resumed their con-
strained stillness and stiffness, and in her English accent she
continued-
Before you put my idears out of my head, Colambre, I had
something to say to you. Oh, I know what it was; we were
talking of embarrassments; and I wish to do your father the
justice to mention to you that he has been uncommon liberal to
me about this gala, and has reelly given me carte blanche; and
I've a notion-indeed I know-that it is you, Colambre, I am to
thank for this."
Me! mother ?"
"Yes! Did not your father give you any hint ?"
CC
No; I have seen my father but for half-an-hour since I
came to town, and in that time he said nothing to me-of his
affairs.'
15
CC
But what I allude to is more your affair."
"He did not speak to me of any affairs; he spoke only of my
horses."
"Then I suppose my lord leaves it to me to open the matter
to you. I have the pleasure to tell you that we have in view for
you-and I think I may say with more than the approbation of
all her family-an alliance."
CC
Oh, my dear mother! you cannot be serious," cried Lord
Colambre. "You know I am not of years of discretion yet. I
shall not think of marrying these ten years at least."
(<
Why not? Nay, my dear Colambre, don't go, I beg. I
am serious, I assure you; and to convince you of it I shall tell
you candidly at once all your father told me. That now you've
done with Cambridge and are come to Lon'on, he agrees with
!
14
1
THE ABSENTEE.
81
me in wishing that you should make the figure you ought to
make, Colambre, as sole heir apparent to the Clonbrony estate,
and all that sort of thing. But, ou the other hand, living in
Lon’on, and making you the handsome allowance you ought to
have, are, both together, more than your father can afford
without inconvenience, he tells me."
"I assure you, mother, I shall be content."
"No, no; you must not be content, child, and you must hear
me. You must live in a becoming style, and make a proper
appearance. I could not present you to my friends here, nor be
happy, if you did not, Colambre. Now, the way is clear before
you. You have birth and title, here is fortune ready made; you
will have a noble estate of your own when old Quin dies, and
you will not be any incumbrance or inconvenience to your
father or anybody. Marrying an heiress accomplishes all this at
once. And the young lady is everything we could wish, besides.
You will meet again at the gala. Indeed, between ourselves,
she is the grand object of the gala. All her friends will come
en masse, and one should wish that they should see things in
proper style. You have seen the young lady in question,
Colambre-Miss Broadhurst. Don't you recollect the young
lady I introduced you to last night, after the opera ?
"The little plain girl covered with diamonds, who was
standing beside Miss Nugent ?
66
In diamonds, yes. But you won't think her plain when you
see more of her. That wears off. I thought her plain at first.
I hope-
""
•
I hope," said Lord Colambre, "that you will not take it un-
kindly of me, my dear mother, if I tell you at once that I have
no thoughts of marrying at present, and that I never will marry
for money. Marrying an heiress is not even a new way of
paying old debts; at all events, it is one to which no distress
could persuade me to have recourse; and as I must, if I outlive
old Mr. Quin, have an independent fortune, there is no occasion
to purchase one by marriage."
"There is no distress, that I know of, in the case," cried Lady
Clonbrony. "Where is your imagination running, Colambre?
But merely for your establishment, your independence."
66
Establishment, I want none; independence, I do desire and
will preserve. Assure my father, my dear mother, that I will
not be an expense to him. I will live within the allowance he
made me at Cambridge. I will give up half of it; I will do any-
thing for his convenience; but marry for money, that I cannot
do."
"C
-
ور
Then, Colambre, you are very disobliging," said Lady Clon-
brony with an expression of disappointment and displeasure;
"for your father says, if you don't marry Miss Broadhurst, we
can't live in Lon'on another winter."
82
STORIES OF IRELAND.
This revelation made, which, had she been at the moment
mistress of herself, she would not have betrayed, Lady Clonbrony
abruptly quitted the room. Her son stood motionless, saying
to himself-
}
"Is this my mother? How altered!"
The next morning he seized an opportunity of speaking to his
father, whom he caught with difficulty, just as he was going out,
as usual, for the day. Lord Colambre, with all the respect due
to his father, and with that affectionate manner by which he
always knew how to soften the strength of his expressions, made
nearly the same declarations of his resolution by which his
mother had been so much surprised and offended. Lord Clon-
brony seemed more embarrassed, but not so much displeased.
When Lord Colambre adverted, as delicately as he could, to the
selfishness of desiring from him the sacrifice of liberty for life,
to say nothing of his affections, merely to enable his family to
make a splendid figure in London, Lord Clonbrony exclaimed:
"That's all nonsense! cursed nonsense! That's the way we are
obliged to state the thing to your mother, my dear boy, because
I might talk her deaf before she would understand or listen to
anything else. But for my own share, I don't care a rush if
London was sunk in the salt sea. Little Dublin for my money,
as Sir Terence O'Fay says."
(C
Who is Sir Terence O'Fay?
"Why, don't you know Terry?
Cambridge; I forgot. And did you never see Terry?
"I have see him, sir; I met him yesterday at Mr. Mordicai's,
the coachmaker's."
(C
May I ask, sir?"
Ay, you've been so long at
""
ور
Mordicai's! exclaimed Lord Clonbrony with a sudden
blush, which he endeavoured to hide by taking snuff..
"He is
a damned rascal, that Mordicai! I hope you didn't believe a
word he said. Nobody does that knows him.
""
"I am glad that you seem to know him so well, and to be
upon your guard against him," replied Lord Colambre; "for
from what I heard of his conversation, when he was not aware
who I was, I am convinced he would do you any injury in his
power."
"He shall never have me in his power, I promise him. We
shall take care of that. But what did he say ?
"}
Lord Colambre repeated the substance of what Mordicai
had said, and Lord Clonbrony reiterated, Damned rascal !-
damned rascal! I'll get out of his hands. I'll have no more to
do with him." But as he spoke he exhibited evident symptoms
of uneasiness, moving continually, and shifting from leg to leg,
like a foundered horse.
He could not bring hinself positively to deny that he had
debts and difficulties; but he would by no means open the state
THE ABSENTEE.
33
of his affairs to his son. "No father is called upon to do that,'
said he to himself. "None but a fool would do it."
Lord Colambre, perceiving his father's embarrassment, with-
drew his eyes, respectfully refrained from all further inquiries,
and simply repeated the assurance he had made to his mother,
that he would put his family to no additional expense, and
that, if it was necessary, he would willingly give up half his
allowance.
(C
"Not at all-not at all, my dear boy," said his father. I
would rather cramp myself than that you should be cramped,
a thousand times over. But it is all my Lady Clonbrony s
nonsense. If people would but, as they ought to do, stay in their
own country, live on their own estates, and kill their own mutton,
money need never be wanting."
For killing their own mutton Lord Colambre did not see the
indispensable necessity; but he rejoiced to hear his father assert
that people should reside in their own country.
"Ay," cried Lord Clonbrony, to strengthen his assertion, as
he always thought it necessary to do, by quoting some other
person's opinion, "so Sir Terence O'Fay always says, and that's
the reason your mother can't endure poor Terry. You don't
know Terry? No, you have only seen him; but, indeed, to see
him is to know him; for he is the most offhand good fellow in
Europe.'
"I don't pretend to know him yet," said Lord Colambre;
"I am not so presumptuous as to form my opinion at first
sight."
"C
Oh, curse your modesty!" interrupted Lord Clonbrony:
you mean you don't pretend to like him yet; but Terry will
make you like him. I defy you not to like him. I'll introduce
you to him; him to you, I mean. Most warm-hearted, generous
dog upon earth-convivial-jovial-with wit and humour
enough, in his own way, to split you: split me if he has not!
You need not cast down your eyes, Colambre.
What's your
"C
objection ?
"I have made none; but, if you urge me, I can only say that
if he has all these good qualities, it is to be regretted that he
does not look and speak a little more like a gentleman."
"A gentleman! He is as much a gentleman as any of your
formal prigs. Not the exact Cambridge cut, maybe. Curse
your English education !-'twas none of my advice. I suppose
you mean to take after your mother in the notion that nothing
can be good or gentcel but what's English?
1
"Far from it, sir; I assure you, I am as warm a friend to Ire-
land as your heart could wish. You will have no reason, in that
respect at least, nor I hope in any other, to curse my English
education. If my gratitude and affection can avail, you shall
>>
}
84
STORIES OF IRELAND.
never regret the kindness and liberality with which you have,
I fear, distressed yourself to afford me the means of becoming
all that a British nobleman ought to be."
""
"Gad! you distress me now!" said Lord Clonbrony, and I
didn't expect it, or I wouldn't make a fool of myself this way,'
added he, ashamed of his emotion, and whiffling it off.
"You
have an Irish heart, that I see, which no education can spoil.
But you must like Terry. I will give you time, as he said to
me when first he taught me to like usquebaugh. Good morn-
ing to you!"
Whilst Lady Clonbrony, in consequence of her residence in
London, had become more of a fine lady, Lord Clonbrony since
he left Ireland had become less of a gentleman. Lady Clon-
brony, born an Englishwoman, disclaiming and disencumbering
herself of all the Irish in town, had, by giving splendid enter-
tainments at an enormous expense, made her way into a certain
set of fashionable company. But Lord Clonbrony, who was
somebody in Ireland, a great person in Dublin, found himself
nobody in England, a mere cipher in London. Looked down
upon by the fine people with whom his lady associated, and
heartily weary of them, he retreated from them altogether, and
sought entertainment and self-complacency in society, beneath
him indeed, both in rank and education, but in which he had
the satisfaction of feeling himself the first person in company.
Of these associates, the first in talents and in jovial profligacy
was Sir Terence O'Fay, a man of low extraction, who had been
knighted by an Irish lord-lieutenant in some convivial frolic.
No one could tell a good story or sing a good song better than
Sir Terence; he exaggerated his native brogue and his natural
propensity to blunder, caring little whether the company laughed
at him or with him, provided they laughed. "Live and laugh;
laugh and live," was his motto; and certainly he lived on laugh-
ing as well as many better men can contrive to live on a
thousand a year.
Lord Clonbrony brought Sir Terence home with him next day,
to introduce him to Lord Colambre; and it happened that on
this occasion Terence appeared to peculiar disadvantage, because,
like many other people, "Il gûtait l'esprit qu'il avait, en voulant
avoir celui qu'il n'avait pas.
Having been apprised that Lord Colambre was a fine scholar,
fresh from Cambridge, and being conscious of his own defici-
encies of literature, instead of trusting to his natural talents, he
summoned to his aid, with no small effort, all the scraps of learn-
ing he had acquired in early days, and even brought before the
company all the gods and goddesses with whom he had formed
an acquaintance at school. Though embarrassed by this un-
usual incumbrance of learning, he endeavoured to make all
""
THE ABSENTEE.
85
subservient to his immediate design of paying his court to
Lady Clonbrony by forwarding the object she had most
anxiously in view-the match between her son and Miss
Broadhurst.
"And so, Miss Nugent," said he-not daring, with all his
assurance, to address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony-" and
so, Miss Nugent, you are going to have great doings, I'm told,
and a wonderful grand gala. There's nothing in the wide world
equal to being in a good handsome crowd. No later now than
the last ball at the Castle, that was before I left Dublin, Miss
Nugent, the apartments, owing to the popularity of my lady-
lieutenant, were so thronged-so thronged-that I remember very
well, in the doorway, a lady—and a very genteel woman she was
too, though a stranger to me-saying to me, 'Sir, your finger's
in my ear.'
ear.' 'I know it, madam,' says I, 'but I can't take it
out till the crowd give me elbow-room.'
64
But it's gala I'm thinking of now. I hear you are to have
the golden Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won't you?"
Sir!"
In spite of this freezing monosyllable, Sir Terence pursued his
course fluently. "The golden Venus! Sure, Miss Nugent, you
that are so quick can't but know I would apostrophize Miss
Broadhurst that is-but that won't be long so, I hope. My Lord
Colambre, have you seen much yet of that young lady ?"
'No, sir."
+6
"Then I hope you won't be long so. I hear great talk now of
the Venus of Medicis, and the Venus of this and that, with the
Florence Venus, aud the sable Venus, and that other Venus
that's washing of her hair, and a hundred other Venuses, some
good, some bad. But be that as it will, my lord, trust a fool—
ye may when he tells you truth-the golden Venus is the only
one on earth that can stand, or that will stand, through all ages
and temperatures, for gold rules the court, gold rules the camp,
and men below and heaven above."
"Heaven above! Take care, Terry! Do you know what
you're saying?" interrupted Lord Clonbrony.
46
Do I? Don't I?" replied Terry. "Deny, if you please, my
lord, that it was for a golden pippin that the three goddesses fit
and that the Hippomenes was about golden apples-and did
not Hercules rob a garden for golden apples? Did not the pious
Eneas himself take a golden branch with him, to make himself
welcome to his father in hell?" said Sir Terence, winking at
Lord Colambre.
66
Why, Terry, you know more about books than I should have
suspected," said Lord Clonbrony.
Nor you would not have suspected me to have such a great
acquaintance among the goddesses neither, would you, my lord?
66
1
1
F
86
STORIES OF IRELAND.
But, apropos, before we quit, of what material, think ye, was
that same Venus's famous girdle, now, that made roses and lilies
appear so quickly? Why, what was it but a girdle of sterling
gold, I'll engage? For gold is the only true thing for a young
man to look after in a wife."
Sir Terence paused, but no applause ensued.
"Let them talk of Cupids and darts, and the mother of the
Loves and Graces. Minerva may sing odes and dythambrics, or
whatsoever her wisdomship pleases. Let her siug, or let her say,
she'll never get a husband, in this world or the other, without
she had a good thumping fortin, and then she'd go off like wild-
fire."
*
"No, no, Terry, there you're out. Minerva has too bad a cha-
racter for learning to be a favourite with gentlemen," said Lord
Clonbrony.
"Tut! Don't tell me! I'd get her off before you could say
Jack Robinson, and thank you too, if she had £50,000 down, or
£1,000 a year in land. Would you have a man so nice as to
balk when house and land is a-going-a-going-a-going!-
because of the encumbrance of a little learning? But, after all, I
never heard that Miss Broadhurst was anything of a learned
lady."
"How did you get
"Miss Broadhurst!" said Miss Nugent.
round to Miss Broadhurst ? "
*
Oh! by the way of Tipperary," said Lord Colambre.
"I beg your pardon, my lord, it was apropos to a good fortune,
which I hope will not be out of your way, even if you went by
Tipperary. She has, besides £100,000 in the funds, a clear
landed property of £10,000 per annum. Well! some people talk
of morality, and some of religion; but give me a little snug pro-
perty. But, my lord, I've a little business to transact this
morning, and must not be idling and indulging myself here.”
So, bowing to the ladies, he departed.
'
Really, I am glad that man is gone," said Lady Clonbrony.
"What a relief to one's ears! I am sure I wonder, my lord, how
you can bear to carry that strange creature always about with
you, so vulgar as he is."
CO
He diverts me," said Lord Clonbrony, "while many of your
correct-mannered fine ladies or gentlemen send me to sleep.
What signifies what accent people speak in that have nothing
to say? Eh, Colambre ?"
Lord Colambre, from respect to his father, did not express his
opinion; but his aversion to Sir Terence O'Fay was stronger
even than his mother's; though Lady Clonbrony's detestation
of him was much increased by perceiving that his coarse hints
about Miss Broadhurst had operated against her favourite
scheme.
}
*
=
F
-
87
THE ABSENTEE.
She
The next morning at breakfast Lord Clonbrony talked of
bringing Sir Terence with him that night to her gala.
absolutely grew pale with horror.
35
"Good heavens! Lady Langdale, Mrs. Dareville, Lady Po-
cocke, Lady Chatterton, Lady D, Lady G
Lady G, his Grace-of
V-
; what would they think of him? And Miss Broadhurst,
to see him going about with my Lord Clonbrony ! It could
not be. No; her ladyship made the most solemn and desperate
protestation that she would sooner give up her gala altogether;
tie up the knocker; say she was sick; rather be sick or be dead
than be obliged to have such creature as Sir Terence O'Fay at
her gala.
Have your own way, my dear, in this as in everything else,"
cried Lord Clonbrony, taking up his hat and preparing to de-
camp; "but take notice, if you won't receive him you need not
expect me. So a good morning to you, my Lady Clonbrony.
You may find a worse friend in need yet than that same Sir
Terence O'Fay."
"I trust I shall never be in need, my lord," replied her lady-
ship. "It would be strange indeed if I were, with the fortune
I brought."
CC
Oh! that fortune of hers!" cried Lord Clonbrony, stopping
both his ears as he ran out of the room.
Shall I never
hear the end of that fortune, when I've seen the end of it long
ago?"
6C
During this matrimonial dialogue Miss Nugent and Lord
Colambre never once looked at each other. She was very dili-
gently trying the changes that could be made in the positions.
of a china mouse, a cat, a dog, a cup, and a Brahmin on the
mantelpiece; and Lord Colambre was as diligently engaged
reading the newspaper.
"Now, my dear Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "put down
the paper and listen to me. Let me entreat you not to neglect
Miss Broadhurst to-night, as I know that the family come here
chiefly on your account."
(C
My dear mother, I never can neglect any deserving young
lady, and particularly one of your guests; but I shall be careful
not to show any particular attention to Miss Broadhurst, for I
never will pretend what I do not feel."
66
But, my dear Colambre, Miss Broadhurst is everything you
could wish, except being a beauty.'
Co
Perhaps, madam," said Lord Colambre, fixing his eyes on
Miss Nugent, "you think that I can see no farther than a
handsome face ?"
""
The unconscious Grace Nugent now made a warm eulogium
of Miss Broadhurst's sense and wit and independence of
character,
}
}
88
STORIES OF IRELAND.
tr
I did not know that Miss Broadhurst was a friend of yours,
Miss Nugent?"
"She is, I assure you, a friend of mine; and as a proof, I
will not praise her at this moment. I will go farther still, I will
promise that I never will praise her to you till you begin to
praise her to me."
Lord Colambre smiled, and now listened as if he wished that
she should go on speaking, even of Miss Broadhurst.
"Oh!
"That's my sweet Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony.
she knows how to manage these men; not one of them can resist
her!
""
Lord Colambre, for his part, did not deny the truth of this
assertion.
"Grace," added Lady Clonbrony, "make him promise to do
as we would have him."
6
“No. · Promises are dangerous things to ask or to give,” said
Grace. "Men and naughty children never make promises, espe-
cially promises to be good, without longing to break them the
next minute."
(C
Well, at least, child, persuade him, I charge you, to make
my gala go off well. That's the first thing we ought to think of
now. Ring the bell! And all heads and hands I put in reqni-
sition for the gala.'
""
CHAPTER III.
THE opening of her gala, the display of her splendid reception-
rooms, the Turkish tent, the Alhambra, the pagoda, formed a
proud moment to Lady Clonbrony. Much did she enjoy, and
much too naturally, notwithstanding all her efforts to be stiff
and stately, much too naturally did she show her enjoyment of
the surprise excited in some and affected by others, on their
first entrance.
One young, very young lady, expressed her astonishment so
audibly as to attract the notice of all the bystanders. Lady
Clonbrony, delighted, seized both her hands, shook them, and
laughed heartily; then, as the young lady with her party
passed on, her ladyship recovered herself, drew up her head,
and said to the company near her:
"Poor thing! I hope I covered her little naïveté properly.
How new she must be!”
Then, with well-practised dignity and half-subdued self-
;
་
$
THE ABSENTEE.
89
complacency of aspect, her ladyship went gliding about, most
importantly busy; introducing my Lady This to the Sphinx can-
delabra, and my Lady That to the Trebisond trellis; placing some
delightfully for the perspective of the Alhambra; establishing
others quite to her satisfaction on seraglio ottomans; and
honouring others with a seat under the Statira canopy. Re-
ceiving and answering compliments from successive crowds
of select friends, imagining herself the mirror of fashion and
the admiration of the whole world, Lady Clonbrony was, for
her hour, as happy certainly as ever woman was in similar
circumstances.
Her son looked at her, and wished that this happiness could
last. Naturally inclined to sympathy, Lord Colambre reproached
himself for not feeling as gay at this instant as the occasion re-
quired. But the festive scene, the blazing lights, the "universal
hubbub," failed to raise his spirits. As a dead weight hung the
remembrance of Mordicai's denunciations; and through the
midst of this Eastern magnificence, of this unbounded profusion,
he thought he saw future domestic misery and ruin to those he
loved best in the world.
The only object present on which his eye rested with pleasure
was Grace Nugent. Beautiful, in elegant and dignified sim-
plicity, thoughtless of herself, yet with a look of thought and
with an air of melancholy which accorded exactly with his own
feelings, and which he believed to arise from the same reflections
that had passed in his own mind.
"Miss Broadhurst, Colambre! All the Broadhursts!" said
his mother, wakening him as she passed by to receive them as
they entered. Miss Broadhurst appeared, plainly dressed
-plainly, even to singularity, without any diamonds or orna-
ment.
(C
Brought Philippa to you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, this
figure, rather than not bring her at all," said puffing Mrs.
Broadhurst; and had all the difficulty in the world to get her
out at all; and now I've promised she shall stay but half-an-
hour. Sore throat-terrible cold she took in the morning. I'll
swear for her, she'd not have come for any one but you.'
>>
The young lady did not seem inclined to swear, or even to
say this for herself. She stood wonderfully unconcerned and
passive, with an expression of humour lurking in her eyes and
about the corners of her mouth; whilst Lady Clonbrony was
"shocked," and "gratified," and "concerned," and "flattered;"
and whilst everybody was hoping, and fearing, and busying
themselves about her: Miss Broadhurst, you'd better sit
here!" "Oh! for heaven's sake! Miss Broadhurst, not there!"
"Miss Broadhurst, if you'll take my opinion;" and "Miss
Broadhurst, if I may advise
66
*J
}
CC
TEX
MARE VA
}
1
1
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Grace Nugent!" cried Lady Clonbrony, "Miss Broadhurst
always listens to you. Do, my dear, persuade Miss Broadhurst
to take care of herself, and let us take her to the inner little
pagoda, where she can be so warm and so retired. Colambre,
pioneer the way for us, for the crowd's immense.'
""
Lady Anne and Lady Catherine H, Lady Langdale's
daughters, were at this time leaning on Miss Nugent's arm,
and moved along with this party to the inner pagoda. There
were to be cards in one room, music in another, dancing in
a third, and in this little room there were prints and chess-
boards, &c.
90
"Here you will be quite to yourselves," said Lady Clonbrony.
"Let me establish you comfortably in this, which I call my
sanctuary, my snuggery. Colambre, that little table. Miss
Broadhurst, you play chess ? Colambre, you'll play with Miss
Broadhurst.'
">
"I thank your ladyship," said Miss Broadhurst, "but I know
nothing of chess but the moves. Lady Catharine, you will play
and I will look on."
Miss Broadhurst drew her seat to the fire, and Lady Catha-
rine sat down to play with Lord Colambre. Lady Clonbrony
withdrew, again recommending Miss Broadhurst to Grace
Nugent's care. After some commonplace conversation, Lady
Anne H, looking at the company in the adjoining apart-
ment, asked her sister how old Miss Somebody was who passed
by. This led to reflections upon the comparative age and
youthful appearance of several of their acquaintance, and
upon the care with which mothers concealed the age of their
daughters. Glances passed between Lady Catharine and Lady
Anne.
66
For my part," said Miss Broadhurst, "my mother would
labour that point of secrecy in vain for me; for I am willing to
tell my age, even if my face did not tell it for me, to all whom
it may concern. I am past three-and-twenty; shall be four-and-
twenty the 5th of next July."
(C
Three-and-twenty! Bless me! I thought you were not
twenty!" cried Lady Anne.
(C
Four-and-twenty next July! Impossible!" cried Lady
Catharine.
Very possible," said Miss Broadhurst, quite unconcerned.
Now, Lord Colambre, would you believe it? Can you be-
lieve it ?" asked Lady Catharine.
Yes, he can," said Miss Broadhurst. "Don't you see that
he believes it, as firmly as you and I do? Why should you
force his lordship to pay a compliment contrary to his better
judgment, or to extort a smile from him under false
pretences ? I am sure he sees that you, ladies, and I
CC
}
7
(
THE ABSENTEE.
91
trust he perceives that I do not think the worse .of him for
this."
Lord Colambre smiled now without any false pretence, and
relieved at once from all apprehension of her joining in his
mother's views, or of her expecting particular attention from
him, he became at ease with Miss Broadhurst, showed a desire
to converse with her, and listened eagerly to what she said.
He recollected that Miss Nugent had told him that this young
lady had no common character; and neglecting his move at
chess, he looked up at Miss Nugent, as much as to say, "Draw
her out, pray."
But Grace was too good a friend to comply with that request;
she left Miss Broadhurst to unfold her own character.
"It is your move, my lord," said Lady Catharine.
(6
I beg your ladyship's pardon."
"Are not these rooms beautiful, Miss Broadhurst ? " said Lady
Catharine, determined if possible to turn the conversation into
a commonplace, safe channel; for she had just felt, what most of
Miss Broadhurst's acquaintance had in their turn felt, that she
had an odd way of startling people by setting their own secret
little motives suddenly before them.
"Are not these rooms beautiful ? "
"Beautiful! Certainly.
""
The beauty of the rooms would have answered Lady Catha-
rine's purpose for some time, had not Lady Anne imprudently
brought the conversation back again to Miss Broadhurst.
"Do you know, Miss Broadhurst," said she, "that if I had
fifty sore throats, I could not have refrained from my diamonds
on this gala night; and such diamonds as you have! Now,
really, I could not believe you to be the same person we saw
blazing at the opera the other night!"
(C
Really! Could you not, Lady Anne? That is the very thing
that entertains me. I only wish that I could lay aside my for-
tune sometimes, as well as my diamonds, and see how few
people would know me then. Might I not, Grace, by the golden
rule, which next to practice is the best rule in the world, cal-
culate and answer that question ?"
"I am persuaded," said Lord Colambre, "that Miss Broad-
hurst has friends on whom the experiment would make no
difference."
"I am convinced of it," said Miss Broadhurst; "and that is
what makes me tolerably happy, though I have the misfortune
to be an heiress."
"That is the oddest speech!" said Lady Anne. "Now, I
should so like to be a great heiress, and to have, like you, such
thousands and thousands at command."
"And what can the thousands upon thousands do for me ?
1
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Hearts, you know, Lady Anne, are to be won only by radiant
eyes. Bought hearts your ladyship certainly would not recom-
mend They're such poor things; no wear at all. Turn them
which way you will, you can make nothing of them."
"You've tried, then, have you ?" said Lady Catharine.
<<
To my cost. Very nearly taken in by them half-a-dozen
times, for they are brought to me by dozens, and they are so
made up for sale, and the people do so swear to you that it's
real, real love, and it looks so like it; and if you stoop to
examine it, you hear it pressed upon you by such elegant oaths:
By all that's lovely! By all my hopes of happiness! By your
own charming self! Why, what can one do but look like a fool,
and believe? For these men at the time all look so like gentle-
men, that one cannot bring oneself flatly to tell them that they
are cheats and swindlers, that they are perjuring their pre-
cious souls. Besides, to call a lover a prejudiced creature is
to encourage him. He would have a right to complain if you
went back after that."
92
“O dear! what a move was there!" cried Lady Catharine.
"Miss Broadhurst is so entertaining to-night, notwithstanding
her sore throat, that one can positively attend to nothing else.
And she talks of love, and lovers too, with such connaissance
de fait; counts her lovers by dozens, tied up in true-lover's
knots!
""
"Lovers! No, no! Dil I say lovers? Suitors, I should have
said. There's nothing less like a lover, a true lover, than a
suitor, as all the world knows, ever since the days of Penelope.
Dozens! Never had a lover in my life, and fear, with much
reason, I never shall have one to my mind."
66
f
'My lord, you've given up the game," cried Lady Catharine,
but you make no battle."
"It would be so vain to combat against your ladyship," said
Lord Colambre, rising, and bowing politely to Lady Catharine;
but turning the next instant to converse with Miss Broadhurst.
6.
But when I talked of liking to be an heiress," said Lady
Anne, "I was not thinking of lovers."
总
​Certainly. One is not always thinking of lovers, you know,”
added Lady Catharine.
"Not always," replied Miss Broadhurst.
Well, lovers out
of the question on all sides, what would your ladyship buy with
the thousands upon thousands ? "
41
Oh, everything if I were you," said Lady Anne.
Rank, to begin with," said Lady Catharine.
6:
Still my old objection: bought rank is but a shabby
thing."
1
But there is so little difference made between bought and
hereditary rank in these days," said Lady Catherine.
61
tr
1
93
THE ABSENTEE.
"I see a great deal still," said Miss Broadhurst;
that I would never buy a title."
"A title without birth, to be sure," said Lady Anne, "would
not be so well worth buying; and as birth certainly is not to be
bought-
رد
rr
so much
"And even birth, were it to be bought, I would not buy," said
Miss Broadhurst, "unless I could be sure to have with it all the
politeness, all the noble sentiments, all the magnanimity, in
short, all that should grace and dignify high birth.”
"Admirable!" said Lord Colambre. Grace Nugent smiled.
"Lord Colambre, will you have the goodness to put my mother
in mind I must go away ?"
"I am bound to obey, but I am very sorry for it," said his
lordship.
"Are we to have any dancing to-night, I wonder?" said Lady
Catharine. Miss Nugent, I am afraid we have made Miss
Broadhurst talk so much, in spite of her hoarseness, that Lady
Clonbrony will be quite angry with us. And here she comes! "
My Lady Clonbrony came to hope, to beg, that Miss Broad-
hurst would not think of running away; but Miss Broadhurst
could not be prevailed upon to stay. Lady Clonbrony was
delighted to see that her son assisted Grace Nugent most care-
fully in attending upon Miss Broadhurst. His lordship con-
ducted her to her carriage, and his mother drew many happy
auguries from the gallantry of his manner, and from the young
lady's having stayed three-quarters instead of half-an-hour; a
circumstance which Lady Catharine did not fail to remark.
The dancing, which under various pretences Lady Cloubrony
had delayed till Lord Colambre was at liberty, begau imme-
diately after Miss Broadhurst's departure; and the chalked
mosaic pavement of the Alhambra was in a few minutes effaced
by the dancers' feet. How transient are all human joys, espe-
cially those of vanity! Even on this long-meditated, this long-
desired, this gala night, Lady Cloubrony found her triumph
incomplete-inadequate to her expectations. For the first hour
all had been compliment, success, and smiles; presently came
the buts, and the hesitated objections, and the " damning with
faint praise." All that could be borne. Everybody has his
taste, and one person's taste is as good as another's; and while
she had Mr. Soho to cite Lady Clonbrony thought she might be
well satisfied. But she could not be satisfied with Colonel
Heathcock, who, dressed in black, had stretched his "fashion-
able length of limb" under the Statira canopy, upon the snow.
white swandown couch. When, after having monopolized atten-
tion, and been the subject of much bad wit about black swans
and rare birds, and swans being geese, and geese being swans, the
colonel condescended to rise, and, as Mrs. Dareville said, to
>
94
STORIES OF IRELAND.
vacate his couch, that couch was no longer white; the black
impression of the colonel remained on the sullied snow.
Eh, now!—really didn't recollect I was in black," was all
the apology he made. Lady Clonbrony was particularly vexed
that the appearance of the Statira canopy should be spoiled
before the effect had been seen by Lady Pococke, and Lady
Chatterton, and Lady G, Lady P, and the Duke of
V, and a party of superlative fashionables, who had pro-
mised to "look in upon her," but who, late as it was, had not yet
arrived. They came at last. But Lady Clonbrony had no reason
to regret, for their sake, the Statira couch. It would have been
lost upon them, as was everything else which she had prepared
with so much pains and cost to excite their admiration. They
came resolute not to admire. Skilled in the art of making
others unhappy, they just looked round with an air of apathy.
Ah! you've had Soho! Soho has done wonders for you here!
Vastly well!-vastly well! Soho's very clever in his way ! "
Others of great importance came in, full of some slight acci-
dent that had happened to themselves, or their horses, or their
carriages; and with privileged selfishness engrossed the attention
of all within their sphere of conversation. Well, Lady Clon-
brony got over all this, and got over the history of a letter
about a chimney that was on fire, a week ago, at the Duke of
V's old house in Brecknockshire. In gratitude for the
smiling patience with which she listened to him, his Grace of
V- fixed his glass to look at the Alhambra, and had just
pronounced it to be "Well!-very well!" when the dowager
Lady Chatterton made a terrible discovery-a discovery that
filled Lady Clonbrony with astonishment and indignation. Mr.
Soho had played her false! What was her mortification when
the dowager assured her that these identical Alhambra hang-
ings had not only been shown by Mr. Soho to the Duchess of
Torcaster, but that her Grace had had the refusal of them, and
had actually refused them, in consequence of Sir Horace Grant,
the great traveller, objecting to some of the proportions of the
pillars. Soho had engaged to make a new set, vastly improved,
by Sir Horace's suggestions, for her Grace of Torcaster.
Now, Lady Chatterton was the greatest talker extant; and
she went about the rooms telling everybody of her acquaintance
-and she was acquainted with everybody-how shamefully
Soho had imposed upon poor Lady Clonbrony, protesting she
could not forgive the man. "For," said she, "though the
Duchess of Torcaster has been his constant customer for ages,
and his patroness, and all that, yet this does not excuse him.
Lady Clonbrony's being a stranger, and from Ireland, makes
the thing worse." From Ireland! That was the unkindest
cut of all. But there was no remedy.
CC
66
THE ABSENTEE.
95
In vain poor Lady Clonbrony followed the dowager about the
rooms to correct this mistake, and to represent, in justice to
Mr. Soho, though he had used her so ill, that he knew she was
an Englishwoman. The dowager was deaf, and no whisper
could reach her ear. And when Lady Clonbrony was obliged
to bawl an explanation in her ear, the dowager only repeated-
In justice to Mr. Soho! No, no; he has not done you
justice, my dear Lady Clonbrony! And I'll expose him to every-
body. Englishwoman!-no, no, no! Soho could not take you
for an English woman!
66
All who secretly envied or ridiculed Lady Clonbrony enjoyed
this scene. The Alhambra hangings, which had been, one
short hour before, the admiration of the world, were now re-
garded by every eye with contempt as cast hangings; and every
tongue was busy declaiming against Mr. Soho. Everybody
declared that from the first the want of proportion had struck
them, "but that they would not mention it till others found it
out.
دو
"
People usually revenge themselves for having admired too
much by afterwards despising and depreciating without mercy.
In all great assemblies the perception of ridicule is quickly
caught, and quickly, too, revealed. Lady Clonbrony, even in
her own house, on her gala night, became an object of ridicule
-decently masked, indeed, under the appearance of condolence
with her ladyship, and of indignation against "that abominable
Mr. Soho!”
Lady Langdale, who was now, for reasons of her own, upon
her good behaviour, did penance, as she said, for her former
imprudence, by abstaining even from whispered sarcasms. She
looked on with penitential gravity, said nothing herself, and
endeavoured to keep Mrs. Dareville in order; but that was no
easy task.
Mrs. Dareville had no daughters-had nothing to
gain from the acquaintance of my Lady Clonbrony; and, con-
scious that her ladyship would bear a vast deal from her
presence rather than forego the honour of her sanction, Mrs.
Dareville, without any motives of interest, or good nature of
sufficient power to restrain her talent and habit of ridicule, free
from hope or fear, gave full scope to all the malice of mockery
and all the insolence of fashion. Her slings and arrows,
numerous as they were and outrageous, were directed against
such petty objects, and the mischief was so quick in its aim and
in its operation, that, felt but not seen, it is scarcely possible to
register the hits or to describe the nature of the wounds.
Some hits, sufficiently palpable, however, were recorded for
the advantage of posterity. When Lady Clonbrony led her to
look at the Chinese pagoda, the lady paused, with her foot on
the threshold, as if afraid to enter this porcelain Elysium, as
¿
1
96
STORIES OF IRELAND.
she called it-Fool's Paradise, she would have said; and by her
hesitation, and by the half-pronounced word, suggested the
idea: “None but belles without petticoats can enter here," said
she, drawing her clothes tight round her; "fortunately, I have
but two, and Lady Langdale has but one." Prevailed upon to
venture in, she walked on with prodigious care and trepidation,
affecting to be alarmed at the crowd of strange forms and
monsters by which she was surrounded.
""
"Not a creature here that I ever saw before in nature!
Well, now I may boast I've been in a real Chinese pagoda!
Why, yes; everything is appropriate here, I flatter myself,"
said Lady Clonbrony.
C
"And how good of you, my dear Lady Clonbrony, in defiance
of bulls and blunders, to allow us a comfortable English fire-
place, and plenty of Newcastle coal, in China! and a white
marble-no, white velvet-hearth-rug, painted with beautiful
Howers. Oh! the delicate, the useful thing!"
(C
Vexed by the emphasis on the word useful, Lady Clonbrony
endeavoured to turn off the attention of the company. Lady
Langdale, your ladyship's a judge of china. This vase is a
unique, I am told
""
"I am told," interrupted Mrs. Dareville, "this is the very
vase in which B, the nabob's father, who was, you know, a
China captain, smuggled his dear little Chinese wife and all her
fortune out of Canton; positively, actually put the lid on, packed
her up, and sent her off on shipboard! True!-true! upon my
veracity! I'll tell you my authority."
With this story Mrs. Dareville drew all attention from the
jar, to Lady Clonbrony's infinite mortification.
Lady Langdale at length turned to look at a vast range of
china jars.
“Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves!" exclaimed Mrs. Dareville.
"I hope you have boiling oil ready!"
Lady Clonbrony was obliged to laugh, and to vow that Mrs.
Dareville was uncommon pleasant to-night. "But now," said
her ladyship, "let me take you to the Turkish tent."
Having with great difficulty got the malicious wit out of the
pagoda and into the Turkish tent, Lady Clonbrony began to
breathe more freely, for here she thought she was upon safe
ground. "Everything, I flatter myself," she said, "is correct
and appropriate, and quite picturesque." The company, dis-
persed in happy groups, or reposing on seraglio ottomans,
drinking lemonade and sherbet, beautiful Fatimas admiring or
being admired-"Everything here quite correct, appropriate, and
picturesque," repeated Mrs. Dareville.
This lady's powers as a mimic were extraordinary, and she
found them irresistible. Hitherto she had imitated Lady Clan.
1 F
THE ABSENTEE.
97
brony's air and accent only behind her back; but having grown
bolder, she now ventured, in spite of Lady Langdale's warning
pinches, to mimic her kind hostess before her face, and to her
face. Now, whenever Lady Clonbrony saw anything that struck
her fancy in the dress of her fashionable friends, she had a way
of hanging her head aside, and saying, with a peculiar senti-
mental drawl-
a
"How pretty! How elegant! Now that quite suits my
teeste!" This phrase, precisely in the same accent, and with
the head set to the same angle of affectation, Mrs. Dareville had
the assurance to address to her ladyship, apropos to something
which she pretended to adinire in Lady Clonbrony's costume-
costume which, although excessively fashionable in each of its
parts, was altogether so extraordinarily unbecoming as to be
fit for a print-shop. The perception of this, added to the effect
of Mrs. Dareville's mimicry, was almost too much for Lady
Langdale; she could not possibly have stood it but for the
appearance of Miss Nugent, who came at this instant behind
Lady Clonbrony. Grace gave one glauce of indignation, which
seemed suddenly to strike Mrs. Dareville. Silence for a mo-
ment ensued, and afterwards the tone of the conversation was
changed.
C
Salisbury, explain this to me," said a lady, drawing Mr.
Salisbury aside. "If you are in the secret, do explain this to
me, for unless I had seen it I could not have believed it. Nay,
though I have seen it, I do not believe it. How was that daring
spirit laid? By what spell?"
66
By the spell which superior minds always cast on inferior
spirits."
66
Very fine," said the lady, laughing; "but as old as the days
of Leonora de Galigai, quoted a million times. Now tell me
something new and to the purpose, and better suited to modern
days."
LC
Well, then, since you will not allow me to talk of superior
minds in the present days, let me ask you if you have never ob-
served that a wit, once conquered in company by a wit of higher
order, is thenceforward in complete subjection to the conqueror
whenever and wherever they meet."
"You would not pursuade me that yonder gentle-looking girl
could ever be a match for the veteran Mrs. Dareville? She may
have the wit, but has she the courage ?
""
(6
Yes; no one has more courage, more civil courage, where
her own dignity or the interests of her friends are concerned.
I will tell you an instance or two to-morrow."
1
To-morrow! To-night! Tell it me now.”
"Not a safe place-
"The safest in the world, in such a crowd as this. Follow
رو
D
*
!
1
►
:
98
STORIES OF IRELAND.
my example. Take a glass of orgeat; sip from time to time
thus; speak low, looking innocent all the while straightforward,
or now and then look up at the lamps; keep on in an even tone,
use no names, and you may tell anything.
"
"Well, then, when Miss Nugent first came to London, Lady
Langdale-
""
"Two names already; did I not warn ye ?"
"But how can I make myself intelligible?"
"Can't you use initials or genealogy? What hinders you?
It is only Lord Colambre-a very safe person, I have a notion,
when the eulogium is of Miss Nugent.
Lord Colambre, who had now performed his arduous duties
as a dancer, and had disembarrassed himself of all his part-
ners, came into the Turkish tent just at this moment to refresh
himself, and just in time to hear Mr. Salisbury's anecdotes.
"Now go on."
(6
Lady Langdale, you know, sets an inordinate value upon
her courtesies in public, and she used to treat Miss Nugent
as her ladyship treats many other people, sometimes noticing
and sometimes pretending not to know her, according to the
company she happened to be with. One day they met in some
fine company. Lady Langdale looked as if she was afraid
of committing herself by a curtsey. Miss Nugent waited for a
good opportunity, and when all the world was silent, leant
forward and called to Lady Langdale, as if she had some-
thing to communicate of the greatest consequence, screening
her whisper with her hand, as in an aside on the stage,
Lady Langdale, you may curtsey to me now; nobody is
looking.'"
"the only
(
"The retort courteous!" said Lord Colambre;
retort for a woman."
(3
And her ladyship deserved it so well. But Mrs. Dareville,
what happened about her ?"
"Mrs. Dareville, you remember, some years ago, went to
Ireland with some lady-lieutenant, to whom she was related.
There she was most hospitably received by Lord and Lady
Clonbrony, went to their country house, was as intimate with
Lady Clonbrony and with Miss Nugent as possible, stayed at
Clonbrony Castle for a month; and yet, when Lady Clonbrony
came to London never took the least notice of her.
At last,
meeting at the house of a common friend, Mrs. Dareville
could not avoid recognising her ladyship, but did it even then
in the least civil manner and most cursory style possible. 'Ho!
Lady Clonbrony! Didn't know you were in England! When
did you come ? How long shall you stay in town? Hope
before you leave England, your ladyship and Miss Nugent
will give us a day?' A day!
A day! Lady Clonbrony was so
THE ABSENTEE.
99
astonished by this impudence of ingratitude that she hesitated
how to take it; but Miss Nugent, quite coolly, and with a
smile, answered, 'A day! Certainly, to you, who gave us a
month!'
199
"Admirable! Now I comprehend perfectly why Mrs. Dare-
ville declines insulting Miss Nugent's friends in her presence."
Lord Colambre said nothing, but thought much. How I
wish my mother," thought he, "bad some of Grace Nugent's
proper pride! She would not then waste her fortune, spirits,
health, and life in courting such people as these.'
He had not seen, he could not have borne to have beheld,
the manner in which his mother had been treated by some of
her guests; but he observed that she now looked harassed and
vexed, and he was provoked and mortified by hearing her begging
and beseeching some of these saucy leaders of the ton to oblige
her, to do her the favour, to do her the honour to stay to supper
-it was just ready, actually announced. "No, they would not;
they could not; they were obliged to run away-engaged to the
Duchess of Torcaster.'
}
{"
"Lord Colambre, what is the matter?" said Miss Nugent,
going up to him as he stood aloof and indignant. "Don't look
so like a chafed lion; others may perhaps read your countenance
as well as I do."
"None can read my mind so well,” replied he. "Oh! my dear
Grace!"
"Supper! supper!" cried she. "Your duty to your neigh-
bour, your hand to your partner."
Lady Catherine, as they went downstairs to supper, observed
that Miss Nugent had not been dancing, that she had kept quite
in the background all night.
"Those," said Lord Colambre, "who are contented in the
shade are the best able to bear the light; and I am not sur-
prised that one so interesting in the background should not
desire to be the foremost figure in the piece.'
The supper-room, fitted up at great expense, with scenery to
imitate Vauxhall, opened into a superb greenhouse lighted with
coloured lamps. A band of music at a distance, and every
delicacy, every luxury that could gratify the senses, appeared in
profusion. The company ate and drank, enjoyed themselves,
went away, and laughed at their hostess. Some, indeed, who
thought they had been neglected, were in too bad a humour to
laugh, but abused her in sober earnest; for Lady Clonbrony had
offended half, nay three-quarters, of her guests, by what they
termed her exclusive attention to those very leaders of the ton
from whom she had suffered so much, and who had made it
obvious to all that they thought they did her too much honour
in appearing at her gala. So ended the gala, for which she had
D 2
*
در
}
J
STORIES OF IRELAND.
lavished such sums, for which she had laboured so indefatigably,
and from which she had expected such triumph.
C
100
66
Colambre, bid the musicians stop; they are playing to empty
benches," said Lady Clonbrony. Grace, my dear, will you see
that these lamps are safely put out? I am so tired, so worn out,
I must go to bed. And I am sure I have caught cold, too!
What a nervous business it is to manage these things! I wonder
how one gets through it, or why one does it!"
CHAPTER IV.
LADY CLON BRONY was taken ill the day after her gala. She
had caught cold by standing, when much overheated, in a violent
draught of wind, paying her parting compliments to the Duke of
V, who thought her a bore, and wished her in heaven all the
time for keeping his horses standing. Her ladyship's illness was
severe and long; she was confined to her room for some weeks
by a rheumatic fever and an inflammation in her eyes. Every
day, when Lord Colambre went to see his mother he found Miss
Nugent in her apartment, and every hour he found fresh reason
to admire this charming girl. The affectionate tenderness, the
indefatigable patience, the strong attachment she showed for her
aunt, actually raised Lady Clonbrony in her son's opinion. He,
was persuaded she must surely have some good or great quali-
ties, or she could not have excited such strong affection. A few
foibles out of the question, such as her love of fine people, her
affectation of being English, and other affectations too tedious to
mention, Lady Clonbrony was really a good woman, had good
principles, moral and religious, and, selfishness not immediately
interfering, she was good-natured; and though her soul and
attention were so completely absorbed in the duties of acquaint-
anceship that she did not know it, she really had affections which
were concentrated upon a few near relations. She was extremely
fond and extremely proud of her son; next to her son, she was
fonder of her niece than of any other creature. She had received
Grace Nugent into her family when she was left an orphan, and
deserted by some of her other relations; she had bred her up
and had treated her with constant kindness. This kindness and
these obligations had raised the warmest gratitude in Miss
Nugent's heart; and it was the strong principle of gratitude
which rendered her capable of endurance and exertions seem-
ingly far above her strength. This young lady was not of a
robust appearance, though she now underwent extraordinary
ŕ
THE ABSENTEE.
fatigue. Her aunt could scarcely bear that she should leave her
for a moment: she could not close her eyes unless Grace sat up
with her many hours every night. Night after night she bore
this fatigue; and yet, with little sleep or rest, she preserved
her health-at least supported her spirits; and every morning,
when Lord Colambre came into his mother's room, he saw Miss
Nugent looking as blooming as if she had enjoyed the most
refreshing sleep. The bloom was, as he observed, not permanent;
it came and went with every emotion of her feeling heart; and
he soon learned to fancy her almost as handsome when she was
pale as when she had a colour. He had thought her beautiful
when he beheld her in all the radiance of light and with all the
advantages of dress at the gala, but he found her infinitely more
lovely and interesting now, when he saw her in a sick-room—a
half-darkened chamber, where often he could but just discern
her form or distinguish her, except by her graceful motion
as she passed, or when but for a moment a window-curtain
drawn aside let the sun shine upon her face or on her ample
tresses.
ΙΟΙ
Much must be allowed for an inflammation in the eyes and
something for a rheumatic fever; yet it may seem strange that
Lady Clonbrony should be so blind and deaf as neither to see
nor hear all this time; that, having lived so long in the world, it
should never have occurred to her that it was rather imprudent
to have a young lady-and such a young lady, not eighteen-
nursing her, when her son-and such a son, not one-and-twenty-
came to visit her daily. But so
But so it was: Lady Clonbrony knew
nothing of love. She had read of it, indeed, in novels, which
sometimes, for fashion's sake, she had looked at, and over which
she had been obliged to doze; but this was only love in books.
With love in real life she had never met; in the life she led how
should she? She had heard that it made young and even old
people do foolish things; but those were foolish people; and if
they were worse than foolish, why it was shocking, and nobody
visited them. But Lady Clonbrony had not, for her own part,
the slightest notion how people could be brought to this pass,
nor how anybody out of Bedlam could prefer, to a good house,
a decent equipage, and a proper establishment, what is called
love in a cottage. As to Colambre, she had too good an opinion
of his understanding-to say nothing of his duty to his family,
his pride, his rank, and his being her son-to let such an idea
cross her imagination. As to her niece: in the first place, she
was her niece, and first cousins should never marry, because
they form no new connections to strengthen the family interest
or raise its consequence. This doctrine her ladyship had re-
peated for years, so often and so dogmatically, that she con-
ceived it to be incontrovertible, and of as full force as any law of
}
1
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
the land, or as any moral or religious obligation. She would as
soon have suspected her niece of an intention of stealing her
diamond necklace as of purloining Colambre's heart or marry-
ing this heir of the house of Clonbrony.
Miss Nugent was so well apprised and so thoroughly convinced
of all this, that she never for one moment allowed herself to think
of Lord Colambre as a lover. Duty, honour, and gratitude-
gratitude, the strong feeling and principle of her mind-forbade
it. She had so prepared herself to consider him as a person
with whom she could not possibly be united, that, with perfect
ease and simplicity, she behaved towards him exactly as if he
was her brother; not in the equivocating sentimental romantic
style in which ladies talk of treating men as their brothers,
whom they are all the time secretly thinking of and endeavouring
to please as lovers; not using this phrase as a convenient
pretence, a safe mode of securing herself from suspicion or
scandal, and of enjoying the advantages of confidence and the
intimacy of friendship till the propitious moment when it should
be time to declare or avow the secret of the heart. No! This
young lady was quite above all double-dealing: she had no
mental reservation-no metaphysical subtleties; but, with plain,
unsophisticated morality, in good faith and simple truth, acted
as she professed, thought what she said, and was that which she
seemed to be.
102
As soon as Lady Clonbrony was able to see anybody her
niece sent to Mrs. Broadhurst, who was very intimate with the
family. She used to come frequently-almost every evening-
to sit with the invalid. Miss Broadhurst accompanied her
mother, for she did not like to go out with any other chaperon,
and it was disagreeable to spend her time alone at home, and
most agreeable to spend it with her friend Miss Nugent. In
this she had no design, and Miss Broadhurst had too lofty and
independent a spirit to stoop to coquetry. She thought that in
their interview at the gala she understood Lord Colambre, and
that he understood her; that he was not inclined to court her
for her fortune; that she would not be coutent with any suitor
who was not a lover. She was two or three years older than
Lord Colambre, perfectly aware of her want of beauty, yet with a
just sense of her own merit, and of what was becoming and due
to the dignity of her sex. This she trusted was visible in her
manners and established in Lord Colambre's mind, so that she
ran no risk of being misunderstood by him; and as to what the
rest of the world thought, she was so well used to hear weekly
and daily reports of her going to be married to fifty different
people, that she cared little for what was said on this subject.
Indeed, conscious of rectitude, and with an utter contempt for
mean and commonplace gossiping, she was, for a woman, and a
I
of Autot jouer del santion.
THE ABSENTEE.
103
young woman, rather too disdainful of the opinion of the world.
Mrs. Broadhurst, though her daughter had fully explained herself
respecting Lord Colambre before she began this course of visiting,
yet rejoiced that, even on this footing, there should be constant
intercourse between them. It was Mrs. Broadhurst's warmest
wish that her daughter should obtain rank and connect herself
with an ancient family. She was sensible that the young lady's
being older than the gentleman might be an obstacle, and very
sorry she was to find that her daughter had so imprudently, so
unnecessarily, declared her age. Still, she imagined that this
little obstacle might be overcome; much greater difficulties in
the marriage of inferior heiresses were daily conquered, and
thought nothing of. Then, as to the young lady's own senti-
ments, her mother knew them better than she did herself. She
understood her daughter's pride, that she dreaded to be made an
object of bargain and sale; but Mrs. Broadhurst, who, with all
her coarseness of mind, had rather a better notion of love
matters than Lady Clonbrony, perceived, from her daughter's
horror of being offered to Lord Colambre, that nothing ap-
proaching to an advance on the part of her family should be
made; that if Lord Colambre should himself advance, he would
stand a better chance of being accepted than any other of the
numerous persons who had yet aspired to the favour of this
heiress. The very circumstance of his having paid no court to
her at first operated in his favour; for it proved that he was not
mercenary, and that, whatever attention he might afterwards
show would be sincere and disinterested.
"And now let them but see one another in this easy, intimate
kind of way, and you will find, my dear Lady Clonbrony, things
will go on of their own accord all the better for our minding our
cards, and never minding anything else. I remember when I
was young; but let that pass. Let the young people see one
another, and manage their own affairs their own way; let them
be together, that's all I say. Ask half the men with whom you
are acquainted why they married, and their answer, if they
speak truth, will be, Because I met Miss Such-a-one at such a
place, and we were continually together.' Propinquity!-pro-
pinquity! as my father used to say; and he was married five
times, and twice to heiresses."
In consequence of this plan of leaving things to themselves,
every evening Lady Cloubrony made out her own little card-
table with Mrs. Broadhurst, and a Mr. and Miss Pratt, a brother
and sister, who were the most obliging, convenient neighbours
imaginable. From time to time, as Lady Clonbrony gathered
up her cards, she would direct an inquiring glance to the group
of young people at the other table; whilst the more prudent
Mrs. Broadhurst sat plump with her back to them, pursing up
}
1
104
STORIES OF IRELAND.
her lips and contracting her brows in token of deep calculation,
looking down, impenetrable, at her cards, never even noticing
Lady Clonbrony's glances, but inquiring from her partner, "How
many they were by honours?"
The young party generally consisted of Miss Broadhurst,
Lord Colambre, Miss Nugent, and her admirer Mr. Salisbury.
Mr. Salisbury was a middle-aged gentleman, very agreeable and
well-informed. He bad travelled; had seen a great deal of the
world; had lived in the best company; had acquired what is
called good tact; was full of anecdote-not mere gossiping anec-
dotes, that lead to nothing. Miss Nugent had always seen him
in large companies, where he was admired for his savoir vivre
and for his entertaining anecdotes, but where he had no oppor-
tunity of introducing any of the higher powers of his understand-
ing, or showing character. She found that Mr. Salisbury ap-
peared to her quite a different person when conversing with
Lord Colambre. Lord Colambre, with that ardent thirst for
knowledge which it is always agreeable to gratify, had an air
of openness and generositya frankness, a warmth of manner,
which, with good breeding, but with something beyond it and
superior to its established forms, irresistibly won the confidence
and attracted the affection of those with whom he conversed.
His manners were peculiarly agreeable to a person like Mr.
Salisbury, tired of the sameness and egotism of men of the
world.
Miss Nugent had seldom till now had the advantage of hearing
much conversation on literary subjects. In the life she had
been compelled to lead she had acquired accomplishments, had
exercised her understanding upon everything that passed before
her, and, from circumstances, had formed her judgment and her
taste by observations on real life; but the ample page of know-
ledge had never been uurolled to her eyes. She had never hal
opportunities of acquiring literature herself, but she admired it
in others, particularly in her friend Miss Broadhurst. Miss
Broadhurst had received all the advantages of education which
money could procure, and had profited by them in a manner
uncommon among those for whom they are purchased in such
abundance. She not only had had many masters, and read
many books, but had thought of what she read, and had
supplied, by the strength and energy of her own mind, what
cannot be acquired by the assistance of masters. Miss Nugent,
perhaps overvaluing the information that she did not possess,
and free from all idea of envy, looked up to her friend as to a
superior being, with a sort of enthusiastic admiration; and now,
with charmed attention," listened by turns to her, to Mr.
Salisbury, and to Lord Colambre, whilst they conversed on
literary subjects. Indeed, she listened with a countenance so
"C
}
핼
​!
}
105
full of intelligence, of animation, so expressive of every good and
kind affection, that the gentlemen did not always know what
they were saying.
เ
Pray go on," she said once to Mr. Salisbury; "you stop,
perhaps, from politeness to me-from compassion to my iguo-
rance; but though I am ignorant, you do not tire me, I assure
you. Did you ever condescend to read the Arabian Tales ?
Like him whose eyes were touched by the magical application
from the dervise, I am enabled at once to see the riches of a new
world. O how unlike, how superior to that in which 1 have
lived-the great world, as it is called."
Lord Colambre brought down a beautiful edition of the
Arabian Tales, looked for the story to which Miss Nugent had
alluded, and showed it to Miss Broadhurst, who was also search-
ing for it in another volume.
་
THE ABSENTEE.
Lady Clonbrony, from her card-table, saw the young people
thus engaged. "I profess not to understand these things so well
as you say you do, my dear Mrs. Broadhurst," she whispered;
CC
but look there, now; they are at their books! What do you
expect can come of that sort of thing? So ill-bred, and down-
right rude of Colambre; I must give him a hint.”
66
No, no, for mercy's sake! my dear Lady Clonbrony, no
hints, no hints, no remarks! What would you have? She
is reading, and my lord at the back of her chair, leaning over—
and allowed, mind, to lean over, to read the same thing. Can't
be better! Never saw any man yet allowed to come so near
her! Now, Lady Clonbrony, not a word, not a look, I
beseech-
در
P
"Well, well! but if they had a little music-
"C
'My daughter's tired of music. How much do I owe your
ladyship now? three rubbers, I think. Now, though you would
not believe it of a young girl," continued Mrs. Broadhurst, “I
can assure your ladyship my daughter would often rather go to
a book than a ball."
$5
"5
Well, now, that's very extraordinary, in the style in which
she has been brought up; yet books, and all that, are so fashion-
able now, that it's very natural," said Lady Clonbrony.
About this time, Mr. Berryl, Lord Colambre's Cambridge
friend, for whom his lordship had fought the battle of the cur-
ricle with Mordicai, came to town. Lord Colambre introduced
him to his mother, by whom he was graciously received; for
Mr. Berryl was a young gentleman of good figure, good address,
good family, heir to a good fortune, and was in every respect a
fit match for Miss Nugent. Lady Clonbrony thought that it
would be wise to secure him for her niece before he should
make his appearance in the London world, where mothers and
daughters would soon make him feel his own consequence.
*
106
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Mr. Berryl, as Lord Colambre's intimate friend, was admitted
to the private evening parties at Lady Clonbrony's, and he
helped to render them still more agreeable. His information,
his habits of thinking, and his views, were all totally different
from Mr. Salisbury's; and their collision continually struck out
that sparkling novelty which pleases peculiarly in conversation.
Mr. Berryl's education, disposition, and tastes, fitted him exactly
for the station which he was destined to fill in society-that of a
country gentleman; not meaning, by that expression, a mere
eating, drinking, hunting, shooting, ignorant country squire of
the old race, which is now nearly extinct; but a cultivated,
enlightened, independent English country gentleman—the hap-
piest, perhaps, of human beings. On the comparative felicity of
the town and country life-on the dignity, utility, elegance, and
interesting nature of their different occupations, and general
scheme of passing their time, Mr. Berryl and Mr. Salisbury
had one evening a playful, entertaining, and perhaps instruc-
tive conversation; each party at the end remaining, as frequently
happens, of their own opinion. It was observed that Miss
Broadhurst ably and warmly defended Mr. Berryl's side of the
question; and in their views, plans, and estimates of life there
appeared a remarkable and, as Lord Colambre thought, a happy
coincidence. When she was at last called upon to give her decisive
Judgment between a town and a country life, she declared
that "if she were condemned to the extremes of either, she
should prefer a country life as much as she should prefer
Robinson Crusoe's diary to the journal of the idle man in the
Spectator."
“Lord bless me! Mrs. Broadhurst, do you hear what your-
daughter is saying?" cried Lady Clonbrony, who from the
card-table lent an attentive ear to all that was going forward.
"Is it possible that Miss Broadhurst, with her fortune, and
pretensions, and sense, can really be serious in saying she would
be content to live in the country ?"
"C
What's that you say, child, about living in the country?
said Mrs. Broadhurst.
99
Miss Broadhurst repeated what she had said.
16
"Girls always think so who have lived in town," said Mrs.
Broadhurst. They are always dreaming of sheep and sheep-
hooks, but the first winter in the country cures them; a shep-
herdess in winter is a sad and sorry sort of personage, except at
a masquerade.
""
Colambre," said Lady Clonbrony, "I am sure Miss Broad-
hurst's sentiments about town life, and all that, must delight
you. For do you know, ma'am "-these words were addressed
to Mrs. Broadhurst-"he is always trying to persuade me to give
up living in town? Colambre and Miss Broadhurst perfectly
agrec.
!
·
X
{
THE ABSENTEE.
"Mind your cards, my dear Lady Clonbrony," interrupted
Mrs. Broadhurst, "in pity to your partner. Mr. Pratt has cer-
tainly the patience of Job. Your ladyship has revoked twice
"
this hand.'
107
Lady Clonbrony begged a thousand pardons, fixed her eyes,
and endeavoured to fix her mind on the cards; but there
was something said at the other end of the room about an
estate in Cambridgeshire which soon distracted her attention
again. Mr. Pratt certainly had the patience of Job. She revoked,
and lost the game, though they were four by honours.
As soon as she rose from the card-table, and could speak to
Mrs. Broadhurst apart, she communicated her apprehensions.
66
Seriously, my dear madam," she said. "I believe I have
done very wrong to admit Mr. Berryl just now, though it was
on Grace's account I did it. But I did not know that Miss
Broadhurst had an estate in Cambridgeshire; their two estates
just close to one another, I heard them say. Lord bless me,
ma'am! there's the danger of propinquity indeed."
"No danger, no danger," persisted Mrs. Broadhurst. "I
know my girl better than you do, begging your ladyship's
pardon. No one thinks less of estates than she does.'
"Well, I only know I heard her talking of them, and earnestly
too."
"C
'Yes, very likely. But don't you know that girls never
think of what they are talking about, or rather never talk of
what they are thinking about? And they have always ten
times more to say to the man they don't care for, than to him
they do."
(6
Very extraordinary!" said Lady Clonbrony; "I only hope
you are right.”
"I am sure of it," said Mrs. Broadhurst. "Only let things
go on, and mind your cards, I beseech you, to-morrow night,
better than you did to-night, and you will see that things will
tun out just as I prophesied. Lord Colambre will come to a
point-blank proposal before the end of the week, and will be
accepted, or my name's not Broadhurst. Why, in plain English,
I am clear my girl likes him; and when that's the case, you know,
can you doubt how the thing will end ? "
Mrs. Broadhurst was perfectly right in every point of her
reasoning but one. From long habit of seeing and considering
that such an heiress as her daughter might marry whom she
pleased-from constantly seeing that she was the person to
decide and to reject, Mrs. Broadhurst had literally taken it for
granted that everything was to depend upon her daughter's
inclinations. She was not mistaken, in the present case, in
opining that the young lady would not be averse to Lord
Colambre, if he came to what she called a point-blank proposal.
#
$
:
L
IOS
STORIES OF IRELAND.
It really never occurred to Mrs. Broadhurst that any man
whom her daughter was the least inclined to favour could think
of anybody else. Quick-sighted in these affairs as the matron
thought herself, she saw but one side of the question; blind and
dull of comprehension as she thought Lady Clonbrony on this
subject, Mrs. Broadhurst was herself so completely blinded by
her own prejudices as to be incapable of discerning the plain
thing that was before her eyes-videlicet, that Lord Colambre
preferred Grace Nugent. Lord Colambre made no proposal
before the end of the week; but this Mrs. Broadhurst attri-
buted to an unexpected occurrence, which prevented things
from going on in the train in which they had been proceeding
so smoothly. Sir John Berryl, Mr. Berryl's father, was suddenly
seized with a dangerous illness. The news was brought to
Mr. Berryl one evening whilst he was at Lady Clonbrony's.
The circumstances of domestic distress which afterwards
occurred in the family of his friend entirely occupied Lord
Colambre's time and attention. All thoughts of love were sus-
pended, and his whole mind was given up to the active services
of friendship. The sudden illness of Sir John Berryl spread
an alarm among his creditors, which brought to light at once
the disorder of his affairs, of which his son had no knowledge
or suspicion. Lady Berryl had been a very expensive woman,
especially in equipages; and Mordicai, the coachmaker, ap-
peared at this time the foremost and the most inexorable of
their creditors. Conscious that the charges in his account
were exorbitant, and that they would not be allowed if examined
by a court of justice; that it was a debt which only ignorance
and extravagance could have in the first instance incurred,
swelled afterwards to an amazing amount by interest, and
interest upon interest; Mordicai was impatient to obtain pay-
ment whilst Sir John yet lived, or at least to obtain legal
security for the whole sum from the heir. Mr. Berryl offered
his bond for the amount of the reasonable charges in his
account, but this Mordicai absolutely refused, declaring that
now he had the power in his own hands he would use it to ob-
tain the utmost penny of his debt; that he would not let the
thing slip through his fingers; that a debtor never yet escaped
him, and never should; that a man lying upon his deathbed
was no excuse to a creditor; that he was not going to stand
upon ceremony about disturbing a gentleman in his last
moments; that he was not to be cheated out of his due by such
niceties; that he was prepared to go all lengths the law would
allow; for that, as to what people said of him, he did not care
a doit.
Cover your face with your hands, if you like it, Mr.
Berryl; you may be ashamed for me, but I feel no shame for
myself I am not so weak." Mordicai's countenance said more
(C
i
I
1
THE ABSENTEE.
109
than his words.
Livid with malice and with atrocious deter-
mination in his eyes, he stood. "Yes, sir," said he, "you may
look at me as you please; it is possible I am in earnest. Con-
sult what you'll do now, behind my back or before my face, it
comes to the same thing; for nothing will do but my money or
your bond, Mr. Berryl. The arrest is made on the person of
your father, luckily made while the breath is still in the body.
Yes; start forward to strike me, if you dare. Your father,
Sir John Berryl, sick or well, is my prisoner."
Lady Berryl and Mr. Berryl's sisters, in an agony of grief,
rushed into the room.
(6
"It's all useless,” cried Mordicai, turning his back upon the
ladies. These tricks upon creditors won't do with me; I'm
used to these scenes; I'm not made of such stuff as you think.
Leave a gentleman in peace in his last moments. No! he ought
not nor shall not die in peace, if he don't pay his debts; and if
you are all so mighty sorry, ladies, there's the gentleman you
may kneel to; if tenderness is the order of the day, it's for the
son to show it, not me. Ay, now, Mr. Berryl," cried he, as
Mr. Berryl took up the bond to sign it; "you're beginning to
know I'm not a fool, to be trifled with. Stop your hand if you
choose it, sir; it's all the same to me; the person or the money
I'll carry with me out of this house."
Mr. Berryl signed the bond, and threw it to him.
C
There, monster, quit the house!”
"Monster is not actionable. I wish you had called me knave,”
said Mordicai, grinning a horrible smile, and taking up the bond
deliberately, returned it to Mr. Berryl; "this paper is worth
nothing to me, sir; it is not witnessed."
Mr. Berryl hastily left the room, and returned with Lord
Colambre. Mordicai changed countenance and grew pale for a
moment at sight of Lord Colambre.
Well, my lord, since it so happens, I am not sorry that
you should be witness to this paper," said he; "and indeed not
sorry that you should witness the whole proceeding, for I trust
I shall be able to explain to you my conduct."
-
"I do not come here, sir," interrupted Lord Colambre, "to
listen to any explanations of your conduct, which I perfectly
understand; I come to witness a bond for my friend Mr. Berryl,
if you think proper to extort from him such a bond."
"
I extort nothing, my lord. Mr. Berryl, it is quite a volun-
tary act, take notice, on your part; sign or not, witness or not,
as you please, gentlemen," said Mordicai, sticking his hands in
his pockets, and recovering his look of black and fixed deter-
mination.
"Witness it, witness it, my dear lord," said Mr. Berryl,
looking at his mother and weeping sisters. "Witness it,
quick!
لي
IIO
STORIES OF IRELAND.
'Mr. Berryl must just run over his name again in your pre-
sence, my lord, with a dry pen," said Mordicai, putting the pen
into Mr. Berryl's hand.
"No, sir," said Lord Colambre; "my friend shall never
sign it."
CC
リ
​As you please, my lord. The bond or the body, before I quit
this house," said Mordicai.
"Neither, sir, shall you have, and you quit this house
directly."
"How-how-my lord-how's this?
Sir, the arrest you have made is as illegal as it is inhuman."
Illegal, my lord!" said Mordicai, startled.
"Illegal, sir. I came into this house at the moment when your
bailiff asked and was refused admittance. Afterwards, in the
confusion of the family above-stairs, he forced open the house-
door with an iron bar; I saw him; I am ready to give evidence
of the fact. Now proceed at your peril."
"C
Mordicai, without reply, snatched up his hat, and walked
towards the door; but Lord Colambre held the door open.
Mordicai, seeing his indignant look and proud form, hesitated
to pass, for he had always heard that Irishmen are "quick in
the executive part of justice.'
"Pass on, sir," repeated Lord Colambre, with an air of
ineffable contempt. "I am a gentleman; you have nothing to
fear."
""
ور
Mordicai ran downstairs. Lord Colambre, before he went
back into the room, waited to see both the master and his bailiff
out of the house. When Mordicai was fairly at the bottom of
the stairs, he turned, and, white with rage, looked up at Lord
Colambre.
("
"Charity begins at home, my lord," said he. "Look at home.
You shall pay for this," added he, standing half-shielded by the
house-door, for Lord Colambre moved forward as he spoke the
last words. “And I give you this warning because I know it
will be of no use to you. Your most obedient, my lord."
The house-door was closed after Mordicai.
1
"Thank heaven!" thought Lord Colambre, "that I did not
horsewhip that mean wretch! This warning shall be of use
to me; but it is not time to think of that yet."
Lord Colambre turned from his own affairs to those of his
friend, to offer all the assistance and consolation in his power.
Sir John Berryl died that night. His daughters, who had lived
in the highest style in London, were left totally unprovided for.
His widow had mortgaged her jointure. Mr. Berryl had an
estate now left to him, but without any income. He could not
be so dishonest as to refuse to pay his father's just debts; he
could not let his mother and sisters starve. The scene of dis-
•
་
..
THE ABSENTEE.
tress to which Lord Colambre was witness in this family made
a still greater impression upon him than had been made by the
warnings or the threats of Mordicai. The similarity between the
circumstances of his friend's family and of his own struck him
forcibly.
All this evil had arisen from Lady Berryl's passion for living
in London and at watering-places. She had made her husband
an Absentee an absentee from his home, his affairs, his duties,
and his estate. The sea, the Irish Channel, did not indeed flow
between him and his estate; but it was of little importance
whether the separation was effected by land or water; the conse-
quences, the negligence, the extravagance, were the same.
""
Of the few people of his age who are capable of profiting by
the experience of others, Lord Colambre was one: "Experience,
as an elegant writer has observed, "is an article that may be
borrowed with safety, and is often dearly bought."
III
CHAPTER V.
IN the meantime, Lady Clonbrony had been occupied with
thoughts very different from those which passed in the mind of
her son. Though she had never completely recovered from her
rheumatic pains, she had become inordinately impatient of con-
finement to her own house, and weary of those dull evenings at
home which had in her son's absence become insupportable.
She told over her visiting-tickets regularly twice a day, and gave
to every card of invitation a heartfelt sigh. Miss Pratt alarmed
her ladyship by bringing intelligence of some parties given by
persons of consequence to which she was not invited. She feared
that she should be forgotten in the world, well knowing how
soon the world forgets those they do not see every day and every-
where. How miserable is the fine lady's lot who cannot forget
the world, and who is forgotten by the world in a moment! How
much more miserable still is the condition of a would-be fine
lady, working her way up in the world with care and pains!
By her the slightest failure of attention from persons of rank
and fashion is marked and felt with a jealous anxiety, and with
a sense of mortification the most acute. An invitation omitted
is a matter of the most serious consequence, not only as it regards
the present, but the future; if she be not invited by Lady A.
it will lower her in the eyes of Lady B. and of all the ladies of
the alphabet; it will form a precedent of the most dangerous
and inevitable application. If she receive nine invitations, and
the tenth be wanting, the nine have no power to make her
!
}
}
112
STORIES OF IRELAND.
happy. This was precisely Lady Clonbrony's case; there was
to be a party at Lady St. James's, for which Lady Cloubrouy
had received no card.
}
"So ungrateful! so monstrous of Lady St. James! What!
was the gala so soon forgotten, and all the marked attentions
paid that night to Lady St. James? attentions, you know, Pratt,
which were looked upon with a jealous eye, and made me
enemies enough, I am told, in another quarter! Of all people, I
did not expect to be slighted by Lady St. James!"
Miss Pratt, who was ever ready to undertake the defence of
any person who had a title, pleaded, in mitigation of censure,
that perhaps Lady St. James might not be aware that her lady-
ship was yet well enough to venture out.
"Oh! my dear Miss Pratt, that cannot be the thing; for, in
spite of my rheumatism, which really was bad enough last
Sunday, I went on purpose to the Royal Chapel, to show myself
in the closet, and knelt close to her ladyship. And, my dear,
we bowed, and she congratulated me, after church, upon my
being abroad again, and was so happy to see me look so well
and all that. Oh! it is something very extraordinary and
unaccountable."
66
But I dare say a card will come yet," said Miss Pratt.
Upon this hint Lady Clonbrony's hope revived, and, staying
her anger, she began to consider how she could manage to get
herself invited. Refreshing tickets were left next morning at
Lady St. James's, with their corners properly turned up. In
order to do the thing better, separate tickets for herself and for
Miss Nugent were left for each member of the family; and her
civil messages, left with the footman, extended to the utmost
possibility of remainder. It had occurred to her ladyship that,
for Miss Somebody, the companion, of whom she had never in
her life thought before, she had omitted to leave a card last time,
and she now left a note of explanation. She further, with her
rheumatic head and arm out of the coach-window, sat, the wind
blowing keen upon her, explaining to the porter and the foot-
man to discover whether her former tickets had gone safely up
to Lady St. James; and on the present occasion, to make
assurance doubly sure, she slid handsome expedition money into
the servant's hand: Sir, you will be sure to remember." "O
certainly, your ladyship."
CC
She knew well what dire offence has frequently been taken,
what sad disasters have occurred, in the fashionable world, from
the neglect of a porter in delivering, or of a footman in carrying
up, one of those talismanic cards. But in spite of all her
manœuvres, no invitation to the party arrived next day. Pratt
was next set to work. Miss Pratt was a most convenient go-
between, who, in consequence of doing a thousand little services,
}
A
A
THE ABSENTEE.
113
to which few others of her rank in life would stoop, had obtained
the entrée to a number of great houses, and was behind the
scenes in many fashionable families. Pratt could find out, and
Pratt could hint, and Pratt could manage to get things done
cleverly-and hints were given, in all directions, to work round
to Lady St. James. But still they did not take effect. At last,
Pratt suggested that perhaps, though everything else had
failed, dried salmon might be tried with success. Lord Clonbrony
had just had some uncommonly good from Ireland, which Pratt
knew Lady St. James would like to have at her supper, because
a certain personage, whom she would not name, was particularly
fond of it. Wheel within wheel, in the fine world, as well as
in the political world! Bribes for all occasions, and for all
ranks. The timely present was sent, accepted with many thanks,
and understood as it was meant. Per favour of this propitiatory
offering, and of a promise of half a dozen pair of real Limerick
gloves to Miss Pratt--a promise which Pratt clearly compre-
hended to be a conditional promise-the grand object was at
length accomplished. The very day before the party was to
take place, came cards of invitation to Lady Clonbrony and to
Miss Nugent, with Lady St. James's apologies; her ladyship
was concerned to find that by some negligence of her servants,
these cards were not sent in proper time. 'How slight an
apology will do from some people," thought Miss Nugent; "how
eager to forgive, when it is for our interest or our pleasure;
how well people act the being deceived, even when all parties
know that they see the whole truth; and how low pride will
stoop to gain its object!"
Ashamed of the whole transaction, Miss Nugent earnestly
wished that a refusal should be sent, and reminded her aunt of
her rheumatism; but rheumatism and all other objections were
overruled; Lady Cloubrony would go. It was just when this
affair was thus, in her opinion, successfully settled that Lord
Colambre came in, with a countenance of unusual seriousness,
his mind full of the melancholy scenes he had witnessed in his
friend's family.
"What is the matter, Colambre?"
He related what had passed. He described the brutal con-
duct of Mordicai; the anguish of the mother and sisters; the
distress of Mr. Berryl. Tears rolled down Miss Nugent's cheeks.
Lady Clonbrony declared it was very shocking; listened with
attention to all the particulars, but never failed to correct her
son whenever he said Mr. Berryl.
“Sir Arthur Berryl, you mean.
She was, however, really touched with compassion, when he
spoke of Lady Berryl's destitute condition; and her son was
going on to repeat what Mordica had said to him, but Lady
Clonbrony interrupted-
$
pter
*
1 - HEA
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Oh! my dear Colambre! don't repeat that detestable man's
impertinent speeches to me. If there is anything really about
business, speak to your father. At any rate, don't tell us of it
now, because I've a hundred things to do," said her ladyship,
hurrying out of the room. "Grace, Grace Nugent! I want
you!'
114
Lord Colambre sighed deeply.
CC
Don't despair," said Miss Nugent, as she followed to obey
her aunt's summons. "Don't despair, don't attempt to speak to
her again till to-morrow morning. Her head is now full of Lady
St. James's party; when it is emptied of that, you will have a
better chance. Never despair."
"Never, while you encourage me to hope that any good can
be done."
Lady Cloubrony was particularly glad that she had carried.
her point about this party at Lady St. James's; because, from
the first private intimation that the Duchess of Torcaster was to
be there, her ladyship flattered herself that the long-desired in-
troduction might then be accomplished. But of this hope Lady
St. James had likewise received intimation from the double-
dealing Miss Pratt; and a warning note was despatched to the
duchess to let her grace know that circumstances had occurred,
which had rendered it impossible not to ask the Clonbronies. An
excuse, of course, for not going to this party, was sent by the
duchess. Her grace did not like large parties; she would have
the pleasure of accepting Lady St. James's invitation for her
select party, on Wednesday, the 10th. Into these select parties,
Lady Clonbrony had never been admitted. In return for her
great entertainments, she was invited to great entertainments, to
large parties; but farther she could never penetrate.
At Lady St. James's, and with her set, Lady Clonbrony
suffered a different kind of mortification from that which Lady
Langdale and Mrs. Dareville made her endure. She was safe
from the witty raillery, the sly innuendo, the insolent mimicry;
but she was kept at a cold, impassable distance, by ceremony.
"So far shalt thou go, and no farther," was expressed in every
look, in every word, and in a thousand different ways.
-
By the most punctilious respect and nice regard to precedency,
even by words of courtesy; "Your ladyship does me honour,"&c.;
Lady St. James contrived to mortify, and to mark the difference
between those with whom she was, and with whom she was not,
upon terms of intimacy and equality. Thus the ancient grandees
of Spain drew a line of demarcation between themselves and the
newly created nobility. Whenever or wherever they met, they
treated the new nobles with the utmost respect, never addressed
them but with all their titles, with low bows, and with all the
appearance of being, with the most perfect consideration, any-
"
¿^
THE ABSENTEE.
115
thing but their equals; whilst towards one another, the grandees
laid aside their state, and, omitting their titles, it was Alcalá
Medina-Sidonia-Infantado," and a freedom and familiarity,
which marked equality. Entrenched in etiquette in this manner,
and mocked with marks of respect, it was impossible either to
intrude or to complain of being excluded.
At supper, at Lady St. James's, Lady Clonbrony's present
was pronounced by some gentlemen to be remarkably high-
flavoured. This observation turned the conversation to Irish
commodities and Ireland. Lady Clonbrony, possessed by the
idea that it was disadvantageous to appear as an Irishwoman, or
as a favourer of Ireland, began to be embarrassed by Lady
St. James's repeated thanks. Had it been in her power to offer
anything else, with propriety, she would not have thought of
sending her ladyship anything from Ireland. Vexed by the ques-
tions that were asked her about her country, Lady Clon-
brony, as usual, declared it was not her country, and went on
to depreciate and abuse everything Irish; to declare that there
was no possibility of living in Ireland; and that, for her own
part, she was resolved never to return thither. Lady St.
James, preserving perfect silence, let her go on. Lady Clon-
brony, imagining that this silence arose from coincidence of
opinion, proceeded, with all the eloquence she possessed, which
was very little, repeating the same exclamations, and reiterat-
ing her vow of perpetual expatriation; till at last, an elderly
lady, who was a stranger to her, and whom she had till this
moment scarcely noticed, took up the defence of Ireland with
much warmth and energy. The eloquence with which sho
spoke, and the respect with which she was heard, astonished
Lady Clonbrony.
CC
"Who is she?" whispered her ladyship.
“Does not your ladyship know Lady Oranmore; the Irish
Lady Oranmore ?"
Lord bless me! what have I said! what have I done! Oh,
why did not you give me a hint, Lady St. James ?"
"I was not aware that your ladyship was not acquainted
with Lady Oranmore," replied Lady St. James, unmoved by
her distress.
Everybody sympathized with Lady Oranmore, and admired
the honest zeal with which she abided by her country, and
defended it against unjust aspersions and affected execrations.
Every one present enjoyed Lady Clonbrony's confusion except
Miss Nugent, who sat with her eyes bowed down by shame,
during the whole of this scene. She was glad that Lord Colambre
was not a witness of it, and comforted herself with the hope,
that, upon the whole, Lady Clonbrony would be benefited by the
pain she had felt. This instance might convince her that it was
1
F
2
§
{
"
1
116
STORIES OF IRELAND.
not necessary to deny her country to be received in any company
Xin England; and that those who have the courage and steadiness
to be themselves, and to support what they feel and believe to
be the truth, must command respect. Miss Nugent hoped that,
in consequence of this conviction, Lady Clonbrony would lay
aside the little affectations by which her manners were rendered
painfully constrained and ridiculous; and, above all, she hoped,
that what Lady Oranmore had said of Ireland might dispose
her aunt to listen with patience to all Lord Colambre might
urge in favour of returning to her home. But Miss Nugent
hoped in vain. Lady Clonbrony never in her life generalised
any observations, or drew any but a partial conclusion from the
most striking facts.
<<
Lord, my dear Grace!" she said, as soon as they were seated
in their carriage; "what a scrape I got into to-night at supper,
and what disgrace I came to! And all this because I did not
know Lady Oranmore. Now you see the inconceivable disad-
vantage of not knowing everybody. Everybody of a certain
rank, of course, I mean.
Miss Nugent endeavoured to slide in her own moral on the
occasion, but it would not do.
66
Yes, my dear, Lady Oranmore may talk in that kind of
style of Ireland, because, on the other hand, she is so highly
connected in England, and besides, she is an old lady, and may
take liberties; in short, she is Lady Oranmore, and that's
enough."
The next morning, when they all met at breakfast, Lady
Clonbrony complained bitterly of her increased rheumatism, of
the disagreeable, stupid party they had had the preceding night,
and of the necessity of going to another formal party to-morrow
night, and the next, and the next night, and, in the true fine-
lady style, deplored her situation, and the impossibility of avoid-
ing those things,
Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel.
Miss Nugent determined to retire, as soon as she could, from
the breakfast-room, to leave Lord Colambre an opportunity
of talking over his family affairs at liberty. She knew, by the.
seriousness of his countenance, that his mind was intent upon
doing so, and she hoped that his influence with his father and
mother would not be exerted in vain. But, just as she was
rising from the breakfast-table, in came Sir Terence O'Fay,
and, seating himself quite at his ease, in spite of Lady Clon-
brony's repulsive looks, his awe of Lord Colambre having now
worn off.
"I'm tired," said he, "and have a right to be tired, for it is
no small walk I've taken for the good of this noble family this
23
3
THE ABSENTEE.
117
morning. And, Miss Nugent, before I say more, I'll take a
cup of tay from you, if you please."
Lady Clonbrony rose, with great stateliness, and walked to
the farthest end of the room, where she established herself at
her writing-table, and began to write notes.
Sir Terence wiped his forehead deliberately.
Then I've had a fine run. Miss Nugent, I believe you never
saw me run; but I can run, I promise you, when it's to serve
a friend. And, my lord-(turning to Lord Clonbrony)—what
do you think I ran for this morning-to buy a bargain—and of
what?-a bargain of a bad debt-a debt of yours, which I bar-
gained for, and just in time. For, what do you think that rascal
was bringing upon you but an execution ?
"An execution!" repeated everybody present, except Lord
Colambre.
}
..
And how has this been prevented, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
"Oh! let me alone for that," said Sir Terence. I got a hint
from my little friend, Paddy Brady, who would not be paid for
it either, though he's as poor as a rat. Well, as soon as I got
the hint, I dropped the thing I had in my hand, which was the
Dublin Evening, and ran for the bare life-for there wasn't
a coach-in my slippers, as I was, to get into the prior creditor's
shoes, the little solicitor, that lives in Crutched Friars. Mordicai,
luckily, never dreamt of this, so he was very genteel, though he
was taken on a sudden, and from his breakfast, which an English-
man don't like particularly-I popped him a douceur of a
draught, at thirty-one days, on Garraghty, the agent, of which
he must get notice. I descant on the law before the ladies-he
handed me over his debt and execution, and he made me prior
creditor in a trice. Then I took coach in state, the first I met,
and away with me to Long Acre: saw Mordicai. Sir,' says I,
'I hear you're meditating an execution on a friend of mine."
'Am I?' said the rascal; who told you so?' 'No matter,' said
I. But I just called in to let you know there's no use in life of
your execution, for there's a prior creditor with his execution
to be satisfied first.' So he made a great many black faces, and
said a great deal which I never listened to, but came off here
clean to tell you all the story."
C
"Not one word of which do I understand," said Lady Clon-
brony.
66
Then, my dear, you are very ungrateful," said Lord Clon-
brony.
Lord Colambre said nothing, for he wished to learn more of
Sir Terence O'Fay's character, of the state of his father's affairs,
and of the family methods of proceeding in matters of business.
"Faith! Terry, I know I'm very thankful to you. But an
execution's an ugly thing; and I hope there's no danger-
>>
(
I
A
!
1
#op
118
Java)
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Never fear," said Sir Terence. "Haven't I been at my wit's
ends for myself or my friends ever since I came to man's
estate; to years of discretion I should say, for the deuce a foot
of estate have I. But use has sharpened my wits pretty well
for your service; so never be in dread, my good lord; for, look
ye!" cried the reckless knight, sticking his arms akimbo-
6.
look ye here! in Sir Terence O'Fay stands a host, that desires
no better than to encounter, single witted, all the duns in the
United Kingdoms, Mordicai the Jew inclusive.'
'Ah! that's the devil, that Mordicai," said Lord Clonbrony;
"that's the only man on earth I dread."
CC
Why, he's only a coachmaker, is he not?" said Lady Clon-
brony. "I can't think how you can talk, my lord, of dreading
such a low nian. Tell him, if he's troublesome, we won't be-
speak any more carriages; and, I'm sure, I wish you would not
be so silly, my lord, to employ him any more, when you know
he disappointed me the last birthday about the landau, which I
have not got yet."
"Nonsense, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony, "you don't know
what you are talking of—Terry, I say, even a friendly execution
is an ugly thing."
"Phoo! phoo! an ugly thing! So is a fit of the gout; but
one's all the better for it after. 'Tis just a renewal of life, my
lord, for which one must pay a bit of a fine, you know. Take
patience, and leave me to manage all properly. You know I'm
used to these things. Only you recollect, if you please, how I
managed my friend Lord - -; it's bad to be mentioning names,
but Lord everybody-knows-who. Didn't I bring him through
cleverly, when there was that rascally attempt to seize the
family plate? I had notice, and what did I do, but broke open
a partition between that lord's house and my lodgings, which I
had taken next door; and so, when the sheriff's officers were
searching below on the ground-floor, I just shoved the plate
easy through to my bedchamber at a moment's warning, and
then bid the gentlemen walk in, for they couldn't set a foot in
my Paradise, the devils! So they stood looking at it through
the wall, and cursing me, and I holding both my sides with
laughter at their fallen faces."
Sir Terence and Lord Clonbrony laughed in concert.
"This is a good story," said Miss Nugent, smiling;
"but, surely, Sir Terence, such things are never done in real
life ?
"Done! ay, are they, and I could tell you a hundred better
strokes, my dear Miss Nugent."
(6
Grace!" cried Lady Clonbrony, "do pray have the good-
ness to seal and send these notes; for really," whispered she, as
her niece came to the table, "I cawnt stee, I cawnt bear that
horrid man's vice, his accent grows horrider and horrider!"
wber
ANASA
↑
5
THE ABSENTEE.
119
Her ladyship rose and left the room.
(C
Why, then," continued Sir Terence, following Miss Nugent
to the table, where she was sealing letters; "I must tell you
how I sarved that same man, on another occasion, and got the
victory too."
No general officer could talk of his victories, or fight his
battles over again, with more complacency, than Sir Terence
O'Fay recounted his civil exploits.
،،
Now, I'll tell Miss Nugent. There was a footman in the
family, not an Irishman, but one of your powdered English
scoundrels, that ladies are so fond of having hanging to the
backs of their carriages; one Fleming he was, that turned spy,
and traitor, and informer, went privately and gave notice to the
creditors where the plate was hid in the thickness of the chim-
ney-but if he did, what happened? Why, I had my counter-
spy, an honest little Irish boy, in the creditor's shop, that I had
secured with a little douceur of usquebaugh; and he outwitted,
as was natural, the English lying valet, and gave us notice just
in the nick, and I got ready for their reception. Miss Nugent,
I only wish you'd seen the excellent sport we had, letting them
follow the scent they got; and when they were sure of their
game, what did they find? Ha! ha! ha!-dragged out, after a
world of labour, a heavy box of a load of brickbats; not an
item of my friend's plate, that was all snug in the coalhole, where
them dunces never thought of looking for it. Ha! ha! ha!"
V
Kaj
But come, Terry," cried Lord Clonbrony, "I'll pull down
your pride. How finely, another time, your job of the false
ceiling answered in the hall. I've heard that story, and have
been told how the sheriff's fellow thrust his bayonet up through
your false plaster, and down came tumbling the family plate.
Hey, Terry? That cost your friend, Lord everybody-knows-
who, more than your head's worth, Terry."
>>
?
"Í ask your pardon, my lord, it never cost him a farthing."
"When he paid £7,000 for the plate, to redeem it ?
"Well! and did not I make up for that at the races of
The creditors learned that my lord's horse, Naboclish, was to
run at
races; and as the sheriff's officer knew he dare not
touch him on the race-ground, what does he do, but he comes
down, early in the morning, on the mail-coach, and walks
straight down to the livery-stables. He had an exact descrip-
tion of the stables, and the stall, and the horse's body-clothes.
"I was there, seeing the horse taken care of; and, knowing
the cut of the fellow's jib, what does I do, but whips the body-
clothes off Naboclish, and claps them upon a garrone, that the
priest would not ride-
"In comes the bailiff; • Good morrow to you, sir,' says I,
leading out of the stable my lord's horse with an ould saddle and
bridle on;
}
t
$
t
I
"'
120
ކ
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Tim Neal,' says I to the groom, who was rubbing down the
garrone's heels, ' mind your hits to-day, and we'll wet the plate
to-night."
"Not so fast, neither,' says the bailiff; here's my writ for
seizing the horse.'
60 C
Och,' says I, 'you wouldn't be so cruel.'
"That's all my eye,' says he, seizing the garrone, while I
mounted Naboclish, and rode him off deliberately."
Ha ha ha! That was reat, I grant you, Terry," said Lord
Clonbrony; "but what a dolt of a born ignoramus must that
sheriff's fellow have been, not to know Naboclish when he saw
him!"
"But stay, my lord; stay, Miss Nugent. I have more for
you," following her wherever she moved; "I did not let him off
so, I bid and bid against them for the pretended Naboclish, till
I left him on their hands for 500 guineas. Ha! ha! ha! Was
not that famons ?"
66
But," said Miss Nugent, "I cannot believe you arc in
earnest, Sir Terence. Surely this would be-
"J
"What? Out with it, my dear Miss Nugent."
""
"I am afraid of offending you——
"You can't, my dear, I defy you--say the word that came to
the tongue's end, it is always the best.'
"I was going to say swindling," said the young lady, colour-
ing deeply.
Oh! you were going to say wrong then! It's not called
swindling amongst gentlemen, who know the world: it's only
jockeying-fine sport-and very honourable, to help a friend, at
a dead lift. Auything to get a friend out of a present diffi-
culty-
""
"And when the present difficulty is over, do your friends never
think of the future ?
""
"The future! leave the future to posterity," said Sir Terence;
I'm counsel only for the present, and when the evil comes it is
time enough to think of it; I can't bring the guns of my wits
to bear till the enemy's alongside of me, or within sight of me,
at the least. And besides, there never was a good commander
yet, by sea or land, that would tell his little expedients before-
hand, or before the very day of battle."
It must be a sad thing," said Miss Nugent, sighing deeply,
"to be reduced to live by little expedients; daily expedients-
Lord Colambre struck his forehead, but said nothing.
5)
“But if you are beating your brains about your own affairs,
my Lord Colambre, my dear," said Sir Terence,
"there's an
easy way of settling your family affairs at once; and, since you
don't like little daily expedients, Miss Nugent, there's one great
expedient, and an expedient for life, that will settle it all to your
}
120
ugla
THE ABSENTEE.
satisfaction and ours. I hinted it delicately to you before, but,
between friends delicacy is impertinent. So I tell you, in plain
English, you've nothing to do but go and propose yourself,
just as you stand, to the heiress Miss B-, that desires no
better
""
66
121
Sir!" cried Lord Colambre, stepping forward, red with
sudden anger. Miss Nugent laid her hand upon his arm
"Oh! my lord!"
"Sir Terence O'Fay," continued Lord Colambre, in a mode-
rated tone, “you are wrong to mention that young lady's name
in such a manner."
"C
Why, then, I said only Miss B——; and there are a whole
hive of bees. But I'll engage she'd thank me for what I sug-
gested, and think herself the queen-bee, if my expedient were
adopted by you."
Sir Terence," said his lordship, smiling, “if my father thinks
proper that you should manage his affairs, and devise expedients
for him, I have nothing to say on that point; but I must beg
you will not trouble yourself to suggest expedients for me, and
that you will have the goodness to leave me to settle my own
affairs.
""
Sir Terence made a low bow, and was silent for five seconds;
then turning to Lord Clonbrony, who looked much more abashed
than he did:
66
By the wise one, my good lord, I believe there are some
men-noblemen too-that don't know their friends from their
enemies. It is my firm persuasion now, that if I had served you
as I served my friend I was talking of, your son there would,
ten to one, think I had done him an injury by saving the family
plate."
"I certainly should, sir. The family plate is not the first
object in my mind," replied Lord Colambre; "family honour-
Nay, Miss Nugent, 1 must speak," continued his lordship, per-
ceiving by her countenance that she was alarmed.
CC
"I'm as
Never fear, Miss Nugent, dear," said Sir Terence;
cool as a cucumber. Faith, then, my Lord Colambre, I agree
with you that family honour's. a mighty fine thing, only trouble-
some to one's self and one's friends, and expensive to keep up,
with all the other expenses and debts a gentleman has nowa-
days. So I, that am under no natural obligations to it, by birth
or otherwise, have just stood by through life, and asked myself,
before I would volunteer being bound to it, what could this same
family honour do for a man in this world? And first and fore-
most, I never remember to have seen family honour stand a man
in much stead in a court of law; never to have seen family
honour stand against an execution, or a custodiam, or an injunc-
tion even.
'Tis a rare thing, this same family honour, and a very
다
​E
ދ ރޮ
my
| 1
*
تم ہو
多
​}
122
STORIES OF IRELAND.
fine thing; but I never knew it yet, at a pinch, pay even for a
pair of boots," added Sir Terence, drawing up his own with
much complacency.
At this moment Sir Terence was called out of the room by
one who wanted to speak to him on particular business.
"My dear father, cried Lord Colambre, "do not follow
him stay for one moment and hear your son, your true
friend."
means
CC
Miss Nugent left the father and son together.
"Hear your natural friend for one moment," cried Lord
Colambre. "Let me beseech you, father, not to have recourse
to any of these paltry expedients, but trust your son with
the state of your affairs, and we shall find some honourable
در
رو
Yes, yes, yes-very true; when you're of age, Colambre,
we'll talk of it; but nothing can be done till then. We shall get
on-we shall get through very well till then, with Terry's assist-
ance. And I must beg you will not say a word more against
Terry; I can't bear it; I can't do without him. Pray, don't
detain me.
I can say no more-except," added he, returning to
his usual concluding sentence, "that there need, at all events, be
none of this, if people would but live upon their own estates, and
kill their own mutton." He stole out of the room, glad to escape,
however shabbily, from present explanation and present pain.
There are persons without resource, who in difficulties return
always to the same point, and usually to the same words.
While Lord Colambre was walking up and down the room,
much vexed and disappointed at finding that he could make no
impression on his father's mind, nor obtain his confidence, Lady
Clonbrony's woman, Mrs. Petito, knocked at the door, with a
message from her lady, to beg, if Lord Colambre was by himself,
he would go to her dressing-room, as she wished to have a con-
ference with him. He obeyed her summons.
"Sit down, my dear Colambre." And she began precisely.
with her old sentence:
"With the fortune I brought your father, and with my lord's
estate, I cawnt understand the meaning of all these pecuniary
difficulties; and all that strange creature Sir Terence says is
algebra to me, who speak English. And I am particularly sorry
he was let in this morning; but he's such a brute that he does
not think anything of forcing one's door; and he tells my foot-
man he docs not mind "not at home a pinch of snuff. Now,
what can you do with a man who could say that sort of thing,
you know? The world's at an end!
""
""
"I wish my father had nothing to do with him, as much as
you can wish it," said Lord Colambre; "but I have said all that
a son can say, and without effect."
}
*
1
IN
THE ABSENTEE.
123
"What particularly provokes me against him," continued
Lady Clonbrony, "is what I have just heard from Grace, who
was really hurt by it too, for she is the warmest friend in the
world. I allude to the creature's indelicate way of touching
upon a tender pint, and mentioning an amiable young heiress's
name. My dear Colambre, I trust you have given me credit for
my inviolable silence, all this time, upon the pint nearest my
heart. I am rejoiced to hear you was so warm when she was
mentioned inadvertently by that brute; and I trust you now see
the advantages of the projected union in as strong and agreeable
a pint of view as I do, my own Colambre. I should leave things
to themselves, and let you prolong the dees of courtship as you
please, only for what I now hear incidentally, from my lord and
the brute, about pecuniary embarrassments and the necessity of
something being done before next winter. And indeed I think
now, in propriety, the proposal cannot be delayed much longer,
for the world begins to talk of the thing as done; and even Mrs.
Broadhurst, I know, had no doubt that if this contretemps about
the poor Berryls had not occurred, your proposal would have
been made before the end of last week."
Our hero was not a man to make a proposal because Mrs.
Broadhurst expected it, or to marry because the world said he
was going to be married. He steadily said that, from the first
moment the subject had been mentioned, he had explained him-
self distinctly; that the young lady's friends could not there-
fore be under any doubt as to his intentions; that if they
had voluntarily deceived themselves, or exposed the lady in
situations from which the world was led to make false conclusions,
he was not answerable. His conscience was at ease-entirely so,
as he was convinced that the young lady herself, for whose
merit, talents, independence, and generosity of character he pro-
fessed high respect, esteem, and admiration, had no doubt either
of the extent or the nature of his regard.
CC
Regard, respect, esteem, admiration!
Why, my dearest
Colambre! this is saying all I want; satisfies me, and I am sure
would satisfy Mrs. Broadhurst and Miss Broadhurst too."
No doubt it will, but not if I aspired to the honour of Miss
Broadhurst's hand, or professed myself her lover."
CC
'My dear, you are mistaken. Miss Broadhurst is too sen-
sible a girl, a vast deal, to look for love, and a dying lover, and
all that sort of stuff; I am persuaded-indeed I have it from
good, from the best authority-that the young lady-you know
one must be delicate in these cases, where a young lady of such
fortune, and no despicable family too, is concerned; therefore I
cannot speak quite plainly, but I say I have it from the best
authority that you would be preferred to any other suitor, and
in short that
""
узнать сна за памет
124
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you," cried Lord
Colambre, colouring a good deal; "but you must excuse me if
I say that the ouly authority on which I could believe this is
one from which I am morally certain I shall never hear it—
from Miss Broadhurst herself.
66
""
Lord, child! if you would only ask her the question she
would tell you it is truth, I dare say.
""
“But as I have no curiosity on the subject
"Lord bless me! I thought everybody had curiosity. But
still, without curiosity, I am sure it would gratify you when you
did hear it; and can't you just put the simple question ?"
66
'Impossible!"
Impossible! Now that is so very provoking, when the
thing is all but done. Well, take your own time; all I will ask
of you then is, to let things go on as you are going-smoothly
and pleasantly; and I'll not press you further on the subject at
present. Let things go on smoothly, that's all I ask, and say
nothing."
(C
""
"I wish I could oblige you, mother, but I cannot do this.
Since you tell me that the world and Miss Broadhurst's friends.
have already misunderstood my intentions, it becomes necessary,
in justice to the young lady and to myself, that I should make
all further doubt impossible. I shall therefore put an end to
it at once by leaving town to-morrow."
Lady Clonbrony, breathless for a moment with surprise,
exclaimed: "Bless me! leave town to-morrow! Just at the
beginning of the season! Impossible! I never saw such a pre-
cipitate, rash young man. But stay only a few weeks, Colambre;
the physicians advise Buxton for my rheumatism, and you shall
take us to Buxton early in the season-you cannot refuse me
that. Why, if Miss Broadhurst was a dragon, you could not
be in a greater hurry to run away from her. What are you
afraid of ? "
66
Of doing what is wrong-the only thing I trust of which I
shall ever be afraid."
Lady Clonbrony tried persuasion and argument—such argu-
ment as she could use-but all in vain; Lord Colambre was firm
in his resolution. At last she came to tears, and her sou, in much
agitation, said:
"I cannot bear this, mother! I would do anything you ask
that I could do with honour; but this is impossible.'
(3
Why impossible? I will take all blame upon myself; and
you are sure that Miss Broadhurst does not misunderstand you,
and you esteem her, and admire her, and all that. All I ask is,
that you'll go on as you are, and see more of her; and how do
you know but you may fall in love with her, as you call it, to-
morrow?"
""
THE ABSENTEE.
125
1
}
Because, nadam, since you press me so far, my affections
are engaged to another person. Do not look so dreadfully
shocked, my dear mother. I have told you truly that I think
myself too young, much too young, yet to marry. In the cir-
cumstances in which I know my family are placed it is probable
that I shall not for some years be able to marry as I wish.
You may depend upon it that I shall not take any step, I shall
not even declare my attachment to the object of my affection,
without your knowledge; and far from being inclined to follow
headlong my own passions-strong as they are-be assured
that the honour of my family, your happiness, my mother, my
father's, are my first objects. I shall never think of my own till
these are secured."
<s
Of the conclusion of this speech Lady Clonbrony heard only
the sound of the words. From the moment that her son had
pronounced that his affections were engaged she had been
running over in her head every probable and improbable per-
son she could think of. At last, suddenly starting up, she
opened one of the folding doors into the next apartment and
called:
"Grace! Grace Nugent! Put down your pencil, Grace, this
minute, and come here!"
Miss Nugent obeyed with her usual alacrity, and the moment
she entered the room, Lady Clonbrony, fixing her eyes full upon.
her, said:
"There's your cousin Colambre tells me his affections are
engaged."
Yes, to Miss Broadhurst no doubt," said Miss Nugent,
smiling with a simplicity and openness of countenance which
assured Lady Clonbrony that all was safe in that quarter. A
suspicion which had darted into her mind was thus dispelled
56
CC
No doubt. Ay, do you hear that-no doubt, Colambre ?
Grace, you see, has no doubt; nobody has any doubt but your-
self, Colambre.”
And are your affections engaged, and not to Miss Broad-
hurst?" said Miss Nugent, approaching Lord Colambre.
"There now! You see how you surprise and disappoint every-
body, Colambre."
"I am sorry that Miss Nugent should be disappointed," said
Lord Colambre.
CC
But because I am disappointed, pray do not call me Miss
Nugent, or turn away from me as if you were displeased."
"It must then be some Cambridgeshire lady," said Lady
Clonbrony. "I am sure I am very sorry he ever went to Cam-
bridge; Ŏxford I advised. One of the Miss Berryls, I presume,
who have nothing. I'll have no more to do with those Berryls.
There was the reason of the son's vast intimacy. Grace, you
may give up all thoughts of Sir Arthur."
}
#
126
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"I have no thoughts to give up, madam," said Miss Nugent,
smiling. "Miss Broadhurst," continued she, going on eagerly
with what she was saying to Lord Colambre-"Miss Broadhurst
is my friend, a friend I love and admire; but you will allow
that I strictly kept my promise, never to praise her to you
till you should begin to praise her to me. Now recollect, last
night you did praise her to me, so justly that I thought you
liked her, I confess; so that it is natural I should feel a little
disappointed. Now you know the whole of my mind. I have
no intention to encroach upon your confidence; therefore there
is no occasion to look so embarrassed. I give you my word I
will never speak to you again upon the subject," she said,
holding out her hand to him, "provided you will never again
call me Miss Nugent. Am I not your own cousin Grace ?
Do not be displeased with her."
"You are my own dear cousin Grace, and nothing can be
farther from my mind than any thought of being displeased with
her; especially just at this moment, when I am going away,
probably for a considerable time."
66
Away! When ?-where ? "
4
{
,
"To-morrow morning, for Ireland.”
"Ireland! of all places," cried Lady Clonbrony. 'What
upon earth puts it into your head to go to Ireland ? You do
very well to go out of the way of falling in love ridiculously,
since that is the reason of your going; but what put Ireland
into your head, child?"
"I will not presume to ask my mother what put Ireland out
of her head," said Lord Colambre, smiling; "but she will re-
collect that it is my native country."
"That was your father's fault, not mine," said Lady Clon-
brony, "for I wished to have been confined in England; but
he would have it to say that his son and heir was born at Clon-
brony Castle; and there was a great argument between him
and my uncle, and something about the Prince of Wales and
Carnarvon Castle was thrown in, and that turned the scale
much against my will; for it was my wish that my son should
be an Englishman born-like myself. But after all, I don't
see that having the misfortune to be born in a country should
tie one to it in any sort of way. I should have hoped your
English edication, Colambre, would have given you too liberal
idears for that. So I reely don't see why you should go to
Ireland merely because it's your native country.”
"Not merely because it is my native country, but I wish to
go thither. I desire to become acquainted with it, because it
is the country in which my father's property lies, and from
which we draw our subsistence."
"Subsistence! Lord bless me! what a word!-- fitter for a
:
<<
ری
THE ABSENTEE.
127
pauper than a nobleman. Subsistence! Then, if you are going
to look after your father's property, I hope you will make the
agents do their duty, and send us remittances. And pray, how
long do you mean to stay ?"
..
Till I am of age, madam, if you have no objection. I will
spend the ensuing months in travelling in Ireland, and I will
return here by the time I am of age, unless you and my father
should before that time be in Ireland."
"Not the least chance of that, if I can prevent it, I promise
you," said Lady Clonbrony.
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent sighed.
"And I am sure I shall take it very unkindly of you,
Colambre, if you go and turn out a partisan for Ireland, after
all, like Grace Nugent."
"A partisan! No; I hope not a partisan, but a friend," said
Miss Nugent.
66
Nonsense, child! I hate to hear people-women especially,
and young ladies particularly--talk of being friends to this
country or that country. What can they know about countries ?
Better think of being friends to themselves, and friends to their
friends."
"I was wrong," said Miss Nugent, "to call myself a friend to
Ireland; I meant to say that Ireland had been a friend to me;
that I found Irish friends when I had no other, an Irish home
when I had no other; that my earliest and happiest years, under
your kind care, had been spent there; and that I can never for-
get the, my dear aunt; I hope you do not wish that I should."
Fleuven forbid, my sweet Grace!" said Lady Clonbrony,
touched by her voice and manner. "Heaven forbid! I don't
wish you to do or be anything but what you are; for I am con-
vinced there's nothing I could ask you would not do for me;
and I can tell you there's few things you could ask, love, I
would not do for you."
A wish was instantly expressed in the eyes of her niece.
Lady Clonbrony, though not usually quick at interpreting the
wishes of others, understood and answered before she ventured
to make her request in words.
16
Ask anything but that, Grace. Return to Clonbrony while
I am able to live in London, that I never can or will do for you
or anybody!"-looking at her son in all the pride of obstinacy;
*C
so there is an end of the matter. Go you where you please,
Colambre, and I shall stay where I please. I suppose, as your
mother, I have a right to say as much ?"
Her son, with the utmost respect, assured her that he had no
design to infringe upon her undoubted liberty of judging for
herself; that he had never interfered, except so far as to tell
her circumstances of her affairs with which she seemed to be
f
}
0
},
}
128
STORIES OF IRELAND.
totally unacquainted, and of which it might be dangerous tc her
to continue in ignorance.
"Don't talk to me about affairs,” cried she, drawing her hand
away from her son; "talk to my lord, or my lord's agents,
since you are going to Ireland, about business. I know nothing
about business; but this I know, I shall stay in England, and be
in London every season, as long as I can afford it; and when I
cannot afford to live here, I hope I shall not live anywhere. That's
my notion of life, and that's my determination, once for all; for
if none of the rest of the Clonbrony family have any, I thank Hea-
ven I have some spirit." Saying this in her most stately manuer,
she walked out of the room. Lord Colambre instantly followed
her, for, after the resolution and the promise he had made, he
did not dare to trust himself at this moment with Miss Nugent.
There was to be a concert this night at Lady Clonbrony's, at
which Mrs. and Miss Broadhurst were of course expected. That
they might not be quite unprepared for the event of her son's´
going to Ireland, Lady Clonbrony wrote a note to Mrs. Broad-
hurst, begging her to come half-an-hour earlier than the time
mentioned in the cards, "that she might talk over something
particular that had just occurred."
What passed at this cabinet council, as it seems to have had
no immediate influence on affairs, we need not record. Suffice
it to observe that a great deal was said and nothing done.
Miss Broadhurst, however, was not a young lady who could
be easily deceived, even where her passions were concerned.
The moment her mother told her of Lord Colambre's intended
departure she saw the whole truth. She had a strong mind,
capable of looking steadily at truth. Surrounded, as she had
been from her childhood, by every means of self-indulgence
which wealth and flattery could bestow, she had discovered
early what few persons in her situation discover till late in life,
that selfish gratifications may render us incapable of other hap-
piness, but can never of themselves make us happy. Despising
flatterers, she had determined to make herself friends; to make
them in the only possible way, by deserving them. Her father
realized his immense fortune by the power and habit of constant,
bold, and just calculation. The power and habit which she had
learned from him she applied on a far larger scale. With him
it had been confined to speculations for the acquisition of
money; with her it extended to the attainment of happiness.
He was calculating and mercenary; she was estimable and
generous.
Miss Nugent was dressing for the concert, or rather was sit-
ting half-dressed before her glass, reflecting, when Miss Broad-
hurst came into her room. Miss Nugent immediately dismissed
her maid.
}
ན
}
3
;
((
C
THE ABSENTEE.
129
Grace,” said Miss Broadhurst, looking at Grace with an air
of open, deliberate composure, "you and I are thinking of the
same thing, of the same person.
"Yes-of Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent, ingenuously
and sorrowfully.
"Then I can put your mind at ease at once, my dear friend,
by assuring you that I shall think of him no more. That I have
thought of him I do not deny; I have thought that if, notwith-
standing the difference in our ages and other differences, he had
preferred me, I should have preferred him to any person who
ever yet addressed me. On our first acquaintance I clearly
saw that he was not disposed to pay court to my fortune, and I
had also then coolness of judgment sufficient to perceive that it
was not probable he should fall in love with my person. But I
was too proud in my humility, too strong in my honesty, too
brave. too ignorant; in short, I knew nothing of the matter. We
are all of us more or less subject to the delusions of vanity, or
hope, or love. I--even I, who thought myself so clear-sighted,
did not know how, with one flutter of his wings, Cupid can set
the whole atmosphere in motion; change the proportions, size,
colour, value, of every object; lead us into a mirage, and leave
us in a dismal desert."
64
My dearest friend," said Miss Nugent, in a tone of true
sympathy.
But none but a coward or a fool would sit down in the
desert and weep, instead of trying to make his way back before
the storm rises, obliterates the track, and overwhelms every-
thing. Poetry apart, my dear Grace, you may be assured that
I shall think no more of Lord Colambre.'
""
"I believe you are right. But I am sorry, very sorry, that it
must be so."
C
Oh, spare me your sorrow!"
""
'My sorrow is for Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent.
"Where will he find such a wife? Not in Miss Berryl, I am
sure, pretty as she is a mere fine lady! Is it possible that
Lord Colambre should prefer such a girl?
Miss Broadhurst looked at her friend as she spoke, and saw
-truth in her eyes; saw that she had no suspicion that she was
herself the person beloved.
"Tell me, Grace, are you sorry that Lord Colambre is going
away ?"
CC
No, I am glad. I was sorry when I first heard it; but now
I am glad, very glad; it may save him from a marriage unworthy
.of him, restore him to himself, and reserve him for-the
only woman I ever saw who is suited to him, who is equal to
him, who would value and love him as he deserves to be valued
and loved."
""
E
-
3
f
130
STORIES OF IRELAND.
26 Stop, my dear; if you mean me, I am not, and I never can
be, that woman. Therefore, as you are my friend and wish my
happiness, as I sincerely believe you do, never, I conjure you,
present such an idea before my mind again. It is out of my
mind, I hope, for ever. It is important to me that you should
know and believe this. At least I will preserve my friends.
Now let this subject never be mentioned or alluded to again
between us, my dear. We have subjects enough of conversation;
we need not have recourse to pernicious sentimental gossipings.
There is a great difference between wanting a confidante and
treating a friend with confidence. My confidence you possess;
all that ought, all that is to be known of my mind, you know,
and
Now I will leave you in peace to dress for the
-
concert."
"Oh, don't go; you don't interrupt me. I shall be dressed
in a few minutes; stay with me, and you may be assured that
neither now nor at any other time shall I ever speak to you on
the subject you desire me to avoid. I entirely agree with you
about confidantes and sentimental gossipings; I love you for
not loving them."
A loud knock at the door announced the arrival of company.
"Think no more of love, but as much as you please of admi-
ration; dress yourself as fast as you can," said Miss Broadhurst ;
dress, dress is the order of the day."
"Order of the day and order of the night, and all for people
I don't care for in the least," said Grace.
"So life passes.
"J
"Dear me, Miss Nugent," cried Petito, Lady Clonbrony's
woman, who at that moment entered with a face of alarm, "not
dressed yet! My lady is gone down, and Mrs. Broadhurst and
my Lady Pococke's come, and the Honourable Mrs. Trembleham,
and signor the Italian singing gentleman has been walking up
and down the apartments there by himself, disconsolate, this half-
hour, and I wondering all the time nobody rang for me. My lady
dressed, Lord knows how! without anybody's assistance. Oh,
merciful! Miss Nugent. if you could stand still for one single
particle of a second. So then I thought of stepping in to Miss
Nugent, for the young ladies are talking so fast, says I to myself
at the door, they will never know how time goes unless I give
'em a hint. But now my lady is below, there's no need, to be
sure, to be nervous; so we may take the thing quietly, without
being in a flustrum. Dear ladies, is not this now a very sudden
notion of our young lord's for Ireland ? Lud-a-mercy! Miss
Nugent, I'm sure your notions is sudden enough, and your dress
behind is all, I'm sure, I can't tell how."
፡፡
CC
Oh, never mind," said the young lady, escaping from her;
"it will do very well, thank you, Petito."
"It will do very well, never mind,” repeated Petito, muttering
!
{
✔
THE ABSENTEE.-
131
to herself as she looked after the ladies whilst they ran down-
stairs. "I can't abide to dress any young lady who says never
mind, and it will do very well. That, and her never talking to
one confidantially, or trusting one with the least bit of her
secrets, is the thing I can't put up with from Miss Nugent; and
Miss Broadhurst holding the pins to me, as much as to say, do
your business, Petito, and don't talk. Now, that's so imperti-
nent, as if one wasn't the same flesh and blood, and had not as
good a right to talk of everything, and hear of everything, as
themselves. And Mrs. Broadhurst, too, cabinet councilling
with my lady, and pursing up her City mouth, when I come in,
and turning off the discourse to snuff, forsooth, as if I was an
ignoramus, to think they closeted themselves to talk of snuff.
Now, I think a lady of quality's woman has as good a right to
be trusted with her lady's secrets as with her jewels; and if my
Lady Clonbrony was a real lady of quality, she'd know that, and
consider the one as much my paraphernalia as the other. So I
shall tell my lady to-night, as I always do when she vexes me,
that I never lived in an Irish family before, and don't know the
ways of it. Then she'll tell me she was born in Hoxfordshire:
then I shall say, with my saucy look, 'Oh, was you, my lady? I
always forget that you was an Englishwoman.' Then maybe
she'll say,Forget! you forget yourself strangely, Petito.'
Then I shall say, with a great deal of dignity, 'If your ladyship
thinks so, my lady, I'd better go.' And I'd desire no better
than that she would take me at my word, for my Lady Dash-
fort's is a much better place, I'm told, and she's dying to have
me, I know."
And having formed this resolution, Petito concluded her
apparently interminable soliloquy, and went with my lord's
gentleman into the antechamber to hear the concert, and give
her judgment on everything. As she peeped in through the
vista of heads into the Apollo saloon-for to-night the Alhambra
was transformed into the Apollo saloon-she saw that, whilst
the company, rank behind rank, in close semicircles, had crowded
round the performers, to hear a favourite singer, Miss Broad-
hurst and Lord Colambre were standing in the outer semicircle
talking to one another earnestly. Now would Petito have given
up her reversionary chance of the three nearly new gowns she
expected from Lady Clonbrony, in case she stayed, or, in case
she went, the reversionary chance of any dress of Lady Dash-
fort's, except her scarlet velvet, merely to hear what Miss
Broadhurst and Lord Colambre were saying. Alas! she could
only see their lips move, and of what they were talking, whether
of music or love, and whether the match was to be on or off, she
could only conjecture. But the diplomatic style having now
descended to waiting-maids, Mrs. Petito talked to her friends in
E 2
༔
132
STORIES OF IRELAND.
the antechamber with as mysterious and consequential an air
and tone as a charge d'affaires or as the lady of a charge
d'affaires could have assumed. She spoke of her "private
belief," of "the impression left upon her mind," and her "confi-
dantial" reasons for thinking as she did; of her "having had it
from the fountain's head," and of "her fear of any committal
of her authorities."
Notwithstanding all these authorities, Lord Colambre left
London the very next day, and pursued his way to Ireland,
determined that he would see and judge of that country for him-
self, and decide whether his mother's dislike to residing there
was founded on caprice or reasonable causes.
In the meantime it was reported in London that his lordship
was gone to Ireland to make out the title to some estate, which
would be necessary for his marriage settlement with the great
heiress, Miss Broadhurst. Whether Mrs. Petito or Sir Terence
O'Fay had the greater share in raising and spreading this report,
it would be difficult to determine; but it is certain, however or
by whomsoever raised, it was most useful to Lord Cloubrony in
keeping his creditors quiet.
CHAPTER VI.
THE tide did not permit the packet to reach the Pigeon-house,
and the impatient Lord Colambre stepped into a boat, and was
rowed across the Bay of Dublin. It was a fine summer morning.
The sun shone bright on the Wicklow mountains. He admired,
he even exulted in the beauty of the prospect; and all the early
associations of his childhood and the patriotic hopes of his
riper years swelled his heart as he approached the shores of his
native land. But scarcely had he touched his mother earth
than the whole course of his ideas was changed; and if his
heart swelled, it swelled no more with pleasurable sensations,
for instantly he found himself surrounded and attacked by a
swarm of beggars and harpies, with strange figures and stranger
tone; some craving his charity, some snatching away his lug-
gage, and at the same time bidding him "never trouble himself,"
and "
never fear." A scramble in the boat and on shore for
bags and parcels began, and an amphibious fight betwixt men,
who had one foot on sea and one on land, was seen; and long
and loud the battle of trunks and portmanteaus raged. The
vanquished departed, clinching their empty hands at their oppo-
nents, and swearing inextinguishable hatred; while the smiling
victors stood at ease, each grasping his booty-bag, basket
3
**= 4
;
$
t
1
:
1
*
1
THE ABSENTEE.
133
parcel, or portmanteau: "And, your honour, where will these
go? Where will we carry 'em all to, for your honour ?"—was
now the question. Without waiting for an answer, most of the
goods were carried, at the discretion of the porter, to the custom-
house, where, to his lordship's astonishment after this scene of
confusion, he found that he had lost nothing but his patience.
All his goods were safe, and a few "tinpennies" made his officious
porters happy men and boys; blessings were showered upon his
honour, and he was left in peace at an excellent hotel in
Street, Dublin. He rested, refreshed himself, recovered his
good humour, and walked into the coffee-house, where he found
several officers, English, Irish, and Scotch. One English officer,
a very gentleman like, sensible-looking man, of middle age, was
sitting reading a little pamphlet when Lord Colambre entered.
He looked up from time to time, and in a few minutes rose, and
joined the conversation; it turned upon the beauties and defects
of the city of Dublin. Sir James Brooke-for that was the name
of the gentleman-showed one of his brother-officers the book
which he had been reading, observing that, in his opinion, it
contained one of the best views of Dublin which he had ever
seen, evidently drawn by the hands of a master, though in a
slightly playful and ironical style.
It was An Intercepted
Letter from China." The conversation extended from Dublin
to various parts of Ireland, with all of which Sir James Brooke
showed that he was well acquainted. Observing that this con-
versation was particularly interesting to Lord Colambre, and
quickly perceiving that he was speaking to one not ignorant of
Looks, Sir James spoke of different representations and misre-
presentations of Ireland. In answer to Lord Cola inbre's in-
quiries, he named the works which had afforded him most satis-
faction; and with discriminative, not superficial, celerity, touched
on all ancient and modern authors on this subject, from Spenser
and Davies to Young and Beaufort. Lord Colambre became
anxious to cultivate the acquaintance of a gentleman who
appeared so able and willing to afford him information. Sir
James Brooke, on his part, was flattered by this eagerness of
attention, and pleased by our hero's manners and conversation;
so that, to their mutual satisfaction, they spent much of their
time together whilst they were at this hotel; and meeting fre-
quently in society in Dublin, their acquaintance every day
increased and grew into intimacy-an intimacy which was highly
advantageous to Lord Colambre's views of obtaining a just idea
of the state of manners in Ireland. Sir James Brooke had at
different periods been quartered in various parts of the country.
He had resided long enough in each to become familiar with
the people, and had varied his residence sufficiently to form
comparisons between different counties, and the habits and
C
:
1
-
}
་
}
134
STORIES OF IRELAND.
characteristics of their inhabitants. Hence he had it in his
power to direct the attention of our young observer at once
to the points most worthy of his examination, and to save
him from the common error of travellers-the deducing
general conclusions from a few particular cases, or arguing
from exceptions as if they were rules. Lord Colambre, from his
family connections, had of course immediate introduction into
the best society in Dublin, or rather into all the good society of
Dublin. In Dublin there is positively good company, and posi-
tively bad; but not, as in London, many degrees of comparison.
There are not innumerable luminaries of the polite world,
moving in different orbits of fashion, but all the bright planets
of note and name move and revolve in the same narrow limits.
Lord Colambre did not find that either his father's or his
mother's representations of society resembled the reality which
he now beheld. Lady Clonbrony had, in terms of detestation,
described Dublin such as it appeared to her soon after the
Union. Lord Clonbrony had painted it with convivial enthu
siasm, such as he saw it long and long before the Union, when
"first" he drank claret at the fashionable clubs. This picture,
unchanged in his memory, and unchangeable by his imagination,
had remained and ever would remain the same. The hospitality
of which the father boasted the son found in all its warmth, but
meliorated and refined; less convivial, more social; the fashion
of hospitality had improved. To make the stranger eat or drink
to excess, to set before him old wine and old plate, was no longer
the sum of good breeding. The guest now escaped the pomp of
grand entertainments; was allowed to enjoy ease and conversa-
tion, and to taste some of that feast of reason and that flow of
soul so often talked of and so seldom enjoyed. Lord Colambre
found a spirit of improvement, a desire for knowledge, and a
taste for science and literature in most companies, particularly
among gentlemen belonging to the Irish Bar; nor did he in
Dublin society see any of that confusion of ranks or predo-
minance of vulgarity of which his mother had complained.
Lady Clonbrony had assured him that the last time she had been
at the drawing-room at the Castle, a lady, whom she afterwards
found to be a grocer's wife, had turned angrily when her lady-
ship had accidentally trodden on her train, and exclaimed with a
strong brogue, “I'll thank you, ma'am, for the rest of my tail."
Sir James Brooke, to whom Lord Colambre, without "giving
up his authority," mentioned the fact, declared that he had no
doubt the thing had happened precisely as it was stated; but that
this was one of the extraordinary cases which ought not to pass
into a general rule; that it was a slight instance of that influence
of temporary causes from which no conclusions as to national
manners should be drawn.
ра
}
-
:
THE ABSENTEE.
135'
¡
"I happened," continued Sir James, "to be quartered in
Dublin soon after the Union took place, and I remember the
great but transient change that appeared. From the removal
of both Houses of Parliament, most of the nobility, and many of
the principal families among the Irish commoners, either hurried
in high hopes to London, or retired, disgusted and in despair, to
their houses in the country. Immediately in Dublin commerce
rose into the vacated seats of rank: wealth rose into the place
of birth. New faces and new equipages appeared. People who
had never been heard of before started into notice, pushed
themselves forward, not scrupling to elbow their way even at the
Castle; and they were presented to my lord-lieutenant and to
my lady-lieutenant; for their excellencies might have played
their viceregal parts to empty benches, had they not admitted
such persons for the moment to fill their court. Those of former
times of hereditary pretensions and high-bred minds and
manners were scandalised at all this; and they complained,
with justice, that the whole tone of society was altered; that the
decorum, elegance, polish, and charm of society were gone; and
I among the rest," said Sir James, “felt and deplored the change.
Now it is all over, we may acknowledge that perhaps even those
things which we felt most disagreeable at the time were pro-
ductive of eventual benefit. Formerly a few families set the
fashion. From time immemorial everything had in Dublin
been submitted to their hereditary authority; and conversation,
though it had been rendered polite by their example, was at the
same time limited within narrow bounds. Young people, edu-
cated upon a more enlarged plan, in time grew up; and no
authority or fashion forbidding it, necessarily rose to their just
place, and enjoyed their due influence in society. The want of
manners, joined to the want of knowledge in the nouveaux riches,
created universal disgust. They were compelled, some by ridi-
cule, some by bankruptcies, to fall back into their former places,
from which they could never more emerge. In the meantime
some of the Irish nobility and gentry, who had been living at an
unusual expense in London-an expense beyond their incomes
—were glad to return home to refit; and they brought with
them a new stock of ideas, and some taste for science and litera-
ture, which within these latter years have become fashionable
-indeed, indispensable-in London. That part of the Irish
aristocracy which immediately upon the first incursions of the
vulgarians had fled in despair to their fastnesses in the country,
hearing of the improvements which had gradually taken place
in society, and assured of the final expulsion of the barbarians,
ventured from their retreats and returned to their posts in town.
So that now," concluded Sir James, "you find a society in
Dublin composed of a most agreeable and salutary mixture of
}
;
1
M
1
j
"1
136
birth and education, gentility and knowledge, manner and
matter. You see pervading the whole new life and energy, new
talent, new ambition-a desire and a determination to improve
and be improved-a perception that higher distinction can now
be obtained in almost all company by genius and merit, than by
airs and dress.
So much for the higher order. Now,
among the class of tradesmen and shopkeepers you may amuse
yourself, my lord, by marking the difference between them and
persons of the same rank in London."
•
STORIES OF IRELAND.
•
}
Lord Colambre had several commissions to execute for his
English friends; and he made it his amusement in every shop
to observe the manners and habits of the people. He remarked
that there are in Dublin two classes of tradespeople; one who
go into business intent upon making it their occupation for life.
and as a slow but sure means of providing for themselves and
their families; another class, who take up trade merely as a
temporary resource, to which they condescend for a few years,
trusting that they shall in that time make a fortune, retire, and
commence, or recommence, gentlemen. The Irish regular men
of business are like all other men of business-punctual, frugal,
careful, and so forth; with the addition of more intelligence,
invention, and enterprise than are usually found in Englishmen
of the same rank. But the Dublin tradesmen pro tempore are
a class by themselves. They begin without capital, buy stock
upon credit, in hopes of making large profits, and, in the same
hopes, sell upon credit. Now, if the credit they can obtain is
longer than that which they are forced to give, they go on and
prosper; if not, they break, turn bankrupts, and sometimes as
bankrupts thrive. By such men, of course, every "short cut" to
fortune is followed; whilst every habit which requires time to
prove its advantage is disregarded; nor with such views can a
character for punctuality have its just value. In the head of a
man who intends to be a tradesman to-day and a gentleman
to morrow, ideas of honesty and the duties of a tradesman, and
of the honour and the accomplishments of a gentleman, are
oddly jumbled together, and the characteristics of both are lost
in the compound.
*
He will oblige you, but he will not obey you; he will do you
a favour, but he will not do you justice; he will do anything to
serve you, but the particular thing you order he neglects. He
asks your pardon, for he would not, for all the goods in his
warehouse, disoblige you; not for the sake of your custom, but
he has a particular regard for your family. Economy in the
eyes of such a tradesman is, if not a mean vice, at least a shabby
virtue, of which he is too polite to suspect his customers, and to
which he is proud of proving himself superior. Many London
tradesmen, after making their thousands and their tens of thous-
t
*
2
¦
11
THE ABSENTEE.
137
ands, feel a pride in still continuing to live like plain men of busi-
ness; but from the moment a Dublin tradesman of this style has
made a few hundreds he sets up his gig, and then his head is in
his carriage and not in his business; and when he has made a
few thousands, he buys or builds a country-house; and then and
thenceforward his head, heart, and soul are in his country-house,
and only his body in the shop with his customers.
Whilst he is making money, his wife, or rather his lady,
is spending twice as much out of town as he makes in it. At the
word country-house let no one figure to himself a snug little box,
like that in which a "warm" London citizen, after many years
of toil, indulges himself one day out of seven in repose, enjoy-
ing from his gazabo the smell of the dust and the view of pass-
ing coaches on the London road. No; these Hibernian villas
are on a much more magnificent scale. Some of them belonged
formerly to Irish members of Parliament who were at a distance
from their country-seats. After the Union these were bought
by citizens and tradesmen, who spoiled, by the mixture of their
own fancies, what had been originally designed by men of good
taste.
Some time after Lord Colambre's arrival in Dublin he had an
opportunity of seeing one of these villas, which belonged to Mrs.
Raffarty, a grocer's lady, and sister to one of Lord Clonbrony's
agents, Mr. Nicholas Garraghty. Lord Colambre was surprised
to find that his father's agent resided in Dublin. He had been
used to see agents, or stewards as they are called in England,
live in the country, and usually on the estate of which they have
the management. Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, however, liad
handsome house, in a fashionable part of Dublin. Lord Colambre
called several times to see him, but he was out of town, receiving
rents for some other gentleman, as he was agent for more than
one property.
Though our hero had not the honour of seeing Mr. Garraghty,
he had the pleasure of finding Mrs. Raffarty one day at her
brother's house. Just as his lordship came to the door she was
going on her jaunting-car to her villà, called Tusculum, situate
near Bray. She spoke much of the beauties of the vicinity of
Dublin. On finding that his lordship was going with Sir James
Brooke and a party of gentlemen to see the county of Wicklow,
she invited his lordship and party to do her the honour of taking
a little collation at Tusculum on their road.
Our hero was glad to have an opportunity of seeing more of
a species of fine lady with which he was unacquainted.
The invitation was verbally made and verbally accepted, but
the lady afterwards thought it necessary to send a written invi-
tation in due form, and the note she sent directed to the " Most
Right Honourable" the Lord Viscount Colambre. On opening
P
ک۔
marc
}
I
138
STORIES OF IRELAND.
it he perceived that it could not have been intended for him. It
ran as follows:
"MY DEAR JULIANA O'LEARY,-I have got a promise from
Colambre that he will be with us at Tusculum on Friday, the
20th, on his way from the county of Wicklow, for the collation
I mentioned; and expect a large party of officers; so pray come
early, with your house, or as many as the jaunting-car can
bring. And pray, my dear, be elegant. You need not let it
transpire to Mrs. O'G- but make my apologies to Miss
O'G- if she says anything, and tell her I'm quite concerned
I can't ask her for that day, because, tell her, I'm so crowded,
and am to have none that day but real quality.
"Yours ever and ever,
"ANASTASIA RAFFARTY.
"P.S.-I hope to make the gentlemen stop the night with
me; so that I shall not have beds. Excuse haste, and com-
pliments, &c.
"TUSCULUM, Sunday, 15."
After a charming tour in the county of Wicklow, where the
beauty of the natural scenery, and the taste with which those
natural beauties had been cultivated, far surpassed his most
sanguine expectations, Lord Colambre and his companions
arrived at Tusculum, where he found Mrs. Raffarty and Miss
Juliana O'Leary, very elegant, with a large party of the ladies and
gentlemen of Bray, assembled in a drawing-room, fine with bad
pictures and gaudy gilding. The windows were all shut, and
the company were playing cards with all their might. This
was the fashion of the neighbourhood. In compliment to Lord
Colambre and the officers, the ladies left the card-tables; and
Mrs. Raffarty, observing that his Lordship seemed partial to
walking, took him out, as she said, "to do the honours of nature
and art."
His lordship was much amused by the mixture, which was
now exhibited to him, of taste and incongruity, ingenuity and
absurdity, genius and blunder; by the contrast between the
finery and vulgarity, the affectation and ignorance, of the lady of
the villa. We should be obliged to stop too long at Tusculum
were we to attempt to detail all the odd circumstances of this
visit; but we may record an example or two, which will give a
sufficient idea of the whole.
In the first place, before they left the drawing-room, Miss
Juliana O'Leary directed his lordship's attention to a picture
over the drawing-room chimney-piece. "Is it not a fine piece,
my lord ?" she said, naming the price Mrs. Raffarty had lately
paid for it at an auction. It has a right to be a fine piece,
indeed;
for it cost a fine price!" Nevertheless, this "fine" piece
66
་་
+
THE ABSENTEE.
139
was a vile daub; and our hero could only avoid the sin of
flattery, or the danger of offending the lady, by protesting that
he had no judgment in pictures.
"Indeed! I don't pretend to be a connoisseur myself; but
I'm told the style is undeniably modern. And was I not lucky,
Juliana, not to let that Medona' be knocked down to me?
was just going to bid when I heard such smart bidding; but
fortunately the auctioneer let out that it was done by a very
old master, a hundred years ago. Oh! your most obedient,
thinks I if that's the case, it is not for my money; so I bought
this in lieu of the smoke-dried thing, and had it a bargain.
""
C
In architecture, Mrs. Raffarty had as good a taste and as
much skill as in painting. There had been a handsome portico
in front of the house; but this, interfering with the lady's
desire to have a verandah, which she said could not be dispensed
with, she had raised the whole portico to the second story, where
it stood, or seemed to stand, upon a tarpaulin roof. Mrs.
Raffarty explained that the pillars, though they looked so sub-
stantial, were really hollow and as light as feathers, and were
supported with cramps, without "disobliging" the front wall
of the house at all to signify.
Before she showed the company any farther, she said: "I
must premise to your lordship that I was originally stinted for
room for my improvements, so that I could not follow my
genius liberally. I had some things on a confined scale, and
was obliged occasionally to consult my pocket-compass. I pride
myself upon having put as much into a tight pattern as could
well be done that was my whole ambition, study, and problem,
for I was determined to have at least the honour of having a
little 'taste' of everything at Tusculum."
She then led the way to a little conservatory, and a little
pinery, and a little grapery, and a little aviary, and a little phea-
santry, and a little dairy for show, and a little cottage for ditto,
with a grotto full of shells, and a littlehermitage full of earwigs,
and a little ruin full of looking-glass, " to enlarge and multiply
the effect of the Gothic." "But you could only put your head
in, because it was just fresh-painted, and though there had been
a fire ordered in the ruin all night, it had only smoked."
In all Mrs. Raffarty's buildings, whether ancient or modern,
there was a studied crookedness.
Yes," she said, "she hated everything straight-it was so
formal and unpicturesque. Uniformity and conformity," she
observed, "had had their day; now, thank the stars of the
present age, irregularity and difformity bear the palm-and have
the majority."
As they proceeded and walked through the grounds, from
which Mrs. Raffarty, though she had done her best, could not
*
•
:
140
STORIES OF IRELAND.
take that which nature had given, she pointed out to my
lord
"a happy moving termination," consisting of a Chinese bridge,
with a fisherman leaning over the rails. On a sudden the
fisherman was seen to tumble over the bridge into the water.
The gentlemen ran to extricate the poor fellow, while they
heard Mrs. Raffarty bawling to his lordship to beg he would
never mind, and not trouble himself.
When they arrived at the bridge they saw the man hanging
from part of the bridge, and apparently struggling in the water;
but when they attempted to pull him up, they found it was only
a stuffed figure, which had been pulled into the stream by a real
fish, which had seized hold of the bait.
Mrs. Raffarty, vexed by the fisherman's fall, and by the
laughter it occasioned, did not recover herself sufficiently to be
happily ridiculous during the remainder of the walk, nor till
dinner was announced, when she apologised for "having changed
the collation, at first intended, into a dinner, which she hoped
would be found no bad substitute, and which she flattered herself
might prevail on my lord and the gentlemen to sleep, as there
was no moon."
The dinner had two great faults: profusion and pretension.
There was, in fact, ten times more on the table than was neces-
sary; and the entertainment was far above the circumstances of
the person by whom it was given. For instance, the dish of fish
at the head of the table had been brought across the island from
Sligo, and cost five guineas-as the lady of the house failed not
to make known. But, after all, things were not of a piece; there
was a disparity between the entertainment and the attendants;
there was no proportion or fitness of things-a painful endea-
vour at what could not be attained, and a toiling in vain to
conceal and repair deficiencies and blunders. Had the mistress
of the house been quiet; had she, as Mrs. Broadhurst would
say, let things alone, let things take their course, all would have
passed off with well-bred people. She was incessantly apolo-
gising, and fussing, and fretting, inwardly and outwardly, and
directing and calling to her servants-striving to make a butler,
who was deaf, and a boy, who was hair-brained, do the business
of five accomplished footmen of "parts and figure." The mis-
tress of the house called for "plates, clean plates!" But none
did come when she did call.
Mrs. Raffarty called "Lanty! Lanty! My lord's plate, there!
James! bread to Captain Bowles! James! port wine to the
Major! James! James Kenny! James!'
And panting James toiled after her in vain.
At length one course was fairly got through, and after a tor-
turing half-hour the second course appeared, and James Kenny
was intent upon one thing and Lanty upon another, so that the
1
f
}
THE ABSENTEE.
I4I
wine sauce for the hare was spilt by their collision ; but what
was worse, there seemed little chance that the whole of this
second course should ever be placed altogether rightly upon the
table. Mrs. Raffarty cleared her throat, and nodded, and
pointed, and sighed, and sent Lanty after Kenny, and Kenny
after Lanty; for what one did the other undid, and at last the
lady's anger kindled, and she spoke.
66
Kenny! James Kenny! set the seakale at this corner, and
put down the grass cross-corners; and match your macaroni
yonder with them puddens, set-Ogh! James! the pyramid in
the middle, can't ye?"
The pyramid in changing places was overturned. Then it
was that the mistress of the feast, falling back in her seat, and
lifting up her hands and eyes in despair, ejaculated,
"Oh
James! James!"
The pyramid was raised by the assistance of the military
engineers, and stood trembling again on its base; but the lady's
temper could not be so easily restored to its equilibrum. She
vented her ill-humour on her unfortunate husband, who hap-
pening not to hear her order to help my lord to some hare, she
exclaimed, “You're no more gud at the fut of my table than a
stick of celery!
""
The Comedy of Errors which this day's visit exhibited amused
all the spectators. But Lord Colambre, after he had smiled,
sometimes sighed. Similar foibles and follies in persons of
different rank, fortune, and manner, appear to common observers
so unlike, that they laugh without scruples of conscience in one
case, at what in another ought to touch themselves most nearly.
The same desire to appear what they were not; the same vain
ambition to vie with superior rank and fortune, or fashion,
actuated Lady Clonbrony and Mr. Raffarty; and whilst this
ridiculous grocer's wife made herself the sport of some of her
guests, Lord Colambre sighed, from the reflection, that what she
was to them his mother was to persons in a higher rank of
fashion. He sighed still more deeply when he considered that
in whatever station, or with whatever fortune, extravagance
must lead to distress and meanness, and end in shame and ruin.
In the morning, as they were riding away from Tusculum, and
talking over their visit, the officers laughed heartily, and rallyiug
Lord Colambre upon his seriousness, accused him of having
fallen in love with Mrs. Raffarty, or with the elegant Miss Juliana.
Our hero, who never wished to be serious out of season, laughed
with those that laughed, and endeavoured to catch the spirit of
the jest. But Sir James Brooke, who now was well acquainted
with him, and knew something of the history of his family,
understood his real feelings, and sympathising in them, en-
deavoured to give the conversation a new turn.
**** * akan ku sa ma stone qe me one
#y
{
So far from that
WTAR
Ang
ON A MA
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Look there, Bowles," he said, as they were just riding into
the town of Bray; "look at the barouche standing at that
green door at the farthest end of the town. Is not that Lady
Dashfort's barouche ?
""
142
"It looks like the one she sported in Dublin last year," said
Bowles; "but you don't think she'd give us the same two sea-
sons? Besides, she is not in Ireland, is she? I did not hear of
her intending to come over again."
"I beg your pardon," said another officer, "she will come
again to so good a market, to marry her other daughter. I hear
she said, or swore, that she will marry the young widow, Lady
Isabel, to an Irish nobleman."
•
"Whatever she says she swears, and whatever she swears
she'll do,” replied Bowles.
"Have a care, my Lord Colambre; if she sets her heart upon
you for Lady Isabel, she has you-nothing can save you. Heart
she has none; so there you're safe, my lord," said the other officer;
but if Lady Isabel sets her eye upon you, no basilisk's is surer.
But if Lady Dashfort had landed, I am sure we should have
heard of it, for she makes noise enough wherever she goes;
especially in Dublin, where all she said and did was echoed and
magnified till one could hear of nothing else. I don't think
she has landed."
""
(C
"I hope to heaven they may never land again in Ireland!"
cried Sir James Brooke: one worthless woman, especially one
worthless Englishwoman of rank, does incalculable mischief here,
because the people look up to the sister country for fashion.
For my own part, as a warm friend to Ireland, I would rather
see all the toads and serpents and venomous reptiles that St.
Patrick carried off in his bag, come back to this island, than
these two dashers. Why, they would bite half the women and
girls in the kingdom with the rage for mischief, before half the
husbands and fathers could turn their heads about. And, once
bit, there's no cure in nature or art."
"No horses to this barouche!" cried Captain Bowles. "Pray,
sir, whose carriage is this ?" said the captain to a servant who
was standing beside it.
(C
My Lady Dashfort, sir, it belongs to," answered the servant
in rather a surly English tone. Then turning to a boy who was
lounging at the door, he said; "Pat, bid them bring out the
horses, for my ladies is in a hurry to get home."
Captain Bowles stopped to make his servant alter the girths
of his horse, and to satisfy his curiosity, and the whole party
halted. Captain Bowles beckoned to the landlord of the inn,
who was standing at his door.
"So Lady Dashfort is here again? This is her barouche, is
not it ? "
THE ABSENTEE.
143
L
:
66 Yes, sir, she is: it is.”
"And has she sold her fine horses ?"
"Oh no, sir. This is not her carriage at all. She is not here
—that is, she is here in Ireland, but down in the county of
Wicklow on a visit. And this is not her own carriage at all:
that is to say, not that which she has with herself driving, but
only just the cast barouche like, as she keeps for the lady's
maids."
"For the lady's maids!—that is good!—that is new, faith!
Sir James do you hear that?"
(C
}
Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!" said
the honest landlord. "And this minute we've got a directory of
five of them abigails sitting within our house, as fine ladies, as
great dashers, too, every bit, as their principals; and kicking up
as much dust on the road, every grain! Think of them, now!
the likes of them, that must have four horses, and would not
stir a foot with one less! As the gentleman's gentleman there
was telling and boasting to me about now, when the burouche
was ordered for them, there at the lady's house where Lady Dash-
fort is on a visit, they said they would not get in till they'd get
four horses, and their ladies backed them. So the four horses
were got; and they just drove out here to see the points of view
for fashion's sake, like their betters, and up with their glasses
like their ladies, and then out with their watches, and Isn't
it time to lunch? So there they have been lunching within on
what they brought with them; for nothing in our house could
they touch, of course. They brought themselves a 'pic-nic' lunch,
with madeira and champagne to wash it down. Why, gentle-
men, what do you think, but a set of them as they were bragging
to me, turned out of a boarding-house at Cheltenham last year,
because they had not peach-pies to their lunch! But here they
come!-shawls, and veils, and all!-streamers flying! But
mum is my cue! Captain, are these girths to your fancy now?"
said the landlord aloud. As he stooped to alter a buckle, he
added, in a voice meant to be heard only by Captain Bowles,
"If there's a tongue, male or female, in the three kingdoms, it's in
that foremost woman, Mrs. Petito."
•
"Mrs. Petito!" repeated Lord Colambre, as the name caught
his ear; and approaching the barouche in which the five abigails
were now seated, he saw the identical Mrs. Petito who, when he
left London, had been in his mother's service.
She recognised his lordship with very gracious intimacy, and
before he had time to ask any questions she answered all she
conceived he was going to ask, and with a volubility which justi-
fied the landlord's eulogium of her tongue.
"Yes, my lord, I left my Lady Clonbrony some time back-
the day after you left town; and both her ladyship and Miss
-
}
144
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Nugent was charmingly, and would have sent their loves to your
lordship, I'm sure, if they'd any notion I should have met you,
my lord, so soon. And I was very sorry to part with them; but
the fact was, my lord," said Mrs. Petito, laying a detaining hand
upon Lord Colambre's whip, one end of which he unwittingly
trusted within her reach, "I and my lady had a little difference,
which the best friends, you know, sometimes have. Lady Clon-
brouy was so condescending as to give me up to Lady Dashfort.
I knew no more than the child unborn that her ladyship had it
in contemplation to cross the seas. But to oblige my lady and
as Colonel Heathcock, with his regiment of militia, was coming
for purtection in the packet at the same time, and we to have
the Government yacht, I waived my objections to Ireland And
indeed, though I was greatly frighted at first, having heard all
we've heard, you know, my lord, from Lady Clonbrony, of there
being no living in Ireland, and expecting to see no trees, nor
accommodation, nor anything but bogs all along, yet I declare I
was very agreeably surprised; for, as far as I've seen at Dublin,
and in the vicinity, the accommodations, and everything of that
nature, now, is vastly put-upable with!
""
،،
'My lord," said Sir James Brooke, we shall be late.”
Lord Colambre, withdrawing his whip from Mrs. Petito, turned
his horse away. She, stretching over the back of the barouche
as he rode off, bawled to him-
"My lord, we're at Stephen's Green when we're at Dublin."
But as he did not choose to hear, she raised her voice to its
highest pitch, adding—
"And where are you, my lord, to be found, as I have a parcel
of Miss Nugent's for you?"
Lord Colambre instantly turned back, and gave his direction.
Cleverly done, faith!" said the major.
<C
(C
'I did not hear her say when Lady Dashfort is to be in town,"
said Captain Bowles.
66
What, Bowles! have you a mind to lose more of your
guineas to Lady Dashfort, and to be jockeyed out of another
horse by Lady Isabel?"
"Oh! confound it-no! I'll keep out of the way of that. I
have had enough," said Captain Bowles. "It is Lord Colambre's
turn now.
You hear that Lady Dashfort would be very proud
to see him. His lordship is in for it; and with such an auxiliary
as Mrs. Petito, Lady Dashfort has him for Lady Isabel, as sure
as he has a heart or hand."
(C
My compliments to the ladies, but my heart is engaged,"
said Lord Colambre; "and my hand shall go with my heart, or
not at all."
66
Engaged!-engaged to a very amiable, charming woman,
no doubt," said Sir James Brooke. "I have an excellent
:
:
t
4
"
C
THE ABSENTEE.
145
opinion of your taste; and if you can return the compliment to
my judgment, take my advice. Don't trust to your heart's being
engaged, much less plead that engagement; for it would be
Lady Dashfort's sport and Lady Isabel's joy to make you
break your engagement, and break your mistress's heart: the
fairer, the more amiable, the more beloved, the greater the
triumph, the greater the delight in giving pain. All the time
love would be out of the question. Neither mother nor daughter
would care if you were hanged, or, as Lady Dashfort would
herself have expressed it, if you were d-d!"
With such women, I should think a man's heart could be in
no great danger," said Lord Colambre.
"There you might be mistaken, my lord; there's a way to
every man's heart which no man, in his own case, is aware of,
but which every woman knows right well, and none better than
these ladies-by his vanity."
66
True," said Captain Bowles.
"I am not so vain as to think myself without vanity," said
Lord Colambre; "but love, I should imagine, is a stronger
passion than vanity."
"You should imagine! Stay till you are tried, my lord.
Excuse me," said Captain Bowles, laughing.
Lord Colambre felt the good sense of this, and determined to
have nothing to do with these dangerous ladies. Indeed, though -
he had talked, he had scarcely yet thought of them, for his
imagination was intent upon that packet from Miss Nugeut
which Mrs. Petito said she had for him. He heard nothing of
it or of her for some days. He sent his servant every day to
Stephen's Green, to inquire if Lady Dashfort had returned to
town. Her ladyship at last returned; but Mrs. Petito could
not deliver the parcel to any hand but Lord Colambre's and
she would not stir out because her lady was indisposed. No
longer able to restrain his inpatience, Lord Colambre weut
himself, knocked at Lady Dashfort's door, inquired for Mrs.
Petito, and was shown into her parlour. The parcel was
delivered to him; but, to his utter disappointment, it was a
parcel for, not from, Miss Nugent. It contained merely an odd
volume of some book of Miss Nugent's which Mrs. Petito said
she had put up along with her things in a mistake, and she
thought it her duty to return it by the first opportunity of a safe
conveyance.
Whilst Lord Colambre, to comfort himself for his disappoint-
ment, was fixing his eyes upon Miss Nugent's name, written by
her own hand, in the first leaf of the book, the door opened, and
the figure of an interesting-looking lady, in deep mourning,
appeared-appeared for one moment, and retired.
Only my Lord Colambre, about a parcel I was bringing for
**
STORIES OF IRELAND.
146...
him from England, my lady. My lady Isabel, my lord," said.
Mrs. Petito.
Whilst Mrs. Petito was saying this the entrance and retreat
had been made, and made with such dignity, grace, and modesty;
with such innocence dove-like eyes had been raised upon him,
fixed and withdrawn; with such a gracious bend the Lady
Isabel had bowed to him as she retired; with such a smile, and
with so soft a voice, had repeated "Lord Colambre!" that his
lordship, though well aware that all this was mere acting, could
not help saying to himself as he left the house :
"It is a pity it is only acting. There is certainly something
very engaging in this woman. It is a pity she is an actress. And
so young! A much younger woman than I expected. A widow
before most women are wives. So young, surely she cannot be
such a fiend as they declare her to be!"
A few nights afterwards Lord Colambre was, with some of
his acquaintance, at the theatre, when Lady Isabel and her
mother came into the box where seats had been reserved for
them, and where their appearance instantly made that sensation
which is usually created by the entrance of persons of the first
notoriety in the fashionable world. Lord Colambre was not a
man to be dazzled by fashion, or to mistaks notoriety for defe-
rence paid to merit, and for the admiration commanded by
beauty or talents. Lady Dashfort's coarse person, loud voice,
daring manners, and indelicate wit, disgusted him almost past
endurance. He saw Sir James Brooke in the box opposite to
him, and twice determined to go round to him. His lord-
ship had crossed the benches, and once his hand was upon the
lock of the door; but, attracted as much by the daughter as
repelled by the mother, he could move no farther. The mother's
masculine boldness, heightened by contrast the charms of the
daughter's soft sentimentality. Lady Isabel seemed to shrink
from the indelicacy of her mother's manners, and appeared
peculiarly distressed by the strange efforts Lady Dashfort made
from time to time to drag her forward, and to fix upon her the
attention of gentlemen. Colonel Heathcock, who, as Mrs.
Petito had informed Lord Colambre, had come over with his
regiment to Ireland, was beckoned into their box by Lady
Dashfort, by her squeezed into a seat next to Lady Isabel; but
Lady Isabel seemed to feel sovercign contempt, properly re-
pressed by politeness, for what, in a low whisper to a female
friend on the other side of her, she called, "the self-sufficient
inanity of this sad coxcomb." Other coxcombs of a more viva-
cious style, who stationed themselves round her mother, or to
whom her mother stretched from box to box to talk, seemed to
engage no more of Lady Isabel's attention than just what she
was compelled to give by Lady Dashfort's repeated calls of-
1
And I am
"
42214
+
:
וה
3
THE ABSENTEE..
147
"Isabel
Isabel! Colonel G-
Isabel! Lord D―
bow-
ing to you. Belle! Belle! Sir Harry B-. Isabel, child,
with your eyes on the stage! Did you never see a play before ?
Novice! Major P— waiting to catch your eye this quarter of
an hour; and now her eyes gone down to her playbill! Sir
Harry, do take it from her:
Were eyes so radiant only made to read?
Lady Isabel appeared to suffer so exquisitely and so naturally
from this persecution that Lord Colambre said to himself—
"If this be acting, it is the best acting I ever saw. If this be
art, it deserves to be nature.'
""
Ánd with this sentiment he did himself the honour of handing
Lady Isabel to her carriage this night, and with this sentiment
he awoke next morning; and by the time he had dressed and
breakfasted he determined that it was impossible all that he
had seen could be acting. "No woman, no young woman, could
have such art." Sir James Brooke had been unwarrantably
severe; he would go and tell him so.
But Sir James Brooke this day received orders for his regi-
ment to march to quarters in a distant part of Ireland. His
head was full of arms, and ammunition, and knapsacks, and
billets, and routes; and there was no possibility, even in the
present chivalrous disposition of our hero, to enter upon the
defence of Lady Isabel. Indeed, in the regret he felt for the ap-
proaching and unexpected departure of his friend, Lord Colambre
forgot the fair lady. But just when Sir James had his foot in
the stirrup he stopped:
CC
By-the-bye, my dear lord, I saw you at the play last night.
You seemed to be much interested. Don't think me imperti-
nent if I remind you of our conversation when we were riding
home from Tusculum; and if I warn you," said he, mounting
his horse, "to beware of counterfeits-for such are abroad.
Reining in his impatient steed, Sir James turned again and
added, Deeds, not words,' is my motto. Remember, we can
judge better by the conduct of people towards others than by
their manner towards ourselves."
CHAPTER VII.
OUR hero was quite convinced of the good sense of his friend's
last remark, that it is safer to judge of people by their con-
duct to others than by their manners towards ourselves. But
as yet he felt scarcely any interest on the subject of Lady Dash-
. (
ነገሩ
►
148
STORIES OF IRELAND.
fort or Lady Isabel's characters. However, he inquired and
listened to all the evidence he could obtained respecting this
mother and daughter.
He heard terrible reports of the mischief they had done in
families; the extravagance into which they had led men; the
imprudence, to say no worse, iuto which they had betrayed
women; matches broken off, reputations ruined, husbands
alienated from their wives, and wives made jealous of their hus-
bands. But in some of these stories he discovered exaggeration
so flagrant as to make him doubt the whole; in others it could
not be positively determined whether the mother or daughter
had been most to blame.
(
Lord Colambre always followed the charitable rule of believ-
ing only half what the world says, and here he thought it fair
to believe which half he pleased. He further observed that,
though all joined in abusing these ladies in their absence, when
present they seemed universally admired. Though everybody
cried Shame!" and "Shocking!" yet everybody visited them.
No parties were so crowded as Lady Dashfort's; no party
deemed pleasant or fashionable where Lady Dashfort or Lady
Isabel was not. The bon mots of the mother were everywhere
repeated: the dress and air of the daughter everywhere
imitated. Yet Lord Colambre could not help being surprised
at their popularity in Dublin, because, independently of all
moral objections, there were causes of a different sort, sufficient,
he thought, to prevent Lady Dashfort from being liked by the
Irish-indeed by any society. She in general affected to be
ill-bred and inattentive to the feelings and opinions of others;
careless whom she offended by her wit or by her decided tone.
There are some persons in so high a region of fashion that they
imagine themselves above the thunder of vulgar censure. Lady
Dashfort felt herself in this exalted situation, and fancied she
might
Hear the innocuous thunder roll below.
Her rank was so high that none could dare to call her vulgar:
what would have been gross in any one of meaner note, in her
was freedom, or originality, or Lady Dashfort's way. It was
Lady Dashfort's pleasure and pride to show her power in per-
verting the public taste. She often said to those English com-
panions with whom she was intimate, "Now see what follies I
can lead these fools into. Hear the nonsense I can make them
repeat as wit." Upon some occasion one of her friends ventured
to fear that something she had said was too strong.
strong, was it? Well, I like to be strong; woe to the weak."
On another occasion she was told that certain visitors had seen
her ladyship yawning. "Yawn, did I P-glad of it. The yawn
“Too
!
D
C
THE ABSENTEE.
149
+
TAG
+
sent them away, or I should have snored. Rude was I? They
won't complain. To say I was rude to them would be to say
that I did not think it worth my while to be otherwise. Barba-
rians are not we the civilized English, come to teach them
manners and fashions? Whoever does not conform, and swear
allegiance too, we shall keep out of the English pale."
Lady Dashfort forced her way, and she set the fashion
fashion, which converts the ugliest dress into what is beautiful
and charming, governs the public mode of morals and in man-
ners; and thus, when great talents and high rank combine, they
can debase or elevate the public taste.
With Lord Colambre she played more artfully; she drew
him out in defence of his beloved country, and gave him oppor-
tunities of appearing to advantage: this be could not help
feeling, especially when Lady Isabel was present. Lady Dash-
fort had dealt long enough with human nature to know that to
make any man pleased with her, she should begin by making
him pleased with himself.
Insensibly the antipathy that Lord Colambre had originally
felt to Lady Dashfort wore off; her faults he legan to think
were assumed; he pardoned her defiance of good breeding when
he observed that she could, when she chose it, be most engag
ingly polite. It was not that she did not know what was right,
but that she did not think it always for her interest to practise it.
The party opposed to Lady Dashfort affirmed that her wit
depended merely on unexpectedness; a cha racteristic which may
be applied to any impropriety of speech, manner, or conduct.
In some of her ladyship's repartees, however, Lord Colambre
now acknowledged there was more than unexpectedness. There
was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly unfit for a woman, and he
was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear it. In short, excep-
tionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort's conversation had
become entertaining to him; and though he could never esteem
or feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow that
she could be agreeable.
(6
Ay, I knew how it would be," said she when some of her
friends told her this.
"He began by detesting me, and did I
not tell you that if I thought it worth my while to make him
like me, he must, sooner or later? I delight in seeing people
begin with me as they do with olives, making all manner of
horrid faces and silly protestations that they will never touch
an olive again as long as they live; but after a little time these
very folk grow so desperately fond of olives that there is no
dessert without them. Isabel, child, you are in the sweet line;
but sweets cloy. You never heard of anybody living on marma-
lade, did you?
Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.
1
!
150
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well,"
pursued the mother; "but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire;
somebody must keep up the spirit and bustle, and carry on the
plot of the piece; and I am that somebody, as you shall
see. Is not that our hero's voice which I hear on the stairs P-"
It was Lord Colambre. His lordship had by this time become
a constant visitor at Lady Dashfort's. Not that he had forgotten
or that he meant to disregard his friend Sir James Brooke's
parting words. He promised himself faithfully that if anything
should occur to give him reason to suspect designs such as those
to which the warning pointed, he would be on his guard, and
would prove his generalship by an able retreat. But to imagine
attacks where none were attempted, to suspect ambuscades in
the open country, would be ridiculous and cowardly.
"No," thought our hero; "heaven forefend I should be such
a coxcomb as to fancy every woman who speaks to me has
designs upon my precious heart, or on my more precious estate!"
As he walked from his hotel to Lady Dashfort's house, inge-
nuously wrong, he came to this conclusion just as he ascended
the stairs, and just as her ladyship had settled her future plan
of operations.
After talking over the nothings of the day, and after having
given two or three cuts at the society of Dublin, with two or
three compliments to individuals who she knew were favourites
with his lordship, she suddenly turned to him:
CC
My lord, I think you told me, or my own sagacity discovered,
that you want to see something of Ireland, and that you don't
intend, like most travellers, to turn round, see nothing, and go.
home content."
Lord Colambre assured her ladyship that she had judged him
rightly, for that nothing would content him but seeing all that
was possible to be seen of his native country. It was for this
special purpose he came to Ireland.
"Ah! well; very good purpose: can't be better. But now,
how to accomplish it. You know the Portuguese proverb says,
You go to hell for the good things you intend to do, and to
heaven for those you do.' Now let us see what you will do.
Dublin, I suppose, you've seen enough of by this time-through
and through-round and round; this makes me first giddy and
then sick. Let me show you the country-not the face of it,
but the body of it-the people. Not Castle this or Newtown
that, but their inhabitants. I know them-I have the key or
the picklock to their minds. An Irishman is as different an
animal on his guard and off his guard as a miss in school from
a miss out of school. A fine country for game I'll show you;
and if you are a good marksman, you may have plenty of shots
'at folly as it flies.""
**
1
:
T
}
:
:
;
:
J
;
A
THE ABSENTEE
151
Lord Colambre smiled.
"As to Isabel," pursued her ladyship, "I shall put her in
charge of Heathcock, who is going with us. She won't thank
me for that, but you will. Nay, no fibs, man; you know, I
know, as who does not that has seen the world, that though a
pretty woman is a mighty pretty thing, yet she is confoundedly
in one's way when anything else is to be seen, heard-or
understood."
Every objection anticipated and removed, and so far a pro-
spect held out of attaining all the information he desired, with
more than all the amusement he could have expected, Lord
Colambre seemed much tempted to accept the invitation; but
he hesitated, because, as he said, her ladyship might be going
to pay visits to persons with whom he was not acquainted.
"Bless you! don't let that be a stumbling-block in the way
of your tender conscience. I am going to Killpatrickstown,
where you'll be as welcome as light. You know them, they
know you—at least you shall have a proper letter of invitation
from my lord and my lady Killpatrick, and all that. And as
to the rest, you know, a young man is always welcome every-
where, a young nobleman kindly welcome-I won't say such a
young man and such a young nobleman, for that might put
you to your bows or your blushes; but nobilitas by itself,
nobility is virtue enough in all parties, in all families where
there are girls, and of course balls, as there are always at
Killpatrickstown. Don't be alarmed: you shall not be forced
to dance, or asked to marry. I'll be your security. You shali
be at full liberty, and it is a house where you can do just what
you will. Indeed, I go to no others. These Killpatricks are the
best creatures in the world; they think nothing good or grand
enough for me. If I'd let them, they would lay down cloth of
gold over their bogs for me to walk upon. Good-hearted beings,"
added Lady Dashfort, marking a cloud gathering on Lord
Colambre's countenance: I laugh at them because I love them.
I could not love anythiug I might not laugh at-your lordship
excepted. So you'll come-that's settled.
36
And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatrickstown.
66
Everything here sumptuous and unfinished, you see, "said
Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre, the day after their arrival; "all
begun as if the projectors thought they had the command of the
mines of Peru; and ended as if the possessors had not sixpence.
Luxuries enough for an English prince of the blood, but not
enough comforts for an English yeoman. And you may be sure
that great repairs and alterations have gone on, to fit this house
for our reception, and for our English eyes! Poor people! English
visitors, in this point of view, are horribly expensive to the
Irish. Did you ever hear that in the last century, or in the
}
{
}
5
FAN
152
STORIES OF IRELAND.
A P
century before the last―to put my story far enough back, so that
it shall not touch anybody living-when a certain English noble-
man, Lord Blank A sent to let his Irish friend Lord
Blank B- know that he and all his train were coming over
to pay him a visit, the Irish nobleman, Blank B -, knowing
the deplorable condition of his castle, sat down fairly to calculate
whether it would cost him most to put the building in good and
sufficient repair fit to receive these English visitors, or to burn it
to the ground. He found the balance to be in favour of burning,
which was wisely accomplished next day. Perhaps Killpatrick
would have done well to follow this example. Resolve me which
is worst to be burnt out of house and home, or to be eaten out
of house and home? In this house, above and below stairs, in-
cluding first and second table, housekeeper's room, lady's maid's
room, butler's room, and gentlemen's, one hundred and four
people sit down to dinner every day, as Petito informs me, besides
kitchen-boys, and what they call char-women, who never sit
down, but who do not eat or waste the less for that, and
retainers and friends-friends to the fifth and sixth generation,
who must get their bit and their sup'; for- Sure, it's only
Biddy,' they say," continued Lady Dashfort, imitating their Irish
brogue. "And, sure, 'tis nothing at all, out of all his honour,
my lord, has. How could he feel it!?
How could he feel it! Long life to him! He's
not that way: not a couple in all Ireland, and that's saying a
great dale, looks less after their own, nor is more off-handeder
or open-hearteder, or greater open-housekeepers, nor³ my Lord
and my Lady Killpatrick.' Now there's encouragement for a
lord and a lady to ruin themselves."
<
Lady Dashfort imitiated the Irish brogue in perfection; boasted
that she was mistress of fourteen different brogues, and had
brogues for all occasions." By her mixture of mimicry, sarcasm,
exaggeration, and truth, she succeeded in making Lord Colambre
laugh at everything at which she wished to make him laugh; at
everything, but not at everybody. Whenever she became per-
sonal he became serious, or at least endeavoured to become seri-
ous; and if he could not instantly resume the command of his
risible muscles, he reproached himself.
"It is shameful to laugh at these people, indeed, Lady Dash-
fort, in their own house-these hospitable people who are enter-
taining us."
66
Entertaining us! True; and if we are entertained, how can
we help laughing?
2)
All expostulation was thus turned off by a jest, as it was her
pride to make Lord Colambre laugh in spite of his better feel-
ings and principles. This he saw, and this seemed to him to be
her sole object; but there he was inistaken. Off-handed as she
2 Feel it become sensible of it, know it.
:
3 Nor, than.
1 Fact.
1
3
2
*
1
THE ABSENTEE.
153
pretended to be, none dealt more in the impromptu fait à loisir ;
and, mentally short-sighted as she affected to be, none had more
longanimity for their own interest.
It was her settled purpose to make the Irish and Ireland
ridiculous and contemptible to Lord Colambre, to disgust him
with his native country, to make him abandon the wish of resid-
ing on his own estate. To confirm him an absentee was her
object, previously to her ultimate plan of marrying him to her
daughter. Her daughter was poor; she would therefore be glad
to get an Irish peer for her; but would be very sorry, she said,
to see Isabel banished to Ireland; and the young widow declared
she could never bring herself to be buried alive in Clonbrony
Castle.
In addition to these considerations, Lady Dashfort received
certain hints from Mrs. Petito which worked all to the same
point.
16
-
CC
Why, yes, my lady; I heard a great deal about all that
when I was at Lady Clonbrony's," said Petito one day as she
was attending at her lady's toilet, and encouraged to begin
chattering; and I own I was originally under the universal
error that Lord Colambre was to be married to the great heiress
Miss Broadhurst, but I have been converted and reformed on
that score, and am at present quite in another opinion."
Petito paused, in hopes that her lady would ask what was her
present opinion. But Lady Dashfort, certain that she would tell
her without being asked, did not take the trouble to speak,
particularly as she did not choose to appear violently interested
on the subject.
(6
My present opinion," resumed Petito, "is in consequence
of my having with my own eyes and ears witnessed and over-
heard his lordship's behaviour and words, the morning he was
coming away from Lunnun for Ireland; when he was morally
certain nobody was up, nor overhearing, nor overseeing him; there
did I notice him, my lady, stopping in the antechamber, ejacu-
lating over one of Miss Nugent's gloves which he had picked up.
'Limerick !' said he quite loud to himself; for it was a Limerick
glove, my lady. 'Limerick !-Dear Ireland! she loves you as well
as I do!" -or words to that effect; and then a sigh, and down-
stairs, and off. So, thinks I, now the cat's out of the bag. And
I wouldn't give much myself for Miss Broadhurst's chance of
that young lord, with all her bank-stock, scrip, and omnum.
Now I see how the land lies, and I'm sorry for it; for she's no
fortin, and she is so proud; she never hinted to me of the
matter but my lord Colambre is a sweet gentleman; and
*9
"Petito! don't run on so; you must not meddle with what
you don't understand. The Miss Killpatricks, to be sure, are
sweet girls, particularly the youngest."
}
1
154
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Her ladyship's toilet was finished; and she left Petito to go
down to my Lady Killpatrick's woman to tell, as a very great
secret, the schemes that were in contemplation among the higher
powers in favour of the youngest of the Miss Killpatricks.
"So Ireland is at the bottom of his heart, is it?" repeated
Lady Dashfort to herself; "it shall not be long so."
From this time forward, not a day, scarcely an hour passed,
but her ladyship did or said something to depreciate the country,
or its inhabitants, in our hero's estimation. With treacherous
ability she knew and followed all the arts of misrepresentation;
all those injurious arts which his friend Sir James Brooke had
with such honest indignation reprobated. She knew how not
only to seize the ridiculous points to make the most respectable
people ridiculous, but she knew how to select the worst instances,
the worst exceptions; and to produce them as examples, as
precedents, from which to condemn whole classes and establish
general false conclusions respecting a nation.
In the neighbourhood of Killpatrickstown, Lady Dashfort
said, there were several " squireens," or little squires; a race of
men who have succeeded to the "buckeens," described by Young
and Crumpe. Squireens are persons who, with good long leases
or valuable farms, possess incomes from three to eight hundred
a year; who keep a pack of hounds; take out a commission of
the peace, sometimes before they can spell (as her ladyship said),
and almost always before they know anything of law or justice.
Busy and loud about small matters; jobbers at assizes; com-
bining with one another, and trying upon every occasion, public
or private, to push themselves forward, to the annoyance of their
superiors and the terror of those below them.
In the usual course of things these men are not often to be
found in the society of gentry; except, perhaps, among those
gentlemen or noblemen who like to see hangers-on at their tables,
or who find it for their convenience to have underling magistrates,
to protect their favourites, or to propose and carry jobs for them
on grand juries. At election times, however, these persons rise
into sudden importance with all who have views upon the country.
Lady Dashfort hinted to Lord Killpatrick that her private
letters from England spoke of an approaching dissolution of
Parliament. She knew that, upon this hint, a round of invita-
tions would be sent to the squireens; and she was morally certain
that they would be more disagreeable to Lord Colambre, and
give him a worse idea of the country than any other people who
could be produced. Day after day some of these personages
made their appearance; and Lady Dashfort took care to draw
them out upon the subjects on which she knew that they would
show the most self-sufficient ignorance and the most illiberal
spirit. This succeeded beyond her most sanguine expectations.
THE ABSENTEÈ.
155
“Lord Colambre! how I pity you for being compelled to
these permanent sittings after dinner!" said Lady Isabel to him
one night when he came late to the ladies from the dining-
room.
Į
"Lord Killpatrick insisted upon my staying to help him to push
about that never-ending, still-beginning electioneering bottle,"
said Lord Colambre.
"Oh ! if that were all; if these gentlemen would only drink:
but their conversation!
"
"I don't wonder my mother dreads returning to Clonbrony
Castle, if my father must have such company as this.
surely it cannot be necessary.
But
""
CC
Oh, indispensable! positively indispensable!" cried Lady
Dashfort. "No living in Ireland without it. You know, in
every country in the world you must live with the people of
the country or be torn to pieces. For my part I should prefer
being torn to pieces."
Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel knew how to take advantage
of the contrast between their own conversation and that of the
persons by whom Lord Colambre was so justly disgusted. They
happily relieved his fatigue with wit, satire, poetry, and senti-
ment; so that he every day became more exclusively fond of their
company; for Lady Killpatrick and the Miss Killpatricks were
mere commonplace people. In the mornings he rode or walked
with Lady Dashfort and Lady Isabel : Lady Dashfort by way of
fulfilling her promise of showing him the people, used frequently
to take him into the cabins and talk to their inhabitants. Lord
and Lady Killpatrick, who had lived always for the fashionable
world, had taken little pains to improve the condition of their
tenants; the few attempts they had made were injudicious.
They had built ornamented, picturesque cottages within view
of their residence; and favourite followers of the family,
people with half a century's habit of indolence and dirt, were
promoted to these fine dwellings. The consequences were such
as Lady Dashfort delighted to point out: everything went to
ruin for the want of a moment's care, or was pulled to pieces for
the sake of the most surreptitious profit-the people most as-
sisted always appearing proportionally wretched and discon-
tented. No one could with more ease and more knowledge of
her ground than Lady Dashfort do the dishonours of a country.
In every cabin that she entered, by the first glance of her eye at
the head, kerchiefed in no comely guise, or by the drawn-down
corners of her mouth, or by the bit of a broken pipe, which in
Ireland never characterises stout labour, or by the first sound of
the voice, the drawling accent on your "honour," or "my
lady," she could distinguish the proper objects of her charitable
designs; that is to say, those of the old uneducated race, whom
M
1
"
156
STORIES OF IRELAND.
no one can help, because they will never help themselves. To
these she constantly addressed herself, making them give in all
their despairing tones a history of their complaints and griev-
ances; then asking them questions aptly contrived to expose
their habits of self-contradiction-their servility and flattery one
moment, and their litigious and encroaching spirit the next:
thus giving Lord Golambre the most unfavourable idea of the
disposition and character of the lower class of the Irish people.
Lady Isabel the while standing by, with the most amiable air
of pity, with expressions of the finest moral sensibility, soften-
ing all her mother said, finding ever some excuse for the poor
creatures, and following with angelic sweetness to heal the
wounds her mother inflicted.
When Lady Dashfort thought she had sufficiently worked
upon Lord Colambre's mind to weaken his enthusiasm for his
native country; and when Lady Isabel had, by the appearance
of every virtue, added to a delicate preference, if not partiality
for our hero, ingratiated herself into his good opinion and ob-
tained an interest in his mind, the wily mother ventured an attack
of a more decisive nature, and so contrived it was that if it
failed it should appear to have been made without design to
injure and in total ignorance.
One day Lady Dashfort, who in fact was not proud of her
family, though she pretended to be so, was prevailed upon,
though with much difficulty, by Lady Killpatrick to do the very
thing she wanted to do, to show her genealogy, which had been
beautifully blazoned, and which was to be produced in evidence
in the lawsuit that brought her to Ireland. Lord Colambre stood
politely looking on and listening while her Ladyship explained
the splendid intermarriages of her family, pointing to each me-
dallion that was filled gloriously with noble and even with royal
names, till at last she stopped short, and covering one medallion
with her finger, she said—
66
'Pass over that, dear Lady Killpatrick. You are not to see tliat,
Lord Colambre; that's a little blotch in our scutcheon. You
know, Isabel, we never talk of that prudent match of great
uncle John's. What could he expect by marrying into that
family, where you know all the men were not sans peur, and
none of the women sans reproche.'
CC
Oh, mamma!" cried Lady Isabel. "Not one exception ?"
Not one, Isabel," persisted Lady Dashfort. "There was Lady
and the other sister, that married the man with the long
nose; and the daughter again, of whom they contrived to make
an honest woman by getting her married in time to a blue
riband, and who contrived to get herself into Doctors' Commons
the very next year."
66
Well, dear mamma, that is enough, and too much. Oh!
(C
رد
"
"sive front the
:
4.
THE ABSENTEE.
157
pray don't go on," cried Lady Isabel, who had appeared very
much distressed during her mother's speech. "You don't know
what you are saying; indeed, ma'am, you don't."
"
Very likely, child; but that compliment I can return to you
on the spot and with interest, for you seem to me at this instant
not to know either what you are saying or what you are doing.
Come, come, explain."
(C
Oh, no; pray say no more. I will explain myself another
time."
66
Nay, there you are wrong, Isabel: in point of good breed-
ing anything is better than hints and mystery. Since I have
been so unlucky as to touch upon the subject, better go through
with it, and, with all the boldness of innocence, I ask the ques-
tion: Are you, my Lord Colambre, or are you not, related to or
connected with any of the St. Omars ?"
"Not that I know of," said Lord Colambre; "but I really am
so bad a gencalogist that I cannot answer positively."
"Then I must put the substance of my question into a new
form: Have you, or have you not, a cousin of the name of
Nugent ? "
“Miss Nugent ?—Grace Nugent? Yes," said Lord Colambre,
with as much firmness of voice as he could command, and with
as little change of countenance as possible; but as the question
came upon him so unexpectedly, it was not in his power to
answer with an air of absolute indifference and composure.
"And her mother was said Lady Dashfort.
""
C:
'My aunt, by marriage-her maiden name was Reynolds, I
think. She died when I was quite a child. I know very little
about her. I never saw her in my life; but I am certain she
was a Reynolds.”
CC
Oh, my dear lord," continued Lady Dashfort; "I am per-
fectly aware that she did take and bear the name of Reynolds;
but that was not her maiden name. Her maiden name was
But perhaps it is a family secret, that has been kept, for some
good reason, from you, and from the poor girl herself. The
maiden name was St. Omar, depend upon it. Nay, I would not
have told this to you, my lord, if I could have conceived that
it would affect you so violently," pursued Lady Dashfort, in a
tone of raillery; "you sec you are no worse off than we arc.
We have an intermarriage with the St. Omars. I did not think
you would be so much shocked at a discovery which proves that
our family and yours have some little connection."
Lord Colambre endeavoured to answer, and mechanically said
something about "happy to have the honour." Lady Dashfort,
truly happy to see that her blow had hit the mark so well, turned
from his Lordship without seeming to observe how seriously he
was affected; and Lady Isabel sighed, and looked with compas-
1
1
}
158
STORIES OF IRELAND.
sion on Lord Colambre, and then reproachfully at her mother.
But Lord Colambre heeded not her looks, and heard not of her
sighs; he heard nothing, saw nothing, though his eyes were in-
tently fixed on the genealogy, on which Lady Dashfort was still
descanting to Lady Killpatrick. He took the first opportunity
he could of quitting the room, and went for a solitary walk.
"There he is-departed, but not in peace, to reflect upon what
has been said," whispered Lady Dashfort to her daughter. "I
hope it will do him a vast deal of good."
"None of the women sans reproche! None! without one ex-
ception," said Lord Colambre to himself; "and Grace Nugent's
mother a St. Omar! Is it possible? Lady Dashfort seems certain.
She could not assert a positive falsehood; no motive. She does
not know that Miss Nugent is the person to whom I am attached
--she spoke at random. And I have heard it first from a stran-
ger: not from my mother. Why was it kept secret from me?
Now I understand the reason why my mother evidently never
wished that I should think of Miss Nugent-why she always
spoke so vehemently against the marriages of relations, of cousins,
Why not tell me the truth? It would have had the strongest
effect, had she known my mind."
Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any woman
whose mother had conducted herself ill. His reason, his preju-
dices, his pride, his delicacy, and even his limited experience,
were all against it. All his hopes, his plans of future happiness,
were shaken to their very foundation; he felt as if he had
received a blow that stunned his mind, and from which he could
not recover his faculties. The whole of that day he was like
one in a dream; at night the painful idea continually recurred
to bim; and whenever he was fallen asleep the sound of Lady
Dashfort's voice returned upon his ear, saying the words, "What
could he expect when he married one of the St. Omars? None
of the women sans reproche.”
In the morning he rose early, and the first thing he did was
to write a letter to his mother, requesting (unless there was
some important reason for her declining to answer the question)
that she would immediately relieve his mind from a great uneasi-
ness (he altered the word four times, but at last left it uneasi-
ness). He stated what he had heard, and besought his mother
to tell him the whole truth, without reserve.
LAUNCES
CHAPTER VIII.
ONE morning, Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious scheme
for leaving Lady Isabel and Lord Colambre tête-à-tête, but the
1
ì
THE ABSENTEE.
159
sudden entrance of Heathcock disconcerted her intentions. He
came to beg Lady Dashfort's interest with Count O'Halloran
for permission to hunt and shoot on his grounds next season.
Not for myself, 'pon honour, but for two officers who are
quartered at the next town here, who will indubitably hang or
drown themselves if they are debarred from sporting.'
"Who is this Count O'Halloran ?" said Lord Colambre.
Miss White, Lady Killpatrick's companion, said "he was a
great oddity;" Lady Dashfort, "that he was singular;" and the
clergyman of the parish, who was at breakfast, declared, "that
he was a man of uncommon knowledge, merit, and politeness.”
“All I know of him," said Heathcock, "ig, that he is a great
sportsman, with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and long skirts
to a laced waistcoat.'
>>
Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary per-
sonage; and Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and
perhaps thinking absence might be as effectual as too much pro-
pinquity, immediately offered to call upon the officers in their
way and carry them with Heathcock and Lord Colambre to
Halloran Castle.
Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with becom-
ing grace; and Major Benson and Captain Williamson were
taken to the count's. Major Benson, who was a famous whip,
took his seat on the box of the barouche; and the rest of the
party had the pleasure of her ladyship's conversation for three
or four miles. Of her ladyship's conversation-for Lord Col-
ambre's thoughts were far distant, Captain Williamson had not
anything to say, and Heathcock nothing but "Eh, re'lly now—
'pon honour!"
They arrived at Halloran Castle—a fine old building, part of
it in ruins, and part repaired with great judgment and taste.
When the carriage stopped, a respectable-looking man-servant
appeared on the steps, at the open hall-door.
Count O'Halloran was out fishing, but his servant said that
he would be at home immediately, if Lady Dashfort and the
gentlemen would be pleased to walk in.
On one side of the lofty and spacious hall stood the skeleton
of an elk; on the other side, the perfect skeleton of a moose-
deer, which, as the servant said, his master had made out with
great care from the different bones of many of this curious
species of deer found in the lakes in the neighbourhood. The
leash of officers witnessed their wonder with sundry strange
oaths and exclamations.
"Eh! 'pon honour-re'lly now!" said Heathcock; and too
genteel to wonder at or admire auything in the creation, dragged
out his watch with some difficulty, saying, "I wonder, now,
whether they are likely to think of giving us anything to eat in
1
3
1
160
STORIES OF IRELAND.
this place? And turning his back upon the moose-deer, he
straight walked out again upon the steps, called to his groom,
and began to make some inquiry about his led horse. Lord
Colambre surveyed the prodigious skeletons with rational curio-
sity, and with that sense of awe and admiration by which a
superior mind is always struck on beholding any of the great
works of Providence.
CC
""
"with our
Come, my dear lord!" said Lady Dashfort;
sublime sensations, we are keeping my old friend Mr. Ulick
Brady, this venerable person, waiting to show us into the recep-
tion-room.'
رو
The servant bowed respectfully-more respectfully than ser-
vants of modern date.
<<
My lady, the reception-room has been lately painted; the
smell of paint may be disagreeable: with your leave, I will take
the liberty of showing you into my master's study.
""
He opened the door, went in before her, and stood holding up
his finger, as if making a signal of silence to some one within.
Her ladyship entered, and found herself in the midst of an odd
assembly-an eagle, a goat, a dog, an otter, several gold and
silver fish in a glass globe, and a white mouse in a cage. The
eagle, quick of eye but quiet of demeanour, was perched upon
his stand; the otter lay under the table, perfectly harmless;
the Angora goat, a beautiful and remarkably little creature of
its kind, with long, curling, silky hair, was walking about the
room with the air of a beauty and a favourite; the dog, a tall
Irish greyhound-one of the few of that fine race, which is now
almost extinct-had been given to Count O'Halloran by an
Irish nobleman, a relation of Lady Dashfort's. This dog, which
had formerly known her ladyship, looked at her with ears erect,
recognised her, and went to meet her the moment she entered.
The servant answered for the peaceable behaviour of all the rest
of the company of animals, and retired. Lady Dashfort began
to feed the eagle from a silver plate on his stand; Lord Colambre
examined the inscription on his collar; the other men stood in
amaze. Heathcock, who came in last, astonished out of his
constant "Eh! re'lly now!" the moment he put himself in at
the door, exclaimed, "Zounds! what's all this live lumber ?".
and he stumbled over the goat, who was at that moment cross-
ing the way. The colonel's spur caught in the goat's curly
beard; the colonel shook his foot, and entangled the spur worse
and worse; the goat struggled and butted; the colonel skated
forward on the polished oak floor, balancing himself with out-
stretched arms.
The indignant eagle screamed, and passing by, perched on
Heathcock's shoulders. Too well-bred to have recourse to the
terrors of his beak, he scrupled not to scream, and flap his wings
ܠ ܥܩܞܐܥܫ
THE ABSENTEE.
161
about the colonel's ears. Lady Dashfort the while threw her-
self back in her chair, laughing, and begging Heathcock's
pardon. "Oh! take care of the dog, my dear colonel!" cried
she; "for this kind of dog seizes his enemy by the back, and
shakes him to death." The officers, holding their sides, laughed,
and begged-no pardon. Lord Colambre, the only person who
was not absolutely incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur,
and to liberate the colonel from the goat, and the goat from the
colonel; an attempt in which he at last succeeded, at the
expense of a considerable portion of the goat's beard. The
eagle, however, still kept his place; and yet mindful of the
wrongs of his insulted friend the goat, had stretched his wings
to give another buffet. Count O'Halloran entered; and the
bird, quitting his prey, flew down to greet his master. The
count was a fine old military-looking gentleman, fresh from
fishing. With his fishing accoutrements hanging carelessly
about him, he advanced, unembarrassed, to Lady Dashfort, and
received his other guests with a mixture of military ease and
gentlemanlike dignity.
Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation
in which he had found poor Heathcock, he apologised in general
for his troublesome favourites. For one of them," said he,
patting the head of the dog, which lay quiet at Lady Dashfort's
feet, "I see I have no need to apologise; he is where he ought
to be. Poor fellow! he has never lost his taste for the good com-
pany to which he was early accustomed. As to the rest," said
he, turning to Lady Dashfort, a mouse, a bird, and a fish are,
you know, tribute from earth, air, and water, to a conqueror."
CC
"But from no barbarous Scythian!" said Lord Colambre,
smiling. The count looked at Lord Colambre as at a person
worthy his attention; but his first care was to keep the peace
between his loving subjects and his foreign visitors. It was
difficult to dislodge the old settlers, and to make room for the
new comers; but he adjusted these things with admirable
facility, and with a master's hand and master's eye compelled
each favourite to retreat into the back settlements. With
becoming attention he stroked and kept his eagle, old Victory,
quiet, who eyed Colonel Heathcock still as if he did not like
him, and which the colonel eyed as if he wished his neck
fairly wrung off. The little goat had nestled himself close to
his liberator, Lord Colambre, and lay perfectly quiet with his
eyes closed, going very wisely to sleep, and submitting philoso-
phically to the loss of one-half of his beard. Conversation now
commenced, and was carried on by Count O'Halloran with
much ability and spirit, and with such quickness of discrimina-
tion and delicacy of taste as quite surprised and delighted our
hero. To the lady the count's attention was first directed. He
F
1
<\
I
162
STORIES OF IRELAND.
listened to her as she spoke, bending with an air of deference
and devotion. She made her request for permission for Major
Benson and Captain Williamson to hunt and shoot in his grounds
next season, which was instantly granted.
"Her ladyship's requests were to him commands," the count
said. "His gamekeeper should be instructed to give the gentle-
men, her friends, every liberty and all possible assistance."
Then turning to the officers, he said he had just heard that
several regiments of English militia had lately landed in Ireland;
that one regiment was at Killpatrickstown. He rejoiced in the
advantages Ireland, and he hoped he might be permitted to add
England, would probably derive from the exchange of the
militia of both countries; habits would be improved, ideas
enlarged. The two countries have the same interest; and from
the inhabitants discovering more of each other's good qualities,
and interchanging little good offices in common life, their
esteem and affection for each other would increase, and rest
upon the firm basis of mutual utility.
To all this Major Benson answered only, "We are not
militia officers."
"The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw," whispered
Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre, “and the captain so like the
knave of clubs, putting forth one manly leg."
Count O'Halloran now turned the conversation to field sports,
and then the captain and major opened at once.
66
Pray now, sir," said the major, "you have fox-hunting in
this country, I suppose; and do you manage the thing here as
we do ?
Over night, you know, before the hunt, when the fox
is out, stopping up the earths of the cover we mean to draw,
and all the rest, for four miles round. Next morning we assemble
at the cover's side, and the huntsman throws in the hounds. The
gossip here is no small part of the entertainment; but as soon as
we hear the hounds give tongue-————
"The favourite hounds," interposed Williamson.
"The favourite hounds, to be sure," continued Benson :
"there is a dead silence till pug is well out of cover, and the
whole pack well in: then cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till
your lungs crack. Away he goes in gallant style, and the whole
field is hard up, till pug takes a stiff country: then they who
haven't pluck lag, see no more of him, and with a fine blazing
scent there are but few of us in at the death."
CC
""
Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope," said Lady
Dashfort; "I was thrown out sadly at one time in the chase."
Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a book
in which the count's pencil lay, "Pasley on the Military Policy
of Great Britain; " it was marked with many notes of admiration,
and with hands pointing to remarkable passages.
}
163
THE ABSENTEE.
“That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind,”
said the count.
Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning
with, "All that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance
from a citizen is so trifling " But at this instant our hero's
attention was distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this
title of a chapter:
"Burial-place of the Nugents."
"Pray now, sir," said Captain Williamson, "if I don't inter-
rupt you, as you are such a famous fox-hunter, perhaps you are
a fisherman too; in Ireland do you, Mr.
A smart pinch on his elbow from the major, who stood behind
him, made the captain stop short as he pronounced the word
Mr. Like all awkward people, he turned directly to ask, by his
The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and stepping
before him, determined to have the fishing to himself, and went
on with-
J
""
"Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fishing too,
as well as hunting?
The count bowed: "I do not presume to say that, sir."
"But pray, count, in this country do you arm your hook this
ways. Give me leave"-taking the whip from Williamson's
reluctant hand-"this ways, laying the outermost part of your
feather this fashion, next to your hook, and the point next to
your shank, this wise, and that wise; and then, sir-count-you
take the hackle of a cock's neck.'
>>
A plover's topping's better," said Williamson.
“And work your gold and silver thread," pursued Benson,
up to your wings, and when your head's made, you fasten
all."
(C
"But you never showed how your head's made," interrupted
Williamson.
"The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man can
make a head, I suppose. So, sir, you fasten all."
"You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the world
stands," cried Williamson.
"Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and dozen,
captain; and then, Sir Count, you divide your wings with a
needle.
}
A pin's point would do," said Williamson.
The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian
cabinet which he had opened for the lady's inspection, a little
basket containing a variety of artificial flies, of curious con-
struction, which, as he spread them on the table, made William-
son and Benson's eyes almost sparkle with delight. There was
the dun-fly, for the month of March; and the stone-fly, much in
F 2
ABST
Y
pre spada, delegungsfart
1
164
STORIES OF IRELAND.
vogue for April; and the ruddy-fly, of red wool, black silk, and
red capon's feathers.
Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of the
Nugents, wished them all at the bottom of the sea.
"And the green-fly, and the moorish-fly!" cried Benson,
snatching them up with transport; "and chief, the sad-yellow
fly, in which the fish delight in June; the sad-yellow-fly, made
with the buzzard's wings, bound with black braked hemp; and
the shell-fly, for the middle of July, made of greenish wool,
wrapped about with the herle of a peacock's tail, famous for
creating excellent sport." All these and more were spread upon
the table before the sportsmen's wondering eyes.
66
Capital flies! capital, faith!" cried Williamson.
"Treasures, faith! real treasures, by G-!" cried Benson.
"Eh, 'pon honour! re'lly now," were the first words which
Heathcock had uttered since his battle with the goat.
66
My dear Heathcock, are you alive still?" said Lady Dash-
fort; "I had really forgotten your existence."
So had Count O'Halloran, but he did not say so.
"C
"Your ladyship has the advantage of me there," said Heath-
cock, stretching himself; "I wish I could forget my existence,
for, in my mind, existence is a horrible bore."
(
"I thought you was a sportsman," said Williamson.
66
"
Well, sir?
"And a fisherman ?"
Well, sir ?"
r
Why, look you there, sir," pointing to the flies, " and tell a
body life's a bore."
"One can't always fish or shoot, I apprehend," said Heath-
cock.
66
CC
"Not always-but sometimes," said Williamson, laughing;
"for I suspect shrewdly you've forgotten some of your sporting
in Bond Street."
"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now!" said the colonel, retreating
again to his safe entrenchment of affectation, from which he
never could venture without imminent danger.
""Pon honour," cried Lady Dashfort, "I can
I can swear for
Heathcock that I have eaten excellent hares and ducks of his
shooting, which, to my knowledge,” added she in a loud whisper,
he bought in the market."
66
Emptum oprum!" said Lord Colambre to the count, without
danger of being understood by those whom it concerned.
The count smiled a second time; but politely turning the
attention of the company from the unfortunate colonel by
addressing himself to the laughing sportsmen, "Gentlemen, you
seem to value these," said he, sweeping the artificial flies from
the table into the little basket from which they had been taken;
1
THE ABSENTEE.
165
"would you do me the honour of accepting them? They are
all of my own making, and consequently of Irish manufacture."
Then ringing the bell, he asked Lady Dashfort's permission to
have the basket put into her carriage.
Benson and Williamson followed the servant, to prevent them
from being tossed into the boot. Heathcock stood still in the
middle of the room, taking snuff.
Count O'Halloran turned from him to Lord Colambre, who
had just got happily to the burial-place of the Nugents, when
Lady Dashfort, coming between them and spying the title of
the chapter, exclaimed:
"What have you there? Antiquities! My delight! But I
never look at engravings when I can see realities.”
Lord Colambre was then compelled to follow, as she led the
way into the hall, where the count took down golden ornaments,
and brass-headed spears, and jointed horns of curious workman-
ship, that had been found on his estate; and he told of sperma-
ceti wrapped in carpets, and he showed small urns enclosing
ashes; and from among these urns he selected one which he
put into the hands of Lord Colambre, telling him that it had
been lately found in an old abbey-ground in his neighbourhood,
which had been the burial-place of some of the Nugent family.
"I was just looking at the account of it in the book which
you saw open on my table. As you seem to take an interest in
that family, my lord, perhaps," said the count, "you may think
this urn worth your acceptance."
Lord Colambre said, "It would be highly valuable to him, as
the Nugents were his near relations."
Lady Dashfort little expected this blow; she, however, carried
him off to the moose-deer, and from moose-deer to round towers,
to various architectural antiquities, and to the real and fabulous
history of Ireland; on all which the count spoke with learning
and enthusiasm. But now, to Colonel Heathcock's great joy and
relief, a handsome collation appeared in the dining-room, of
which Ulick opened the folding-doors.
(C
Count, you have made an excellent house of your castle,"
said Lady Dashfort.
"It will be, when it is finished," said the count; "I am
afraid,” added he smiling, "I live like many other Irish gentle-
men, who never are, but always to be, blessed with a good house.
I began upon too large a scale, and can never hope to live to
finish it."
'Pon honour! here's a good thing, which I hope we shall
live to finish," said Heathcock, sitting down before the collation;
and heartily did he eat of grouse-pie and of Irish ortolans,'
1 As it may be satisfactory to a large portion of the public-to all nuen
of taste the editor subjoins the following account of the Irish ortolan
1
Sp
166
STORIES OF IRELAND.
which, as Lady Dashfort observed, " afforded him indemnity for
the past and security for the future."
“Eh! re'lly now, your Irish ortolans are famous good eating,"
said Heathcock.
"Worth being quartered in Ireland, faith, to taste 'em," said
Benson.
The count recommended to Lady Dashfort some of “that
delicate sweetmeat, the Irish plum.'
,,
"Bless me, count! cried Williamson, "it's by far the best
thing of the kind I ever tasted in all my life. Where could you
get this ?"
"In Dublin-at my dear Mrs. Godey's; where only in his
majesty's dominions it is to be had," said the count.
The whole vanished in a few seconds.
"'Pon honour, I do believe this is the thing the queen's so
fond of," said Heathcock.
Then heartily did he drink of the count's excellent Hungarian
wines; and, by the common bond of sympathy between those
who have no other tastes but those of eating and drinking, the
colonel, the major, and the captain were now all the best com-
panions possible for one another.
Whilst "they prolonged the rich repast," Lady Dashfort
and Lord Colambre went to the window to admire the prospect.
Lady Dashfort asked the count the name of some distant hill.
"Ah," said the count, "that hill was once covered with fine
wood; but it was all cut down two years ago."
"Who could have been so cruel ?" said her ladyship.
"I forget the present proprietor's name," said the count;
"but he is one of those who, according to the clause of distress
in their leases, lead, drive, and carry away, but never enter
their lands; one of those enemies to Ireland-these cruel
absentees!
Lady Dashfort looked through her glass at the mountain.
Lord Colambre sighed, and, endeavouring to pass it off with
a smile, said frankly to the count :
""
which will convince the world that this bird is not in the class of fabulous
animals:
"There is a small bird, which is said to be peculiar to the Blasquet
Islands, called by the Irish Gourder,' the English name of which I am at
a loss for, nor do I find it mentioned by naturalists. It is somewhat larger
than a sparrow; the feathers of the back are dark, and those of the belly
are white; the bill is straight, short and thick, and it is web-footed-they
aro almost one lump of fat; when roasted of a most delicious taste, and are
reckoned to exceed an ortolan; for which reason the gentry hereabouts call
them the 'Irish ortolan.' These birds are worthy of being transmitted a
great way to market, for ortolans, it is well known, are brought from France
to supply the markets of London.”—Smith's Account of the County of Kerry,
P. 186.
参
​f
THE ABSENTEE.
167
"You are not aware, I am sure, count, that you are speaking
to the son of an Irish absentee family. Nay, do not be shocked,
my dear sir: I tell you only because I thought it fair to do so.
But let me assure you that nothing you could say on that subject
could hurt me personally, because I feel that I am not, that I
never can be, an enemy to Ireland. An absentee voluntarily I
never yet have been; and as to the future, I declare
"I declare you know nothing of the future," interrupted.
Lady Dashfort, in a half-peremptory, half-playful tone. "You
know nothing: make no rash vows, and you will break
none."
The undaunted assurance of Lady Dashfort's genius for
intrigue gave her an air of frank imprudence which prevented
Lord Colambre from suspecting that more was meant than met
the ear.
The count and he took leave of one another with
mutual regard; and Lady Dashfort rejoiced to have got our hero
out of Halloran Castle.
CHAPTER IX.
LORD COLAMBRE had waited with great impatience for an answer
to the letter of inquiry which he had written about Miss Nugent's
mother. A letter from Lady Clonbrony arrived. He opened it
with the greatest eagerness; passed over
"Rheumatism-warm weather-warm bath-Buxton balls-
Miss Broadhurst-your friend, Sir Arthur Berryl, very assidu-
ous!" The name of Grace Nugent he found at last, and read
as follows:-
"Her mother's maiden name was St. Omar; and there was a
faux pas certainly. She was, I am told (for it was before my
time), educated at a convent abroad: and there was an affair
with a Captain Reynolds, a young officer, which her friends were
obliged to hush up. She brought an infant to England with
her, and took the name of Reynolds, but none of that family
would acknowledge her. She lived in great obscurity till your
uncle Nugent saw her, fell in love with her, and (knowing her
whole history) married her. He adopted the child, gave her his
name, and after some years the whole story was forgotten.
Nothing could be more disadvantageous to Grace than to have
it revived: this is the reason we kept it secret."
Lord Colambre tore the letter to bits.
From the perturbation which Lady Dashfort saw in his
countenance she guessed the nature of the letter which he had
A
1
168
STORIES OF IRELAND.
been reading. and for the arrival of which he had been so im-
patient.
"It has worked!" said she to herself.
'Pour le coup,
Philippe, je te tiens!
Lord Colambre appeared this day more sensible than he had
ever yet seemed to the charms of the fair Isabel.
""
"Many a tennis-ball and many a heart is caught at the re-
bound," said Lady Dashfort. "Isabel, now is your time!"
And so it was; or so perhaps it would have been but for a cir-
cumstance which her ladyship, with all her genius for intrigue,
had never taken into consideration. Count O'Halloran came
to return the visit which had been paid to him; and in the course
of conversation he spoke of the officers who had been introduced
to him, and told Lady Dashfort that he had heard a report which
shocked him much-he hoped it could not be true-that one of
these officers had introduced his mistress as his wife to Lady
Oranmore, who lived in the neighbourhood. This officer, it was
said, had let Lady Oranmore send her carriage for this woman,
and that she had dined at Oranmore with her ladyship and her
daughters. 'But I cannot believe it! I cannot believe it to be
possible that any gentleman, that any officer, could do such a
thing!" said the count.
،،
"And is this all ?" exclaimed Lady Dashfort; "is this all the
terrible affair, my good count, which has brought your face to
this prodigious length ?"
The count looked at Lady Dashfort with astonishment.
"Such a look of virtuous indignation," continued she, “did
I never behold, on or off the stage. Forgive me for laughing,
count; but, believe me, comedy goes through the world better
than tragedy, and, take it all in all, does rather less mischief. As
to the thing in question, I know nothing about it. I dare say it
is not true; but now suppose it were, it is only a silly quiz of a
raw young officer upon a prudish old dowager. I know nothing
about it, for my part; but, after all, what irreparable mischief
has been done? Laugh at the thing, and then it is a jost-
a bad one, perhaps, but still only a jest-and there's an end of
it; but take it seriously, and there's no knowing where it might
end-probably in half-a-dozen duels."
"Of that, madam," said the count, "Lady Oranmore's pru-
dence and presence of mind have prevented all danger. Her
ladyship would not understand the insult. She said, or she acted
as if she said: 'Je ne veux rien voir, rien écouter, rien savoir.'
Lady Oranmore is one of the most respectable-
66
Count, I beg your pardon!" interrupted Lady Dashfort;
"but I must tell you that your favourite, Lady Oranmore, has
behaved very ill to me-purposely omitted to invite Isabel to
her ball-offended and insulted me. Her praises, therefore, can-
""
}
}
t
7
*
·
169
THE ABSENTEE.
not be the most agreeable subject of conversation you can choose
for my amusement; and as to the rest, you, who have such
variety and so much politeness, will, I am sure, have the good-
ness to indulge my caprice in this instance."
66
I shall obey your ladyship, and be silent, whatever pleasure
it might give me to speak on that subject," said the count.
"And I trust Lady Dashfort will reward me by the assurance
that, however playfully she may have just now spoken, she
seriously disapproves, and is shocked."
Oh, shocked!-shocked to
my dear count.”
CC
death!-if that will satisfy you,
The count obviously was not satisfied. He had civil as well
as military courage; and his sense of right and wrong could
stand against the railery and ridicule of a fine lady.
The conversation ended. Lady Dashfort thought it would
have no further consequences; and she did not regret the loss
of a man like Count O'Halloran, who lived retired in his castle,
and who could not have any influence upon the opinion of the
fashionable world. However, upon turning from the count to
Lord Colambre, who she thought had been occupied with Lady
Isabel, and to whom she imagined all this dispute was uninterest-
ing, she perceived by his countenance that she had made a great
mistake. Still she trusted that her power over Lord Colambre
was sufficient easily to efface whatever unfavourable impression
this conversation had made upon his mind. He had no personal
interest in the affair; and she had generally found that people
are easily satisfied about any wrong or insult, public or private,
in which they have no immediate concern. But all the charms
of her conversation were now tried in vain to reclaim him from
the reverie into which he had fallen.
His friend Sir James Brooke's parting advice occurred to our
hero. He began to understand Lady Dashfort's character; and
he was from this moment freed from her power. Lady Isabel,
however, had taken no part in all this-she was blameless; and
independently of her mother, and in pretended opposition of
sentiment, she might have continued to retain the influence she
had gained over Lord Colambre, but that a slight accident re-
vealed to him her real disposition.
It happened on the evening of this day that Lady Isabel
came into the library with one of the young ladies of the house,
talking very eagerly, without perceiving Lord Colambre, who
was sitting in one of the recesses reading.
"My dear creature, you are quite mistaken," said Lady Isabel,
"he was never a favourite of mine. I always detested him; I
only flirted with him to plague his wife. Oh, that wife! my dear
Elizabeth, I do hate," cried she, clasping her hands and ex-
pressing hatred with all her soul and with all her strength. "I
+
¿
170
STORIES OF IRELAND.
detest that Lady de Cressy to such a degree that, to purchase
the pleasure of making her feel the pangs of jealousy for one
hour, look, I would this moment lay down this finger and let it
be cut off."
The face, the whole figure of Lady Isabel at this moment
appeared to Lord Colambre suddenly metamorphosed. Instead
of the soft, gentle, amiable female, all sweet charity and tender
sympathy, formed to love and to be loved, he beheld one possessed
and convulsed by an evil spirit-her beauty, if beauty it could
be called, the beauty of a fiend. Some ejaculation, which he
unconsciously uttered, made Lady Isabel start. She saw him,
saw the expression of his countenance, and knew that all was
over.
Lord Colambre, to the utter astonishment and disappointment
of Lady Dashfort, and to the still greater mortification of Lady
Isabel, announced this night that it was necessary he should im-
mediately pursue his tour in Ireland. We pass over all the
castles in the air which the young ladies of the family had
built, and which now fell to the ground. We pass all the civil
speeches of Lord and Lady Killpatrick, all the vehement re-
monstrances of Lady Dashfort, and the vain sighs of Lady
Isabel. To the last moment Lady Dashfort said,
He will not go."
But he went, and when he was gone Lady Dashfort exclaimed,
That man has escaped from me." After a pause, turning to
her daughter, she in the most taunting and contemptuous terms
reproached her as the cause of this failure, concluding by a de-
claration that she must in future manage her own affairs, and
had best settle her mind to marry Heathcock, since every one
else was too wise to think of her.".
Lady Isabel of course retorted. But we leave this amiable
mother and daughter to recriminate in appropriate terms, and
we follow our hero, rejoiced that he has escaped from their snares.
Those who have never been in similar peril will wonder much
that he did not escape sooner; those who have ever been in like
danger will wonder more that he had escaped at all. They who
are best acquainted with the heart or imagination of man will
be most ready to acknowledge that the combined charms of
wit, beauty, and flattery, may for a time suspend the action of
right reason in the mind of the greatest philosopher, or operate
against the resolutions of the greatest of heroes.
Lord Colambre pursued his way to Halloran Castle, desirous,
before he quitted this part of the country, to take leave of the
count, who had shown him much civility, and for whose honour-
able conduct and generous character he had conceived a high
esteem, which no little peculiarities of antiquated dress or manner
could diminish. Indeed, the old-fashioned politeness of what
THE ABSENTEE.
171
was formerly called a well-bred gentleman pleased him better
than the indolent or insolent selfishness of modern men of the
ton. Perhaps, notwithstanding our hero's determination to
turn his mind from everything connected with the idea of Miss
Nugent, some latent curiosity about the burial-place of the
Nugents might have operated to make him call upon the count.
In this hope he was disappointed, for a cross miller, to whom
the abbey-ground was let on which the burial-place was found,
had taken it into his head to refuse admittance, and none could
enter his ground.
Count O'Halloran was much pleased by Lord Colambre's visit.
The very day of his arrival at Halloran Castle the count was
going to Oranmore; he was dressed and his carriage was waiting.
Lord Colambre begged that he might not detain him, and the
count requested his lordship to accompany him.
"Let me have the honour of introducing you, my lord, to a
family with whom I am persuaded you will be pleased, by whom
you will be appreciated, and at whose house you will have an
opportunity of seeing the best manner of living of the Irish
nobility."
Lord Colambre accepted the invitation, and was introduced at
Oranmore. The dignified appearance and respectable character
of Lady Oranmore, the charming, unaffected manners of her
daughters, the air of domestic happiness and comfort in her
family, the becoming magnificence, free from ostentation, in her
whole establishment, the respect and affection with which she
was treated by all who approached her, delighted and touched
Lord Colambre. He was perhaps the more pleased because he
had heard this family so unjustly abused, and because he saw
Lady Oranmore and her daughter in immediate contrast to Lady
Dashfort and Lady Isabel.
A little circumstance which occurred during this visit increased
his interest for the family. When Lady de Cressy's little boys
came in after dinner, one of them was playing with a seal which
had just been torn from a letter. The child showed it to Lord
Colambre, and asked him to read the motto. The motto was,
Deeds, not words "—his friend Sir James Brooke's motto and
his arms.
Lord Colambre eagerly inquired if the family were
acquainted with Sir James, and he soon perceived that they were
not only acquainted with him, but that they were particularly
interested about him.
(C
Lady Oranmore's second daughter, Lady Harriot, appeared
particularly pleased by the manner in which Lord Colambre
spoke of Sir James. And the child, who had now established
himself upon his lordship's knee, turned round and whispered
in his ear," "Twas Aunt Harriot gave me the seal; Sir James is
to be married to Aunt Harriot, and then he will be my uncle."
~
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Some of the principal gentry of this part of the country hap-
pened to dine at Oranmore during Lord Colambre's visit. He
was surprised at the discovery that there were so many agreeable,
well-informed and well-bred people, of whom, while he was at
Killpatrickstown, he had seen nothing. He now discerned how
far he had been deceived by Lady Dashfort.
Both the count and Lord and Lady Oranmore, who were
warmly attached to their country, exhorted him to make amends
for the time be had lost by seeing with his own eyes and judging
with his own understanding of the country and its inhabitants
during the remainder of the time he was to stay in Ireland.
The higher classes in most countries, they observed, were gene-
rally similar, but in the lower class he would find many charac-
teristic differences.
172
When he first came to Ireland he had been very eager to go
and see his father's estate, and to judge of the conduct of his
agents and the condition of his tenanty; but this eagerness
had subsided, and the design had almost faded from his mind,
whilst under the influence of Lady Dashfort's misrepresentations.
A mistake relative to some remittance from his banker in Dublin
obliged him to delay his journey a few days, and during that
time Lord and Lady Oranmore showed him the neat cottages
and well-attended schools in their neighbourhood. They showed
him not only what could be done, but what had been done, by
the influence of great proprietors residing on their own estates,
and encouraging the people by judicious kindness.
He saw, he acknowledged, the truth of this; but it did not
come home to his feelings now as it would have done a little
while ago. His views and plans were altered. He looked for-
ward to the idea of marrying and settling in Ireland, and then
everything in the country was interesting to him; but since he
had forbidden himself to think of a union with Miss Nugent his
mind had lost its object; he was not sufficiently calm to think of
the public good, his thoughts were absorbed by his private con-
cern. He knew and admitted that he ought to visit his own
and his father's estates and to see the condition of his tenantry;
he desired to fulfil his duties, but they ceased to appear to him
easy and pleasurable, for hope and love no longer brightened his
prospects.
That he might see and hear more than he could do as heir-
apparent to the estate, he sent his servant to Dublin to wait for
him there. He travelled incognito, wrapped himself in a shabby
greatcoat, and took the name of Evans. He arrived at a village,
or, as it was called, a town, which bore the name of Colambre.
He was agreeably surprised by the air of neatness and finish in
the houses and in the street, which had a nicely-swept paved
footway. He slept in a small but excellent inn-excellent,
}
*
{
፡
THE ABSENTEE.
173
perhaps, because it was small, and proportioned to the situation
and business of the place. Good supper, good bed, good attend-
ance; nothing out of repair; no things pressed into services for
which they were never intended by nature or art; none of what
are vulgarly called make-shifts. No chambermaid slipshod, or
waiter smelling of whisky; but everybody doing their own busi-
ness, and doing it as if it were their every-day occupation, not
as if it were done by particular desire for the first or last time
this season. The landlord came in at supper, to inquire whether
anything was wanted. Lord Colambre took this opportunity of
entering into conversation with him, and asked him to whom the
town belonged, and who were the proprietors of the neighbouring
estates.
"The town belongs to an absentee lord-one Lord Clonbrony,
who lives always beyond the seas, in London, and who had
never seen the town since it was worthy of the name.”
"And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this Lord
Clonbrony?'
'It does, sir; he is a great proprietor, but knows nothing of
his property, nor of us. Never set foot among us, to my know-
ledge, since I was as high as the table. He might as well be a
West India planter, and we negroes, for anything he knows to
the contrary--has no more care nor thought about us than if we
were in Jamaica or the other world. Shame for him! But
there's too many to keep him in countenance."
Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and then
inquired who managed the estate for this absentee.
"Mr. Burke, sir. And I don't know why God was so kind to
give so good an agent to an absentee like Lord Clonbrony, except
it was for the sake of us who is under him, and knows the
blessing, and is thankful for the same.”
CC
Very good cutlets," said Lord Colambre.
“I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be good, for
Mrs. Burke sent her own cook to teach my wife to dress cutlets."
(C
So the agent is a good agent, is he?"
"He is, thanks be to heaven! And that's what few can
boast, especially when the landlord's living over the seas.
We
have the luck to have got a good agent over us in Mr. Burke,
who is a right-bred gentleman. He has a snug little property
of his own, honestly made; with the good will and good wishes
and respect of all."
"Does he live in the neighbourhood?
"Just convanient.¹ At the end of the town; in the house on
the hill as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees about it,
all of his own planting, finely grown too-for there's a blessing
on all he does-and he has done a deal."
1 Convenient-near.
""
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"There's salad, sir, if you are partial to it. Very fine lettuce.
Mrs. Burke sent us the plants herself."
"Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great deal,
has he? In what way?"
"In every way, sir. Sure was it not he that had improved and
fostered and made the town of Colambre? No thanks to the pro-
prietor nor to the young man whose name it bears, neither.”
"Have you any porter, sir?
174
"We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you'd drink in London,
for it's the same you get there, I understand, from Cork. And
I have some of my own brewing, which, they say, you could not
tell the difference between it and Cork quality-if you'd be
pleased to try. Harry, the corkscrew."
The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be extremely
good; and the landlord observed it was Mr. Burke encouraged
him to learn to brew, and lent him his own brewer for a time
to teach him.
“Your Mr. Burke, I find, is apropos to porter, apropos to
salad, apropos to cutlets, apropos to everything," said Lord
Colambre, smiling. "He seems to be a very uncommon agent.
I suppose you are a great favourite of his, and you do what you
please with him."
"Oh no, sir; I could not say that. Mr. Burke does not have
favourites any way; but, according to my deserts, I trust I stand
well enough with him, for in truth he is a right good agent."
Lord Colambre still pressed for particulars; he was an English-
man and a stranger, he said, and did not exactly know what was
meant in Ireland by a good agent.
"Why, he is the man that will encourage the improving
tenant, and show no favour or affection, but justice, which
comes even to all, and does best for all at the long run. Residing
always in the country, as Mr. Burke does, and understanding
county business, and going about continually among the
tenantry, he knows when to press for the rent, and when to
leave the money to lay out upon the land; and, according as
they would want it, can give a tenant a help or a check properly.
Then no duty-work called for, no presents, nor glove-money,
nor sealing-money even, taken or offered; no underhand hints
about proposals when land would be out of lease; but a con-
siderable preference, if desarved, to the old tenant, and if not, a
fair advertisement, and the best offer and tenant accepted. No
screwing of the land to the highest penny, just to please the
head landlord for the minute, and ruin him at the end, by the
tenants racking the land and running off with the year's rent;
nor no bargains to his own relations or friends did Mr. Burke
ever give or grant, but all fair between landlord and tenant; and
that's the thing that will last: and that's what I call the good
agent."
1
Į
I
{
-
THE ABSENTEE.
175
Lord Colambre poured out a glass of wine, and begged the
innkeeper to drink the good agent's health, in which he was
heartily pledged. "I thank your honour. Mr. Burke's health;
and long may he live over and amongst us. He saved me from
drink and ruin when I was once inclined to it, and made a man
of me and all my family."
The particulars we cannot stay to detail. This grateful man,
however, took pleasure in sounding the praises of his benefactor,
and in raising him in the opinion of the traveller.
"As you've time, and are curious about such things, sir,
perhaps you'd walk up to the school that Mrs. Burke has for
the poor children; and look at the market-house, and see how
clean he takes a pride to keep the town; and any house in the
town, from the priest to the parson's, that you'd go into, will
give you the same character as I do of Mr. Burke; from the
brogue to the boot, all speak the same of him, and can say no
other. God for ever bless him, and keep him over us!"
Upon making further inquiries, everything the innkeeper had
said was confirmed by different inhabitants of the village. Lord
Colambre conversed with the shopkeepers, with the cottagers;
and without making any alarming inquiries, he obtained all the
information he wanted, He went to the village school-a pretty
cheerful house, with a neat garden and a play-green; met Mrs.
Burke; introduced himself to her as a traveller. The school
was shown to him. It was just what it ought to be-neither
too much nor too little had been attempted; there was neither
too much interference nor too little attention. Nothing for ex-
hibition; care to teach well, without any vain attempt to teach
in a wonderfully short time. All that experience proves to be
useful in both Dr. Bell's and Mr. Lancaster's modes of teaching
Mrs. Burke had adopted, leaving it to "graceless zealots" to
fight about the rest. That no attempts at proselytism had been
made, and that no illiberal distinctions had been made in his
school, Lord Colambre was convinced, in the best manner pos-
sible, by seeing the children of Protestants and Catholics sitting
on the same benches, learning from the same books, and speak-
ing to one another with the same cordial familiarity. Mrs.
Burke was an unaffected, sensible woman, free from all party
prejudices, and, without ostentation, desirous and capable of
doing good. Lord Colambre was much pleased with her, and
very glad that she invited him to tea.
Mr. Burke did not come in till late, for he had been detained
portioning out some meadows, which were of great consequence
to the inhabitants of the town. He brought home to tea with
him the clergyman and the priest of the parish, both of whom he
had taken successful pains to accommodate with the land which
suited them. The good terms on which they seemed to be with
each other, and with him, appeared to Lord Colambre to do
?
t
KARAJA VANC
}
}
176
STORIES OF IRELAND.
'
honour to Mr. Burke. All the favourable accounts his lordship
had received of this gentleman were confirmed by what he saw
and heard. After the clergyman and priest had taken leave,
upon Lord Colambre's expressing some surprise, mixed with
satisfaction, at seeing the harmony which subsisted between
them, Mr. Burke assured him that this was the same in many
parts of Ireland. He observed that, as the suspicion of ill-
will never fails to produce it," so he had often found that, taking
it for granted that no ill-will exists, has the most conciliating
effect. He said, to please opposite parties, he used no arts; but
he tried to make all his neighbours live comfortably together,
by making them acquainted with each other's good qualities; by
giving them opportunities of meeting sociably, and from time
to time of doing each other little services and good offices.
"Fortunately, he had so much to do," he said, "that he had no
time for controversy. He was a plain man, made it a rule not
to meddle with speculative points, and to avoid all irritating
discussions; he was not to rule the country, but to live in it,
and make others live as happily as he could."
Having nothing to conceal in his character, opinions, or cir-
cumstances, Mr. Burke was perfectly open and unreserved in his
manner and conversation; freely answered all the traveller's
inquiries, and took pains to show him everything he desired to
see. Lord Colambre said he had thoughts of settling in Ireland;
and declared, with truth, that he had not seen any part of the
country he should like better to live in than this neighbourhood.
He went over most of the estate with Mr. Burke, and had ample
opportunities of convincing himself that this gentleman was
indeed, as the innkeeper had described him, "a right good.
gentleman, and a right good agent."
He paid Mr. Burke some just compliments on the state of the
tenantry, and the neat and flourishing appearance of the town
of Colambre.
"What pleasure it will give the proprietor when he sees all
you have done!" said Lord Colambre.
CC
Oh, sir, don't speak of it! That breaks my heart. He never
has shown the least interest in anything I have done; he is quite
dissatisfied with me because I have not ruined his tenantry by
forcing them to pay more than the land is worth; because I have
not squeezed money from them by fining down rents; and—
but all this, as an Englishman, sir, must be unintelligible to you.
The end of the matter is, that, attached as I am to this place and
the people about me, and, as I hope, the tenantry are to me,
fear I shall be obliged to give up the agency."
Give up the agency! How so? You must not," cried Lord
Colambre; and for the moment he forgot himself. But Mr.
Burke took this only for an expression of good-will.
THE ABSENTEE.
177
(C
"I must, I am afraid," continued he. 'My employer, Lord
Clonbrony, is displeased with me-continual calls for money
come upon me from England, and complaints of my slow remit-
tances.'
CC
Perhaps Lord Clonbrony is in embarrassed circumstances,'
said Lord Colambre.
97
66
I never speak of my employer's affairs, sir," replied Mr.
Burke, now for the first time assuming an air of reserve.
"I beg pardon; I seem to have asked an indiscreet question."
Mr. Burke was silent.
"Lest my reserve should give you a false impression, I will
add, sir," resumed Mr. Burke, "that I really am not acquainted
with the state of his lordship's affairs in general. I know only
what belongs to the estate under my own management. The
principal part of his lordship's property, the Clonbrony estate,
is under another agent, Mr. Garraghty.
(6
"
Garraghty!" repeated Lord Colambre. "What sort of a
person is he? But I may take it for granted that it cannot fall
to the lot of one and the same absentee to have two such agents
as Mr. Burke."
Mr. Burke bowed, and seemed pleased with the compliment,
which he knew he deserved. But not a word did he say of Mr.
Garraghty; and Lord Colambre, afraid of betraying himself by
some other indiscreet question, changed the conversation.
The very next post brought a letter to Mr. Burke from Lord
Clonbrony, which he gave to his wife as soon as he had read it,
saying:
"See the reward of all my services!"
Mrs. Burke glanced her eye over the letter, and, being ex-
tremely fond of her husband, and sensible of his deserving far
different treatment, burst into indignant exclamations:
"See the reward of all your services, indeed! What an un-
reasonable, ungrateful man! So, this is the thanks for all you
have done for Lord Clonbrony !"
"He does not know what I have done, my dear. He never
has seen what I have done."
"More shame for him!
"He never, I suppose, looks over his accounts, or understands
them."
46
""
More shame for him!
"He listens to foolish reports, or misrepresentations, perhaps.
He is at a distance, and cannot find out the truth."
"More shame for him!
"Take it quietly, my dear; we have the comfort of a good
conscience. The agency may be taken from me by this lord,
but the sense of having done my duty no lord or man upon
earth can give or take away.'
>>
178
STORIES OF IRELAND.
“Such a letter!" said Mrs. Burke, taking it up again. "Not
even the civility to write with his own hand!-only his signa-
ture to the scrawl-looks as if it had been written by a drunken
man, does it not, Mr. Evans ?" said she, showing the letter to
Lord Colambre, who immediately recognised the writing of Sir
Terence O'Fay.
"It does not look like the hand of a gentleman, indeed,” said
Lord Colambre.
CL
It has Lord Clonbrony's own signature, let it be what it
will," said Mr. Burke, looking closely at it; "Lord Clonbrony's
own writing the signature is, I am clear of that.”
Lord Clonbrony's son was clear of it also, but he took care
not to give any opinion on that point.
"Oh, pray, read it, sir-read it," said Mrs. Burke; "read it,
pray. A gentleman may write a bad hand, but no gentleman
could write such a letter as that to Mr. Burke. Pray, read it,
sir-you who have seen something of what he has done for the
town of Colambre, and what he has made of the tenantry and
the estate of Lord Clonbrony."
Lord Colambre read, and was convinced that his father
had never written or read the letter, but had signed it,
trusting to Sir Terence O'Fay's having expressed his sentiments
properly:-
“SIR,—As I have no further occasion for your services, you
will take notice that I hereby request you will forthwith hand
over, on or before the first of November next, your accounts, with
the balance due of the hanging-gale (which, I understand, is
more than ought to be at this season), to Nicholas Garraghty,
Esq., College Green, Dublin, who in future will act as agent, and
shall get by post immediately a power of attorney for the same,
cntitling him to receive and manage the Colambre as well as the
Clonbrony estate for,
66
Sir, your obedient, humble servant,
"CLONBRONY.
"Grosvenor Square."
Though misrepresentation, caprice, or interest might have
induced Lord Clonbrony to desire to change his agent, yet Lord
Colambre knew that his father never could have announced his
wishes in such a style. As he returned the letter to Mrs. Burke
he repeated he was convinced that it was impossible that any
nobleman could have written such a letter, that it must have
been written by some inferior person, and that his lordship had
signed it without reading it.
66
My dear, I'm sorry you showed that letter to Mr. Evans,'
said Mr. Burke; "I don't like to expose Lord Clonbrony. He
is a well-meaning gentleman, misled by ignorant or designing
people; at all events, it is not for us to expose him."
}
THE ABSENTEE.
179
"He has exposed himself," said Mrs. Burke, "and the world
should know it."
ઃઃ
"He was very kind to me when I was a young man,” said
Mr. Burke; we must not forget that now, because we are
angry, my love."
66
Why, no, my love, to be sure we should not; but who could
have recollected it just at this minute but yourself? And now,
sir," turning to Lord Colambre, " you see what kind of a man
this is now, is it not difficult for me to bear patiently to see him
ill treated?
:
""
"Not only difficult, but impossible, I should think, madam,'
said Lord Colambre. "I know, even I, who am a stranger,
cannot help feeling for both of you, as you must see I do."
"But half the world, who don't know him," continued Mrs.
Burke, "when they hear that Lord Clonbrony's agency is taken
from him, will think perhaps that he is to blame.
"No, madam," said Lord Colambre, "of that you need not
fear; Mr. Burke may safely trust to his character. From what I
have seen and heard within these two days, I am convinced that
such is the respect he has deserved and acquired that no blame
can touch him.
66
">
25
Sir, I thank you," said Mrs. Burke, the tears coming into
her eyes.
"You can judge-you do him justice; but there are
so many who don't know him, and who will decide without
knowing any of the facts."
(C
That, my dear, happens about everything, to everybody,"
said Mr. Burke; "but we must have patience-time sets all
judgments right, sooner or later.'
"But the sooner the better," said Mrs. Burke. "Mr. Evans,
I hope you will be so kind, if ever you hear this business talked
of-
"Mr. Evans lives in Wales, my dear."
"But he is travelling through Ireland, my dear, and he said
he should return to Dublin, and, you know, there he certainly
will hear it talked of; and I hope he will do me the favour to
state what he has seen and knows to be the truth."
"Be assured that I will do Mr. Burke justice, as far as it is in
my power," said Lord Colambre, restraining himself that he
might not say more than became his assumed character. He
took leave of this worthy family that night, and early the next
morning departed.
"Ah!" thought he, as he drove away from this well-regulated
and flourishing place, "how happy I might be settled here, with
such a wife as-her of whom I must think no more.”
He pursued his way to Clonbrony, his father's other estate,
which was at a considerable distance from Colambre. He was
resolved to know what kind of agent Mr. Nicholas Garraghty
3
180
STORIES OF IRELAND.
might be, who was to supersede Mr. Burke, and by power of
attorney to be immediately entitled to receive and manage the
Colambre as well as the Clonbrony estate.
CHAPTER X.
TOWARDS the evening of the second day's journey the driver of
Lord Colambre's hackney chaise stopped, and, jumping off the
wooden bar on which he had been seated, exclaimed:
"We're come to the bad part now. The bad road's beginning
upon us, plase your honour.'
"Bad road! That is very uncommon in this country. I never
saw such fine roads as you have in Ireland.”
"That's true, and God bless your honour that's sensible of
that same; for it is not what all the foreign quality I drive
have the manners to notice. God bless your honour! I heard
you're a Welshman; but whether or no, I am sure you are a
gentleman anyway, Welsh or other."
Notwithstanding the shabby greatcoat, the shrewd postillion
perceived by our hero's language that he was a gentleman.
After much dragging at the horses' heads, and pushing and lift-
ing, the carriage was got over what the postillion said was the
worst part of "the bad step; but as the road was not yet to
say good,” he continued walking beside the carriage.
"J
CC
"It's only bad just hereabouts, and that by accident," said
he, on account of there being no jantleman resident in it, nor
near; but only a bit of an under-agent, a great little rogue, who
gets his own turn out of the roads and everything else in life.
Ï, Larry Brady, that am telling your honour, have a good right to
know; for myself, and my father, and my brother Pat Brady,
the wheelwright, had once a farm under him, but was ruined-
horse and foot, all along with him-and cast out; and my brother
forced to fly the country, and is now working in some coach-
maker's yard in London, banished he is; and here am I, forced
to be what I am. And now that I'm reduced to drive a hack, the
agent's a curse to me still, with these bad roads killing my horses
and wheels, and a shame to the country, which I think more of
-bad luck to him!"
"I know your brother; he lives with Mr. Mordicai in Long
Acre, in London."
CC
Oh, God bless you for that!
They came at this time within view of a range of about four
and twenty men and boys, sitting astride on four and twenty
heaps of broken stones on each side of the road; they were all
""
THE ABSENTEE.
181
armed with hammers, with which they began to pound with great
diligence and noise as soon as they saw the carriage. The
chaise passed between these batteries, the stones flying on all
sides.
"How are you, Jem? How are you, Phil?” said Larry.
"But hold your hand, can't ye, while I stop and get the stones
out of the horses' feet. So you're making up the rent, are you,
for St. Dennis ? "
66
Whoosh!" said one of the pounders, coming close to the
postillion, and pointing his thumb back towards the chaise.
"Who have you in it?'
(6
Oh, you need not scruple, he's a very honest man; he's only
a man from North Wales, one Mr. Evans, an innocent jantleman
that's sent over to travel up and down the country to find is
there any copper-mines in it."
"How do you know, Larry?
'Because I know very well from one that was tould, and I
seen him tax the man of the King's Head' with a copper half-
crown at first sight, which was only lead to look at, you'd think,
to them that was not skilful in copper. So lend me a knife till
I cut a linchpin out of the hedge, for this one won't go far."
Whilst Larry was making the linchpin, all scruple being
removed, his question about St. Dennis and the rent was
answered.
""
C
Ay, it's the rint, sure enongh, we're pounding out for him;
for he sent the driver round, last night was eight days, to warn
us Old Nick would be down a' Monday to take a sweep among
us; and there's only six clear days, Saturday night, before
the assizes, sure; so we must see and get it finished anyway
to clear the presentment again' the swearing day, for he and
Paddy Hart is the overseers themselves, and Paddy is to swear
to it."
"St. Dennis, is it? Then you've one great comfort and se-
curity that he won't be particular about the swearing, for
since ever he had his head on his shoulders an oath never
stuck in St. Dennis's throat more than in his own brother, Old
Nick's.
""
CC
'His head upon his shoulders!" repeated Lord Colambre.
"Pray, did you ever hear that St. Dennis's head was off his
shoulders ?"
It never was, plase your honour, to my knowledge."
Did
you never, among your saints, hear of St. Dennis carry-
ing his head in his hand ?" said Lord Colambre.
+6
The rale saint!" said the postillion, suddenly changing his
tone and looking shocked. "Oh, don't be talking that way of
the saints, plase your honour."
"Then of what St. Dennis were you talking just now ?
-
+
STORIES OF IRELAND.
OF
182
Whom do you mean by St. Dennis, and whom do you call old
Nick ? "
"Old Nick," answered the postillion, coming close to the side
of the carriage and whispering-" Old Nick, plase your honour,
is our nickname for one Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., of College
Green, Dublin; and St. Dennis is his brother Dennis, who is Old
Nick's brother in all things, and would fain be a saint, only he's a
sinner. He lives just by here in the country, under-agent to Lord
Clonbrony, as Old Nick is upper-agent. It's only a joke among
the people, that are not fond of them at all. Lord Clonbrony
himself is a very good jantleman, if he was not an absentee,
resident in London, leaving us and everything to the likes of
them."
Lord Colambre listened with all possible composure and atten-
tion; but the postillion having now made his linchpin of wood
and fixed himself, he mounted his bar, and drove on, saying to
Lord Colambre as he looked at the roadmakers:
"Poor craturs! They couldn't keep their cattle out of
pound or themselves out of jail but by making this road."
“Is roadmaking then a very profitable business? Have road-
makers higher wages than other men in this part of the country ?"
"It is, and it is not. They have and they have not, plase
your honour."
??
(C
I don't understand you! !'
"No, beca-ase you're an Englishman-that is, a Welshman-
I beg your honour's pardon. But I'll tell you how that is,
and I'll go slow over these broken stones, for I can't go fast.
It is where there's no jantleman over these under-agents, as here,
they do as they plase; and when they have set the land, they get
rasonable from the head landlords, to poor cratures at a rack-
rent, that they can't live and pay the rent, they say—'
""
,
"Who says?'
"Them under-agents that have no conscience at all. Not all,
but some, like Dennis, says, says he, 'I'll get you a road to
make up the rent:
the rent that is, plase your honour, the agent gets
them a presentment for so many perches of road from the grand
jury at twice the price that would make the road. And tenants
are by this means, as they take the road by contract at the price
given by the county, able to pay all they get by the job, over
and above potatoes and salt, back again to the agent, for the
arrear on the land. Do I make your honour sensible ?
"" ]
66
You make me much more sensible than I ever was before,"
said Lord Colambre: "but is not this cheating the county ?"
66
""
Well, and suppose," replied Larry, "is it not all for my
good, and yours too, plase your honour ? said Larry, looking
very shrewdly.
1 Do I make you understand?
7
*
THE ABSENTEE.
"My good!" said Lord Colambre, startled.
to do with it ? "
"Haven't you to do with the roads as well as me when you're
travelling upon them, plase your honour? And sure, they'd never
be got made at all if they weren't made this way; and it's the
best way in the wide world, and the finest roads we have. And
when the rale jantleman's resident in the country, there's no
jobbing can be, because they're then the leading men on the
grand jury; and these journeymen jantlemen are then kept in
order, and all's right.'
""
183
"What have I
Lord Colambre was much surprised at Larry's knowledge of
the manner in which county business is managed, as well as by
his shrewd good sense. He did not know that this is not uncom-
mon in his rank of life in Ireland.
Whilst Larry was speaking Lord Colambre was looking from
side to side at the desolation of the prospect.
"So this is Lord Clonbrony's estate, is it?
CC
""
Ay, all you see, and as far and farther than you can see. My
Lord Clonbrony wrote and ordered plantations here some time
back, and enough was paid to labourers for ditching and planting.
And what next Why, what did the under agent do, but let
the goats in through gaps, left o' purpose, to bark the trees, and
then the trees was all banished. And next the cattle was let in
trespassing, and winked at, till the land was all poached; and
then the land was waste, and cried down; and Saint Dennis
wrote up to Dublin to Old Nick, and he over to the landlord,
how none would take it, or bid anything at all for it. So then
it fell to him a cheap bargain. Oh, the tricks of them! Who
knows 'em if I don't? "
Presently Lord Colambre's attention was roused again by seeing
a man running as if for his life across a bog, near the roadside.
He leaped over the ditch, and was upon the road in an instant.
He seemed startled at first at the sight of the carriage; but
looking at the postillion, Larry nodded; and he smiled and
said:
>>
"All's safe!
"Pray, my good friend, may I ask what that is you have on
your shoulder " said Lord Colambre.
"Plase your honour, it is only a private still, which I've just
caught out yonder in the bog; and I'm carrying it in with
all speed to the gauger, to make a discovery, that the jantle-
man may benefit by the reward. I expect he'll make me a
compliment."
"Get up behind, and I'll give you a lift," said the postillion.
"Thank you kindly, but better my legs!" said the man;
and turning down a lane, off he ran again as fast as possible.
"Expect he'll make me a compliment! "repeated Lord
Colambre, "to make a discovery."
Stay
I
ľ
I
<
}
184
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Ay, plase your honour; for the law is," said Larry, "that
if an unlawful still-that is, a still without license for whisky,
-is found, half the benefit of the fine that's put upon the
parish goes to him that made the discovery. That's what that
man is after, for he's an informer."
**
I should not have thought, from what I see of you," said
Lord Colambre, smiling, "that you, Larry, would have offered
an informer a lift."
"Oh, plase your honour," said Larry, smiling archly, “would
not I give the laws a lift when in my power ?"
Scarcely had he uttered these words, and scarcely was the
informer out of sight, when, across the same bog and over the
ditch, come another man-a half kind of gentleman, with a red
silk handkerchief about his neck, and a silver-handled whip in
his hand.
"Did you see any man pass the road, friend?” said he to the
postillion.
"Oh! who would I see, or why would I tell?" replied
Larry in sulky tone.
CC
Come, come, be smart!" said the man with the silver whip,
offering to put half-a-crown into the postillion's hand; "point
me which way he took."
"I'll have none o' your silver!-don't touch me with it!" said
Larry. "But if you'll take my advice, you'll strike across back,
and follow the fields, out to Killogenesawee."
The exciseman set out again immediately in an opposite
direction to that which the man who carried the still had taken.
Lord Colambre now perceived that the pretended informer had
been running off to conceal a still of his own.
"The gauger, plase your honour," said Larry, looking back
at Lord Colambre, "the gauger is a still-hunting!
""
"And you put him ou a wrong scent!" said Lord Colambre.
،،
Sure I told him no lie; I only said, 'If you'll take my
advice.' And why was he such a fool as to take my advice wheu
I wouldn't take his fee ?"
""
"So this is the way, Larry, you give a lift to the laws!
"If the laws would give a lift to me, plase your honour,
maybe I'd do as much by them. But it's only these revenue
laws I mean; for I never to my knowledge broke another com-
mandment. It's what no honest poor man among his neighbours
would scruple to take-a glass of potsheen."
"A glass of what, in the name of heaven ?" said Lord
Colambre.
"Potsheen, plase your honour; becaase it's the little whisky
that's made in the private still or pot; and sheen, because it's a
fond word for whatsoever we'd like, and for what we have little
of and would make much of. After taking the glass of it, no
}
<*X
C
►
THE ABSENTEE.
185
man could go and inform to ruin the craturs; for they all
shelter on that estate under favour of them that go shares and
make rent of 'em; but I'd never inform again' 'em. And, after
all, if the truth was known, and Lord Clonbrony should be
informed against, and presented, for it is his neglect is the
bottom of the nuisance
در
"I find all the blame is thrown upon this poor Lord Clon-
brony," said Lord Colambre.
<<
Becaase he is absent," said Larry.
"It would not be so
was he prisint. But your honour was talking to me about the
laws. Your honour's a stranger in this country, and astray
about them things. Sure, why would I mind the laws about
whisky more than the quality or the jidge on the bench ?”
“What do you mean?"
66
Why, was I not prisint in the court-house myself, when the
jidge was on the bench judging a still, and across the court came
in one with a sly jug of potsheen for the jidge himself, who pre-
farred it, when the right thing, to claret; and when I seen that,
by the laws! a man might talk himself dumb to me after again'
potsheen, or in favour of the revenue or revenue officers. And
there they may go on with their gaugers, and their surveyors,
and their supervisors, and their watching officers, and their
coursing officers, setting 'em one after another, or one over the
head of another, or what way they will; we can baffle and
laugh at 'em. Didn't I know, next door to our inn, last year,
ten watching officers set upon one distiller, and he was too
cunning for them; and it will always be so while ever the
people think it no sin. No; till then not all their dockets and
permits signify a rush or a turf. And the gauging-rod even,
who fears it? They may spare that rod, for it will never mend
the child."
How much longer Larry's dissertation on the distillery laws
would have continued had not his ideas been interrupted, we
cannot guess; but he saw he was coming to a town, and he
gathered up the reins and plied the whip, ambitious to make a
figure in the eyes of its inhabitants.
This town consisted of oue row of miserable huts, sunk
beneath the side of the road, the mud walls crooked in every
direction; some of them opening in wide cracks or zigzag
fissures, from top to bottom, as if there had just been an earth-
quake. All the roofs were sunk in various places; the thatch
was off, or overgrown with grass. There were no chimneys, the
smoke making its way through a hole in the roof, or rising in
clouds from the top of the open door. Dunghills stood before
the doors, and green standing puddles; and squalid children,
with scarcely rags to cover them, gazing at the carriage.
**
"Nugent's town," said the postillion ; once a snug place
4
+
E
186
STORIES OF IRELAND.
when my Lady Clonbrony was at home to whitewash it, and the
like."
As they drove by, some men and women put their heads
through the smoke out of the cabins: pale women, with long
black or yellow locks; men with countenances and figures
bereft of hope and energy.
"for my
"Wretched, wretched people!" said Lord Colambre.
"Then it's not their fault neither," said Larry;
uncle's one of them; and as thriving and hard a working man
as could be in all Ireland he was afore he was tramped under
foot, and his heart broke. I was at his funeral, this time last
year; and for it may the agent's own heart, if he has any,
buru-
""
Lord Colambre interrupted this denunciation by touching
Larry's shoulder, and asking some question, which, as Larry
did not distinctly comprehend, he pulled up the reins, and the
vehicle suddenly stopped.
CC
'I did not hear well, plase your honour."
"What are those people ?" said Lord Colambre, pointing to a
man and woman, curious figures, who had come out of a cabin,
the door of which the woman, who came out last, locked. She
then carefully hid the key in the thatch, turned her back upon
the man, and they walked away in different directions. The
woman was bending under a huge bundle on her back, covered
by a yellow petticoat turned over her shoulders; from the top
of this bundle the head of an infant appeared; a little boy,
almost naked, followed her with a kettle, and two girls,
one of whom could but just walk, held her hand and clung
to her ragged petticoat; forming, all together, a complete
group of beggars. The woman stopped and looked after the
man.
The man was a Spanish-looking figure, with grey hair, a wallet
hung at the end of a stick over one shoulder, a reaping-hook in
the other hand. He walked off stoutly, without ever casting a
look behind him.
"A kind harvest to you, John Dolan," cried the postillion,
"and success to ye, Winny, with the quality. There's a luck-
penny for the child to begin with," added he, throwing the
child a penny.
"Your honour, they're only poor craturs going
up the country to beg, while the man goes over to reap the
harvest in England. Nor this would not be neither if the
lord was in it to give 'em employ. That man, now, was a
good and a willing slave in his day. I mind him working
with myself in the shrubberies at Clonbrony Castle when I
was a boy; but I'll not be detaining your honour, now the
road's better."
The postillion drove on at a good rate for some time, till he
X
A
1
THE ABSENTEE.
187
came to a piece of the road freshly covered with broken stones,
over which he was obliged to travel slowly.
They overtook a string of cars on which were piled up high,
beds, tables, chairs, trunks, boxes, band-boxes.
"How are you, Finnucan ? You've fine loading there. From
Dublin, are you
"From Bray."
>>
?
"And what news?"
(C
Great news and bad for Old Nick, or some belonging to him,
thanks be to Heaven! for myself hates him."
>>
"What's happened him ?
!
"His sister's husband that's failed, the great grocer that
was, the man that had the wife that ow'd ¹ the fine house near
Bray, that they got that time the Parliament flitted, and that I
seen in her carriage flaming-well, it's all out, they're all done up.
>>
"Tut! is that all? Then they'll thrive, and set up again
grander than ever, I'll engage. Have not they Old Nick for
an attorney at their back ? A good warrant!"
"Oh, trust him for that! He won't go security, nor pay a
farthing for his shister, nor wouldn't was she his father. I heard
him telling her so, which I could not have done in his place at
that time, and she crying as if her heart would break, and I
standing by in the parlour.”
2
"The neger! And did he speak that way, and you by ?"
"Ay, did he, and said, 'Mrs. Raffarty,' says he, it's all
your own fault; you're an extravagant fool, and ever was, and
I wash my hands of you.' That was the word he spoke; and
she answered and said, 'And mayn't I send the beds and
blankets,' said she, and what I can, by the cars out of the way
of the creditors, to Clonbrony Castle? and won't you let me
hide there from the shame till the bustle's over?'
You may
do that,' says he, for what I care; but remember,' says he,
'that I've the first claim to them goods.' And that's all he
would grant. So they are coming down all o' Monday-them
are her band-boxes and all-to settle it; and faith it was a pity
of her! to hear her sobbing, and to see her own brother speak
and look so hard-and she a lady."
C
(C
'Sure, she's not a lady born, no more than himself," said
Larry ;
"but that's no excuse for him. His heart's as hard as
that stone," said Larry; "and my own people knew that long
ago, and now his own know it. And what right have we to
complain, since he's as bad to his own flesh and blood as
to us ?"
}
"God speed you " to the
With this consolation, and with a
carman, Larry was driving off, but the carman called to him,
1 Owned,
2 Neger: quasi negro; meo periculo, niggard.
!
*
4
}
188
Stories of Ireland.
and pointing to a house at the corner of which, on a high pole,
was swinging an iron sign of three horse-shoes set in a crooked
frame, and at the window hung an empty bottle, proclaiming
whisky within.
"Well I don't care if I do," said Larry; "for I've no other
comfort left me in life now. I beg your honour's pardon, sir,
for a minute," added he, throwing the reins into the carriage to
Lord Colambre, as he leapt down-all remonstrance and power
of lungs to reclaim him, vain. He darted into the whisky-house
with the carman, reappeared before Lord Colambre could accom-
plish getting out, remounted his seat, and taking the reins.
"I thank your honour," said he, "and I'll bring you into
Clonbrony before its pitch-dark yet, though it's nightfall, and
that's four good miles; but 'a spur in the head is worth two
in the heel.""
Larry, to demonstrate the truth of his favourite axiom, drove
off at such a furious rate over great stones left in the middle of
the road by carmen, who had been driving in the gudgeons of
their axle-trees to hinder them from lacing,' that Lord Colambre
thought life and limb in imminent danger; and feeling that
at all events the jolting and bumping was past endurance, he
had recourse to Larry's shoulder, and shook and pulled, and called
to him to go slower, but in vain. At last the wheel struck full
against a heap of stones at a turn of the road, the wooden linch-
pin came off, and the chaise turned over. Lord Colambre was
a little bruised, but glad to escape without fractured bones.
1
'I beg your honour's pardon," said Larry, completely sobered.
"I'm as glad as the best pair of boots ever I see, to see your
honour nothing the worse for it. It was the linchpin and them
barrows of loose stones, that ought to be fined anyway, if there
was any justice in the country."
"The pole is broken: how are we to get on?" said Lord
Colambre.
Murder! murder!-and no smith nearer than Clonbrony;
nor rope even. It's a folly to talk; we can't get to Clonbrony,
nor stir a step backward or forward the night."
"What, then! do you mean to leave me all night in the middle
of the road?" cried Lord Colambre, quite exasperated.
<<
"Is it me? please your honour. I would not use any jantle-
man go ill, barring I could do no other," replied the postillion,
coolly. Then leaping across the ditch, or, as he called it, the
gripe of the ditch, he scrambled up, and while he was scrambling,
said, "If your honour will lend me your hand till I pull you
up the back of the ditch, the horses will stand while we go.
I'll find you as pretty a lodging for the night, with a widow of
1 Opening: perhaps from lacher, to loosen.
1¦
t
}
14 day
ساری
THE ABSENTEE.
189
a brother of my shister's husband that was, as ever you slept in
your life; for Old Nick or St. Dennis has not found 'em out
yet; and your honour will be, no compare, snugger than at the
inn at Clanbrony, which has no roof, the devil a stick. But
where will I get your honour's hand, for it's coming on so dark
I can't see rightly. There, you're up now safe. Yonder candle's
the house."
"Go and ask whether they can give us a night's lodging."
"Is it ask? When I see the light! Sure they'd be proud to
give the traveller all the beds in the house, let alone one.
Take
care of the potato furrows, that's all, and follow me straight. I'll
go on to meet the dog, who knows me, and might be strange to
your honour."
(C
Kindly welcome," were the first words Lord Colambre heard
when he approached the cottage; and "kindly welcome" was
in the sound of the voice and in the countenance of the old
woman who came out, shading her rush-candle from the wind,
and holding it so as to light the path. When he entered the
cottage, he saw a cheerful fire and a neat pretty young woman
making it blaze; she put her spinning-wheel out of the way, set
a stool by the fire for the stranger, and repeating in a very low
tone of voice, "Kindly welcome, sir," retired.
"Put down some eggs, dear; there's plenty in the bowl," said
the old woman, calling to her; "I'll do the bacon. Was not we
lucky to be up? The boy's gone to bed, but waken him," said
she, turning to the postillion, and he'll help you with the chay,
and put your horses in the bier for the night.'
(C
No; Larry chose to go on to Clonbrony with the horses, that
he might get the chaise mended betimes for his honour. The
table was set; clean trenchers, hot potatoes, milk, eggs, bacon,
and "kindly welcome to all."
"Set the salt, dear; and the butter, love. Where's your head,
Grace, dear?”
"Grace!" repeated Lord Colambre, looking up; and, to apolo-
gise for his involuntary exclamation, he added, "Is Grace a
common name in Ireland ? "
"I can't say, plase your honour, but it was give her by Lady
Clonbrony, from a niece of her own, God bless her; and a very
kind lady she was to us and to all when she was living in it;
but those times are gone past," said the old woman with a sigh.
The young woman sighed too; and sitting down by the fire,
began to count the notches in a little bit of stick which she held
in her hand, and after she had counted them, sighed again.
"But don't be sighing, Grace, now," said the old woman;
sighs is bad sauce for the traveller's supper; and we won't be
troubling him with more," added she, turning to Lord Colambre,
with a smile.
CC
1
1
}
9
,
¿
1
1
I
¿
STORIES OF IRELAND.
190
"Is your egg done to your liking?
"Perfectly, thank you."
"Then I wish it was a chicken, for your sake, which it should
have been, and roast too, had we time. I wish I could see you
eat another egg."
>>
"No more, thank you, my good lady; I never ate a better
supper, nor received a more hospitable welcome."
"Oh, the welcome is all we have to offer."
"C
May I ask what that is ?" said Lord Colambre, looking at
the notched stick which the young woman held in her hand, and
on which her eyes were still fixed.
It's a tally, plase your honour. Oh, you're a foreigner. It's
the way the labourers keep the account of the day's work with
the overseer, the bailiff; a notch for every day the bailiff makes
on his stick, and the labourer the like on his stick, to tally; and
when we come to make up the account, it's by the notches we go.
And there's been a mistake, and is a dispute here between our
boy and the overseer; and she was counting the boy's tally,
that's in bed-tired, for in troth he's overworked."
،،
said
>>
Would you want anything more from me, mother ?
the girl, rising and turning her head away.
“No, child; get away, for your heart's full.”
She went instantly.
"Is the boy her brother?" said Lord Colambre.
"No; he's her bachelor," said the old woman, lowering her
voice.
"Her bachelor ? "
"That is, her sweetheart: for she is not my daughter, though
you heard her call me mother. The boy's my son; but I am
afeard they must give it up; for they're too poor, and the times
is hard, and the agents harder than the times. There's two of
them, the under and the upper; and they grind the substance of
one between them, and then blow one away like chaff; but we'll
not be talking of that to spoil your honour's night's rest. The
room is ready, and here's the rushlight."
She showed him into a very small but neat room.
"What a comfortable-looking bed!" said Lord Colambre.
((
Ah, these red check curtains," said she, letting them down ;-
“these have lasted well. They were give me by a good friend,
now far away over the seas, my Lady Clonbrony; and made by
the prettiest hands ever you see, her niece's, Miss Grace Nugent's,
and she a little child that time; sweet love! All gone!"
The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colambre
did what he could to appear indifferent. She set down the candle
and left the room. Lord Colambre went to bed, but he lay
awake,
Revolving sweet and bitter thoughts.
1
THE ABSENTEE.
191
I
།
CHAPTER XI.
THE kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, everything prepared
for her guest by the hospitable hostess, who, thinking the gentle-
man would take tea to his breakfast, had sent off a gassoon by
the first light to Clonbrony for an ounce of tea, a quarter of
sugar, and a loaf of white bread; and there was on the little
table good cream, milk, butter, eggs-all the promise of an ex-
cellent breakfast. It was a fresh morning, and there was a
pleasant fire on the neatly-swept hearth. The old woman was
sitting in her chimney-corner, behind a little screen of white-
washed wall, built out into the room for the purpose of keeping
those who sat by the fire from the blast of the door. There was a
loop-hole in this wall, to let the light in, just at the height of a
person's head, who was sitting near the chimney. The rays of
the morning sun now came through it, shining across the face of
the old woman as she sat knitting. Lord Colambre thought he
had seldom seen a more agreeable countenance, intelligent eyes,
benevolent smile, a natural expression of cheerfulness subdued
by age and misfortune.
"A good-morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you got the
night well? A fine day for us this holiday morning; my Grace
is gone to early prayers, so your honour will be content with an
old woman to make your tea. Oh, let me put in plenty of tea, or
it will never be good; and if your honour takes stirabout, an
old hand will engage to make that to your liking, anyway; for,
by great happiness, we have what will just answer for you of
the nicest meal the miller made my Grace a compliment of last
time she went to the mill."
CC
Lord Colambre observed that this miller had good taste, and
his lordship paid some compliment to Grace's beauty, which the
old woman received with a smile, but turned off the conversation.
Then," said she, looking out of the window, "is not that
there a nice little garden the boy dug for her and me, at his
breakfast and dinner hours ? Ah! he's a good boy, and a good
warrant to work; and the good son desarves the good wife, and
it's he that will make the good husband; and with my goodwill
he, and no other, shall get her, and with her goodwill the same;
and I bid 'em keep up their heart and hope the best, for there's
no use in fearing the worst till it comes.
>>
Lord Colambre wished very much to know the worst.
If you would not think a stranger impertinent for asking,"
said he, "and if it would not be painful to you to explain ?"
"Oh, impertinent, your honour! It's very kind; and sure
none's a stranger to one's heart, that feels for one. And for
myself, I can talk of my troubles without thinking of them So
I'll tell you all. If the worst comes to the worst, we must quit
}
!
W
*
}
¿
+
}
192
STORIES OF IRELAND.
1
and give up this little snug place, and house and farm, and all, to
the agent; which would be hard on us, and me a widow, when
my
husband did all that is done to the land. And if your honour
was a judge, you could see, if you stepped out, there has been a
deal done, and built the house, and all; but it plased Heaven to
take him. Well, he was too good for this world, and I'm satis-
fied. I'm not saying a word again' that. I trust we shall meet
in heaven, and be happy, surely. And meantime here's my
boy, that will make me as happy as ever widow was on earth-if
the agent will let him And I can't think the agent, though they
that know him best call him Old Nick, would be so wicked as to
take from us that which he never gave us. The good lord him-
self granted us the lase; the life's dropped, and the years is out;
but we had a promise of renewal in writing from the landlord,
God bless him! If he was not away, he'd be a good gentleman
and we'd be happy and safe."
But if you have a promise in writing of a renewal, surely
you are safe, whether your landlord is absent or present."
"Ah, no! that makes a great differ, when there's no eye or
hand over the agent. I would not wish to speak or think ill of
him or any man; but was he an angel, he could not know to do
the tenantry justice, the way he is living always in Dublin, and
coming down to the country only the receiving days, to make a
sweep among us, and gather up the rents in a hurry, and he in
such haste back to town-can just stay to count over our money
and give the receipts. Happy for us if we get that same; but
can't expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind our
improvements, any more than listen to our complaints. Oh!
there's great excuse for the gentleman, if that was any comfort
for us," added she, smiling.
"But if he does not live amongst you himself, has not he some
under-agent who lives in the country ?" said Lord Colambre.
"He has so."
، .
"And he should know your concerns: does he mind them?
"He should know; he should know better; but as to minding
our concerns, your honour knows," continued she, smiling again,
every one in this world must mind their own concerns; and it
would be a good world if it was even so. There's a great deal
in all things that don't appear at first sight. Mr. Dennis wanted
Grace for a wife for his bailiff, but she would not have him; and
Mr. Dennis was very sweet to her himself; but Grace is rather
high with him, as proper, and he has a grudge again' us ever
since. Yet indeed, there," she added after another pause,
you say, I think we are safe; for we have that memorandum in
writing with a pencil, given under his own hand, on the back of
the lase, to me, by the same token when my good lord had his
foot on the step of the coach, going away; and I'll never forget
(C
as
""
?
*
1
}
1
}
Į
THE ABSENTEE.
193
the smile of her that got that good turn done for me, Miss Grace.
And just when she was going to England and London, and, young
as she was, to have the thought to stop and turn to the likes of
me! Oh, then, if you could see her and know her as I did! That
was the comforting angel upon earth; look, and voice, and heart,
and all! Oh, that she was here present, this minute! But did
you scald yourself?" said the widow to Lord Colambre. Sure,
you must have scalded yourself; for you poured the kettle
straight over your hand, and it boiling! Oh dear! to think of so
young a gentleman's hand shaking so like my own."
CC
Luckily, to prevent her pursuing her observations from the
hand to the face, which might have betrayed more than Lord
Colambre wished she should know, her own Grace came in at
this instant.
"There it's for you, safe, mother dear-the lase !" said Grace,
throwing a packet into her lap. The old woman lifted up her
hands to heaven, with the lease between them-" Thanks be to
Heaven!" Grace passed on, and sunk down on the first seat
she could reach. Her face was flushed, and she looked much
fatigued as she loosened the strings of her bonnet and cloak.
Then, I'm tired! But recollecting herself, she rose and
saluted the gentleman.
""
(C
What tired ye, dear ?"
"Why, after prayers we had to go-for the agent was not at
prayers, nor at home for us when we called-we had to go all the
way up to the castle; and there, by great good luck, we found
Mr. Nick Garraghty himself, come from Dublin, and the lase in
his hands; and he sealed it up that way, and handed it to me
very civil. I never saw him so good-though he offered me a
glass of spirits, which was not manners to a decent young woman
in a morning, as Brian noticed after. Brian would not take any
either, nor never does. We met Mr. Dennis and the driver,
coming home; and he says the rent must be paid to-morrow, or,
instead of renewing, he'll seize and sell all. Mother dear, I
would have dropped with the walk but for Brian's arm."
"It's a wonder, dear, what makes you so weak, that used to
be so strong."
"But if we can sell the cow for anything at all to Mr. Dennis,
since his eye is set upon her, better let him have her, mother
dear; and that and my yarn, which Mrs. Garraghty says she'll
allow me for, will make up the rent; and Brian need not talk of
America. But it must be in golden guineas-the agent will take
the rent no other way—and you won't get a guinea for less than
five shillings. Well, even so, it's easy selling my new gown to
one that covets it, and that will give me in exchange the price of
the gold; or, suppose that would not do, add this cloak-it's
handsome, and I know a friend would be glad to take it, and I'd
G
66
J
*!
*
}
194
STORIES OF IRELAND.
part it as ready as look at it. Anything at all, sure, rather than
that he should be forced to talk of emigrating; or-oh, worse
again-listing for the bounty, to save us from the cant or the jail,
by going to the hospital, or his grave, maybe-Oh, mother!"
CC
Oh, child! This is what makes you weak-fretting. Don't
be that way. Sure, here's the lase, and that's good comfort;
and the soldiers will be gone out of Clonbrony to-morrow, and
then that's off your mind. And as to America, it's only talk: I
won't let him, he's dutiful; and would sooner sell my dresser,
and down to my bed, dear, than see you sell anything of yonrs,
love. Promise me you won't. Why didn't Brian come home
all the way with you, Grace ? "
"He would have seen me home," said Grace, "only that he
went up a piece of the mountain for some stones or ore for the
gentleman, for he had the manners to think of him this morning,
though, shame for me, I had not when I come in, or I would
not have told you all this and he by. See, there he is,
mother."
Brian came in very hot, out of breath, with his hat full of
stones. "Good-morrow to your honour. I was in bed last night,
and sorry they did not call me up to be of sarvice. Larry was
telling us this morning your honour's from Wales, and looking
for mines in Ireland, and I heard talk that there was one on our
mountain, maybe, you'd be curous to see, and so I brought
the best I could; but I'm no judge."
"Nor I neither," thought Lord Colambre; but he thanked
the young man, and, determined to avail himself of Larry's mis-
conception of false report, examined the stones very gravely,
and said, "This promises well. Lapis caliminaris, schist,
plum-pudding stone, rhomboidal, crystal, blend, garrawachy."
and all the strange names he could think of, jumbling them
together at a venture.
(C
The lase, is it?” cried the young man, with joy sparkling
in his eyes, as his mother held up the packet. Then all's
safe! And he's an honest man, and shame on me that could
suspect he meant us wrong. Lend me the papers."
He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover-"It's the lase,
sure enough. Shame on me! But stay, where's the memo-
randum?
"It's there, sure," said his mother, "where my lord's pencil
writ it. I don't read. Grace, dear, look."
The young man put it into her hands, and stood without
power to utter a syllable.
"It's not here! It's gone! No sign of it."
"Gracious heaven! that can't be," said the old woman,
putting on her spectacles; "let me see. I remember the very
spot."
}
!
THE ABSENTEE.
195
/
'It's taken away; it's rubbed clean out! Oh, wasn't I fool?
But who could have thought he'd be the villain ?
The young man seemed neither to see nor hear, but to be
absorbed in thought.
رو
Grace, with her eyes fixed upon him, grew as pale as death-
"He'll go-he's gone.
""
"She's gone!" cried Lord Colambre; and the mother just
caught her in her arms as she was falling.
"The chaise is ready, plase your honour," said Larry, coming
into the room.
"Death! what's here ?”
"Air!—she's coming to," said the young man. "Take a
drop of water, my own Grace."
"C
Young man, I promise you," cried Lord Colambre, speak-
ing in the tone of a master, striking the young man's shoulder,
who was kneeling at Grace's feet; but recollecting and restrain-
ing himself, he added in a quiet voice-"I promise you I shall
never forget the hospitality I have received in this house, and I
am sorry to be obliged to leave you in distress."
These words uttered with difficulty, he hurried out of the
house and into his carriage. "Go back to them," said he to
the postillion; "go back, and ask whether, if I should stay a
day or two longer in this country, they would let me return at
night and lodge with them. And here, man-stay, take this,
putting money into his hands, "for the good woman of the
""
house."
The postillion went in, and returned.
"She won't at all; I knew she would not."
CC
Well, I am obliged to her for the night's lodging she gave
me; I have no right to expect more."
"What is it? sure she bid me tell you-and welcome to
the lodging; for,' said she, he is a kind-hearted gentleman.'
But here's the money. It's that I was telling you she would
not have at all."
"Thank you. Now, my good friend, Larry, drive me to
Clonbrony, and do not say another word, for I'm not in a talk-
ing humour."
Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony. Cloubrony
was now a melancholy scene. The houses, which had been
built in a better style of architecture than usual, were in a
ruinous condition; no glass in the windows, and many of the
roofs without slates. For the stillness of the place Lord
Colambre in some measure accounted by considering that it
was holiday; therefore of course all the shops were shut up
and all the people at prayers. He alighted at the inn, which
completely answered Larry's representation of it. Nobody was
to be seen but a drunken waiter, who, as well as he could articu-
late, informed Lord Colambre that "his mistress was in her
}
196
STORIES OF IRELAND.
bed since Thursday was a week; the ostler at the wash-
woman's, and the cook at second prayers."
Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church gate
was locked and broken-a calf, two pigs, and an ass, in the
churchyard; and several boys (with more of skin apparent than
clothes) were playing at pitch-and-toss upon a tombstone,
which, upon nearer observation, he saw was the monument of
his own family. One of the boys came to the gate and told
Lord Colambre "there was no use in going into the church,
because there was no church there, nor had not been this
twelvemonth, becaase there was no curate, and the parson
was away always, since the lord was at home-that is, was
not at home-he, nor the family.
""
Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting a
considerable time, he gave up the point. He could not get any
dinner, and in the evening he walked out again into the town.
He found several alehouses, however, open, which were full of
people; all of them as busy and as noisy as possible. He ob-
served that the interest was created by an advertisement of
several farms on the Clonbrony estate to be set by Nicholas
Garraghty, Esq. He could not help smiling at his being witness
incognito to various schemes for outwitting the agents and
defrauding the landlord; but on a sudden the scene was
changed. A boy ran in, crying out that "St. Dennis was
riding down the hill into the town; and if you wouldn't have
the license," said the boy, "take care of yourself, Brannagan.'
'If you wouldn't have the license," Lord Colambre perceived by
what followed, meant "If you have not a license." Brannagan
immediately snatched an untasted glass of whisky from a
customer's lips (who cried, "Murder!"), gave it and the bottle he
held in his hand to his wife, who swallowed the spirits, and ran
away with the bottle and glass into some back hole, whilst the
bystanders laughed, saying, "Well thought of, Peggy!
""
"Clear out, all of you, at the back-door, for the love of
heaven, if you wouldn't be the ruin of me," said the man of
the house, setting a ladder to a corner of the shop. "Phil, hoist
me up the keg to the loft," added he, running up the ladder;
"and one of yees step up street, and give Rose M Givney notice,
for she's selling too."
The keg was hoisted up, the ladder removed, the shop
cleared of all the customers, the shutters shut, the door
barred, and the counter cleaned.
"Lift your stones, sir, if you plase," said the wife as she
rubbed the counter, "and say nothing of what you seen at all;
but that you're a stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging,
if you're questioned, or waiting to see Mr. Dennis. There's no
smell of whisky in it now, is there, sir?"
1
&
}
THE ABSENTEE.
197
Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this;
he could only hope no one would perceive it.
، ،
Oh, and if he would, the smell of whisky was nothing," as
the wife affirmed, "for it was everywhere in nature, and no
proof again' any one, good or bad."
66
Now, St. Dennis may come when he will, or Old Nick him-
self!" So she tied up a blue handkerchief over her head, and
had the toothache, " very bad."
Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.
"He's safe in bed," said the wife.
"In bed! When ?"
"Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the hand-
kerchief over my face. Within the room-look, he is snug."
And there he was in bed, certainly, and his clothes on the
chest.
A knock, a loud knock, at the door.
66
St. Dennis himself! Stay till I unbar the door," said the
woman; and making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning,
and saying-
"We was all done up for the night, plase your honour; and
myself with the toothache, very bad; and the lodger, that's
going to take an egg only before he'd go into his bed. My
man's in it, and asleep long ago."
With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank disap-
pointment, Mr. Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked into the
room, saw the good man of the house asleep, heard him snore,
and then returning, asked Lord Colambre" who he was, and
what brought him there ?"
Our hero said he was from England, and a traveller; and
now, bolder grown as a geologist, he talked of his specimens,
and his hopes of finding a mine in the neighbouring mountains;
then adopting as well as he could the servile tone and abject
manner in which he found Mr. Dennis was to be addressed,
"he hoped he might get encouragement from the gentleman at
the head of the estate."
"To bore, is it? Well, don't bore me about it. I can't give
you any answer now, my good friend; I'm engaged.”
Out he strutted. "Stick to him up the town, if you have a
mind to get your answer," whispered the woman. Lord
Colambre followed, for he wished to see the end of this scene.
Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me like
my shadow for?" said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly upon
Lord Colambre.
66
His lordship bowed low. Waiting for my answer, sir, when
you are at leisure. Or may I call upon you to-morrow?
"You seem to be a civil kind of fellow; but as to boring, I
don't know; if you will undertake it at your own expense. I
1
CC
A
$
198
STORIES OF IRELAND.
daresay there may be minerals in the ground. Well, you may
call at the castle to-morrow; and when my brother has done
with the tenantry, I'll speak to him for you, and we'll consult
together, and see what we think. It's too late to-night. In
Ireland nobody speaks to a gentleman about business after
dinner. Your servant, sir. Anybody can show you the way
to the castle in the morning." And pushing by his lordship,
he called to a man on the other side of the street, who had
obviously been waiting for him. He went under a gateway
with this man, and gave him a bag of guineas. He then called
for his horse, which was brought to him by a man whom Lord
Colambre had heard declaring that he would bid for the land
that was advertised; whilst another, who had the same inten-
tions, most respectfully held St. Dennis's stirrup, whilst he
mounted without thanking either of these men. St. Dennis
clapped spurs to his steed, and rode away. No thanks indeed
were deserved, for the moment he was out of hearing both
cursed him after the manner of their country.
"Bad luck go with you, then! And may you break your
neck before you get home, if it was not for the lase I'm to get,
and that's paid for!"
Lord Colambre followed the crowd into a public-house, where
a new scene presented itself to his view.
The man to whom St. Dennis gave the bag of gold was now
selling this very gold to the tenants who were to pay their rent
next day at the castle.
The agent would take nothing but gold. The same guineas
were bought and sold several times over, to the great profit of
the agent and loss of the poor tenants; for as the rents were
paid the guineas were resold to another set; and the remit-
tances made through bankers to the landlord, who, as the poor
man that explained the transaction to Lord Colambre expressed
it, "gained nothing by the business, bad or good, but the ill-
will of the tenantry."
The higgling for the price of the gold; the time lost in dis-
puting about the goodness of the notes among some poor
tenants who could not read or write, and who were at the mercy
of the man with the bag in his hand; the vexation, the useless
harassing of all, who were obliged to submit ultimately, Lord
Colambre saw; and all this time he endured the smell of tobacco
and whisky, and the sound of various brogues, the din of men
wrangling, brawling, threatening, whining, drawling, cajoling,
cursing, and every variety of wretchedness.
"And is this my father's town of Clonbrony ?" thought Lord
Colambre. Is this Ireland? No, it is not Ireland. Let me
not, like most of those who forsake their native country, traduce
it. Let me not, even to my own mind, commit the injustice of
;
THE ABSENTEE.
199
taking a speck for the whole. What I have just scen is the
picture only of that to which an Irish estate and Irish tenantry
may be degraded in the absence of those whose duty and interest
it is to reside in Ireland-to uphold justice by example and
authority; but who, neglecting this duty, commit power to bad
hands and bad hearts-abandon their tenantry to oppression
and their property to ruin.”
It was now fine moonlight, and Lord Colambre met with a
boy, who said he could show him a short cut across the fields
to the widow O'Neil's cottage.
CHAPTER XII.
ALL were asleep at the cottage when Lord Colambre arrived,
except the widow, who was sitting up waiting for him, and who
had brought her dog into the house, that he might not fly at him
or bark at his return. She had a roast chicken ready for her
guest, and it was-but this she never told him-the only chicken
she had left: all the others had been sent, with the duty fowl,
as a present to the under-agent's lady. While he was eating
his supper, which he ate with the better appetite as he had had
no dinner, the good woman took down from the shelf a pocket-
book, which she gave him. "Is not that your book ?" said
she."
My boy Brian found it after you in the potato furrow,
where you dropped it."
"Thank you," said Lord Colambre. "There are bank-notes in
it which I could not afford to lose."
"Are there ?" said she. "He never opened it, nor I."
Then, in answer to his inquiries about Grace and the young
man, the widow said-
66
They are all in heart now, I thank ye kindly, sir, for asking;
they'll sleep easy to-night, anyway; and I'm in great spirits
for them and myself, for all's smooth now. After we parted you,
Brian saw Mr. Dennis himself about the lase and memorandum,
which he never denied, but knew nothing about. But, be that
as it may,' says he, you're improving tenants, and I'm con-
fident my brother will consider ye; so what you'll do is, you'll
give up the possession to-morrow to myself, that will call for it
by cock-crow, just for form's sake; and then go up to the castle
with the new lase ready drawn in your hand; and if all's paid
off clear of the rent, and all that's due, you'll get the new lasc
signed. I'll promise you this upon the word and honour of a
gentleman.' And there's no going beyond that, you know, sir.
}
•
th
J
$
}
200
STORIES OF IRELAND).
So my boy came home as light as a feather and as gay as a lark,
to bring us the good news; only he was afraid we might not
make up the rent, guineas and all; and because he could not get
paid for the work he had done, on account of the mistake in the
overseer's tally, I sold the cow to a neighbour, dog-cheap; but
needs must, as they say, when Old Nick drives," said the widow,
smiling. Well, still it was but paper we got for the cow; then
that must be gold before the agent would take or touch it; so I
was laying out to sell the dresser, and had taken the plates and
cups and little things off it, and my boy was lifting it out with
Andy the carpenter, that was agreeing for it, when in comes
Grace, all rosy and out of breath. It's a wonder I never minded
her run out, nor ever missed her. Mother,' says she, 'here's
the gold for you; don't be stirring your dresser.' And where's
your gown and cloak, Grace ?' says I. But I beg your pardon,
sir; maybe I'm tiring you?"
C
CC
18
Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.
"
"Where's your gown and cloak, Grace?' says I. 'Gone,'
says she. The cloak was too warm and heavy, and I don't
doubt, mother, but it was that helped to make me faint this
morning. And as to the gown, sure I've a very nice one here that
you spun for me yourself, mother, and that I prize above all
the gowns that ever came out of a loom, and that Brian said
become me to his fancy above any gown ever he see me wear;
and what could I wish for more? Now, I'd a mind to scold her
for going to sell the gown unknownst to me, but I don't know
how it was, I couldn't scold her just then; so I kissed her, and
Brian the same, and that was what no man ever did before. And
she had a mind to be angry with him, but could not, nor ought
not, says I, 'for he's as good as your husband now, Grace; and
no man can part yees now,' says I, putting their hands together.
Well. I never saw her look so pretty; nor there was not a
happier boy that minute on God's earth than my son, nor a
happier mother than myself; and I thanked God, that had given
them to me; and down they both fell on their knees for my
blessing, little worth as it was; and my heart's blessing they
had, and I laid my hands upon them. It's the priest you must
get to do this for you to-morrow,' says I. And Brian just held
up the ring, to show me all was ready on his part, but could not
speak. Then there's no America between us any more,' said
Grace, low to me, and her heart was on her lips; but the colour
came and went, and I was afeared she'd have swooned again, but
not for sorrow; so I carried her off. Well, if she was not my
own--but she is not my own born, so I may say it-there never
was a better girl, nor a more kind-hearted nor generous; never
thinking anything she could do or give too much for them she
loved, and anything at all would do for herself, the sweetest
6
6
J
7
=
‛*་
2 2
THE ABSENTEE.
natured and tempered both, and always was, from this high, the
bond that held all together, and joy of the house."
"C
Just like her namesake," cried Lord Colambre.
Plase your honour ? "
"Is it not late?" said Lord Colambre, stretching himself and
gaping.
"I've walked a great way to-day.'
The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red
check bed, and wished him a very good night; not without some
slight sentiment of displeasure at his gaping thus at the pane-
gyric on her darling Grace. Before she left the room, however,
her short-lived resentment vanished, upon his saying that he
hoped, with her permission, to be present at the wedding of the
young couple.
Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his
reverence when it would be convenient to marry him; and whilst
he was gone Mr. Dennis Garraghty came to the cottage to re-
ceive the rent and possession. The rent was ready in gold, and
counted into his hand.
'No occasion for a receipt; for a new lase is a receipt in full
for everything."
"Very well, sir," said the widow; "I know nothing of law.
You know best-whatever you direct-for you are acting as a
friend to us now. My son got the attorney to draw the pair of
new lases yesterday, and here they are ready, all to signing."
Mr. Dennis said his brother must settle that part of the
business, and that they must carry them up to the castle; "but
first give me the possession."
""
(C
201
Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to
him, and a bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked ont the
fire, and said every living creature must go out.
"It's only
form of law," said he.
"And must my lodger get up, and turn out, sir?" said
she.
"He must turn out, to be sure; not a living soul must be left
in it, or it's no legal possession, properly. Who is your lodger?
""
On Lord Colambre's appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some sur-
prise, and said, "I thought you were lodging at Brannagan's
are not you the man who spoke to me at his house about the
gold-mines P"
No, sir; he never lodged at Brannagan's," said the widow.
Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about the gold-
mines at Brannagan's; but I did not like to lodge————
"Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must walk
out of this lodging now, if you please, my good friend."
So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders, re-
peating, as the widow turned back, and looked with some surprise
aud alarm, "Only for form's sake, only for form's sake!" Then
ITS
1
202
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
locking the door, took the key and put it into his pocket. The
widow held out her hand for it: "The form's gone through
now, sir; is not it? Be plased to let us in again.
When the new lease is signed I'll give you possession again,
but not till then, for that's the law. So make away with you
to the castle; and mind," added he, winking slily, "mind you
take sealing-money with you, and something to buy gloves."
66
Oh, where will I find all that?" said the widow.
1
"I have it mother; don't fret," said Grace. "I have it—the
price of what I can want. So let us go off to the castle with-
out delay. Brian will meet us on the road, you know."
They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accom-
panying them. Brian met them on the road. "Father Tom is
ready, dear mother; bring her in, and he'll marry us. I'm not
my own man till she's mine. Who knows what may happen?”
Who knows? That's true," said the widow.
..
I
Better go to the castle first," said Grace.
"And keep the priest waiting! You can't use his reverence
so," said Brian.
So she let him lead her into the priest's house, and she did not
make any of the awkward draggings back or ridiculous scenes
of grimace sometimes exhibited on these occasions, but blush-
ing rosy red, yet with more self-possession than could have been
expected from her timid nature, she gave her hand to the man
she loved, and listened with attentive devotion to the holy
ceremony.
"Ah!" thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated
the bride: "shall I ever be as happy as those. poor people are at
this moment?" He longed to make them some little present,
but all he could venture at this moment was to pay the priest's
dues.
The priest positively refused to take anything.
<C
They are the best couple in my parish," said he; "and I'll
take nothing, sir, from you, a stranger and my guest."
(C
Now, come what will, I'm a match for it.
touch me," said Brian.
"Oh, don't be bragging," said the widow.
“Whatever trouble God sends, he has given one now will help
to bear it, and sure I may be thankfnl," said Grace.
"Such good hearts must be happy-shall be happy," said
Lord Colambre.
66
Oh, you're very kind," said the widow, smiling; "and I
wouldn't doubt you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the
agent will give you encouragement about them mines, that we
may keep you among us."
،،
I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, genc-
1 What I can do without.
No trouble can
5
I
7
1
¦
203
“whether the agent gives
It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle: the old woman, as
she said herself, would not have been able to accomplish it, but
for a lift given to her by a friendly carman whom they met on
the road with an empty car. This carman was Finnucan, who
dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of meeting and being recog-
nised by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question of
"Who is at the castle ?" replied, "Mrs. Raffarty will be in it
afore night; but she's on the road still. There's none but Old
Nick in it yet, and he's more of a neger than ever; for think
that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his
shister's boxes and band-boxes down. If you're going to have
any dealings with him, God grant ye a safe deliverance."
"Amen! said the widow and her son and daughter.
THE ABSENTEE.
rous people," cried Lord Colambre ;
me encouragement or not," added he.
>7
Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of
the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he
was six years old. Some faint reminiscence of his childhood
made him feet or fancy that he knew the place. It was a fine
castle with a spacious park; but all about it, from the broken
piers at the great entrance to the mossy gravel and loose steps
at the hall door, had an air of desertion and melancholy. Walks
overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles,
fine trees cut down and lying on the ground in lots, to be sold.
A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, where in his
childhood our hero used to play, and which he called the black
forest, was gone. Nothing was to be seen but the white stumps
of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down to make up the
last remittances. "And how it went when sold! but no matter,
said Finnucan. "It's all alike. It's the back way into the yard
I'll take you, I suppose.'
1
""
"And such a yard! But it's no matter," repeated Lord
Colambre to himself. "It's all alike."
In the kitchen a great dinner was being prepared for Mr.
Garraghty's friends, who were to make merry with him when
the business of the day was over.
('
"(
"Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for
after dinner," says one. "And the wine for the cook. Sure there's
venison," cries another. "Venison! That's the way my lord's
deer goes," says a third, laughing. Ay, sure; and very proper,
when he's not here to eat 'em." Keep your nose out of the
kitchen, young man, if you plase," said the agent's cook, shut-
ting the door in Lord Colambre's face. "There's the way to the
office, if you've money to pay-up the back stairs."
"No; up the grand staircase," said the footman, “because
the office is damp for Mr. Garraghty, and it's not there he'll see
anybody to-day, but in my lady's dressing-room
";
(6
/
204
STORIES OF IRELAND.
So up the grand staircase they went, and through the mag-
nificent apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling
with damp.
"Then, isn't it a pity to see them! There's my lady, and all
spoiling," said the widow.
Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent.
"Shamefully damaged!" cried he.
"Pass on, or let me pass, if you please," said one of the tenants,
"and don't be stopping the doorway.”
*
I have business more nor you with the agent," said the
surveyor; "where is he?'
"Where should
"Oh!
There was a full levee, and fine smell of greatcoats.
would you put your hats on the silk cushions ?" said the widow,
to some men in the doorway, who were throwing off their greasy
hats on a damask sofa.
CC
در
"In the presence-chamber," replied another.
the viceroy be but in the presence-chamber?
""
Why not? Where else should we put them ?"
If the lady was in it, you wouldn't," said she, sighing.
66
""
No, to be sure, I wouldn't. Great news! would I make no
differ in the presence of Old Nick and my lady ?" said he, in
Irish. "Have I no sense or manners, good woman, think
added he, as he shook the ink out of the pen on the Wifton
Yo?
carpet, when he had finished signing his name to a paper on his
knee.
"You may wait long before you get to the speech of the
great man," said another, who was working his way through
numbers.
They continued pushing forward till they came within sight of
Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state. A worse countenance,
or a more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office,
Lord Colambre had never beheld.
We will not weary the reader with details of this levee.
"It's all the same," as Lord Colambre repeated to himself on
every fresh instance of roguery or oppression to which he was
witness; and having completely made up his mind on the sub-
ject, he sat quietly down in the background, waiting till the
widow's turn should come, for he was now interested only to see
how she would be treated. The room gradually thinned. Mr.
Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table to help his
brother count the heaps of gold.
66
Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise-
meeting me here," said the widow O'Neil, walking up to him.
"I'm sure you'll speak a good word for me. Here's the lases.
Who will I offer this to ?" said she, holding the glove-money and
sealing-money, "for I'm strange and ashamed.'
"Oh, don't be ashamed; there's no strangeness in bringing
!
{
น
1
$
THE ABSENTEE.
205
"}
money or taking it," said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out
Is this the proper compliment?
"I hope so, sir: your honour knows best."
his hand.
"Very well," slipping it into his private purse. "Now, what's
your business ?"
"The lases to sign-the rent's all paid up."
""
"Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up. ?
"It was, plase your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of
our little place in his pocket."
"Then I hope he'll keep it there. Your little place! It's no
longer yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think
I'm such a fool as to renew to you at this rent.”
"Mr. Dennis named the rent. But anything your honour
plases; anything at all that we can pay."
“Oh, it's out of the question: put it out of your head. No
rent you can offer would do, for I have promised it to the
surveyor."
"Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in
writing of a renewal on the back of the ould lase."
"Produce it."
"Here's the lase, but the promise is rubbed out."
"Nonsense! Coming to me with a promise that's rubbed
out. Who'll listen to that in a court of justice, do you
think ? "
“I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my
lord and Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless
her! who was by when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will
remember it."
"Miss Nugent? What can she know of business? What has
she to do with the management of Lord Clonbrony's estate,
pray
P »
"Management! No, sir."
"Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the
house?"
66
Oh, God forbid! How could that be?"
Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and
witness in what my lord does not choose."
CC
Well, then, I never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at
all, if it was ever so with me. But be plased, sir, to write over
to my lord, and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it."
"Write to my lord about such a trifle. Trouble him about
such nonsense!
>>
"I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and
believe me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor,
if in my power, for the whole estate, nor the whole world; for
there's an eye above.'
"
"Cant! Nonsense! Take those leases off the table; I will
J
३
f
霞
​}
ቂ
£
=
→
**
206
STORIES OF IRELAND.
never sign them. Walk off, ye canting hag! it's an imposition.
I will never sign them."
"You will, then, sir," cried Brian, growing red with indigna-
tion;" for the law shall make you, so it shall-and you'd as
good have been civil to my mother, whatever you did, for I'll
stand by her while I've life; and I know she has right, and shall
have law. I saw the memorandum written before ever it went
into your hands, sir, whatever became of it after-and will
swear to it, too."
"Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will
avail in your own case in a court of justice," continued Old
Nick.
"And against a gentleman of my brother's established cha-
racter and property," said St. Dennis. "What's your mother's
character against a gentleman's like his!"
"Character! Take care how you go to that, anyway, sir,"
cried Brian.
Grace put her hand before his mouth to stop him.
"Grace, dear! I must speak, if I die for it; sure it's for my
mother," said the young man, struggling forward, while his
mother held him back. I must speak."
"C
CC
Oh, he's ruined; I see it," said Grace, putting her hand
before her eyes," and he won't mind me."
66
"Go on; let him go on, pray, young woman," said Mr. Gar-
raghty, pale with anger and fear, his lips quivering. "I shall
be happy to take down his words."
Write them; and may all the world read it, and wel-
come!"
His mother and wife stopped his mouth by force.
Write you, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty, giving the pen to
his brother; for his hand shook so he could not form a letter.
"Write the very words, and at the top"-(pointing)—" after
'warning,'' with malice prepense.'
999
Write, then. Mother-Grace-let me,” cried Brian, speak-
ing in a smothered voice, as their hands were over his mouth.
Write, then, that if you'd either of you a character like my
mother, you might defy the world, and your word would be as
good as your oath."
"Oath! Mind that, Dennis," said Mr. Garraghty.
(f
Oh, sir, sir! won't you stop him!" cried Grace, turning
suddenly to Lord Colambre.
Oh, dear, dear! if you haven't lost your feeling for us,” cried
the widow.
"Let him speak,” said Lord Colambre, in a tone of authority;
"let the voice of truth be heard."
"Truth!" cried St. Dennis, and dropped the pen.
"And who the devil are you, sir ?" said Old Nick.
$
a
207
"Lord Colambre, I protest! exclaimed a female voice; and
Mrs. Raffarty at this instant appeared at the open door.
"Lord Colambre ! " repeated all present in different tones.
"My lord, I beg pardon," continued Mrs. Raffarty, advancing
as if her legs were tied; "had I known you were down here, I
would not have presumed. I'd better retire, for I see you're
busy.
""
THE ABSENTEE.
""
"You'd best; for you're mad, sister," said St. Dennis, push-
ing her back; "and we are busy. Go to your room, and keep
quiet, if you can."
"First, madam," said Lord Colambre, going between her and
the door; "let me beg that you will consider yourself at home
in this house. The hospitality you showed me, you cannot
think that I now forget."
CC
Oh, my lord, you're too good-kinder than my own." And
bursting into tears, she escaped out of the room.
Lord Colambre returned to the party round the table, who
were in various attitudes of astonishment, and with faces of fear,
horror, hope, joy, doubt.
"Distress," continued his lordship, “however incurred, if not
by vice, will always find a refuge in this house. I speak in my
father's name, for I know I speak his sentiments. But never
Kore shall vice," said he darting such a look at the brother
agents as they felt to the backbone-"never more shall vice,
shall fraud enter here."
He paused, and there was a momentary silence.
"There spoke the true thing and the rale gentleman; my
own heart's satisfied,” said Brian, folding his arms and standing
erect.
'Then so is mine,” said Grace, taking breath with a deep
sigh.
The widow, advancing, put on her spectacles, and looking up
close at Lord Colambre's face-" Then it's a wonder I didn't
know the family likeness."
Lord Colambre now recollecting that he still wore the old
greatcoat, threw it off.
66
Oh, bless him! Then now I'd know him anywhere. I'm
willing to die now, for we'll all be happy."
"My lord, since it is so-my lord, may I ask you," said Mr.
Garraghty, now sufficiently recovered to be able to articulate,
but scarcely to express his ideas; "if what your lordship hinted
just now
""
"I hinted nothing, sir. I spoke plainly."
"I beg pardon, my lord," said Old Nick; respecting 'vice
was levelled at me? Because if it was, my lord "-trying to stand
erect—“ let me tell your lordship, if I could think it was
"If it did not hit you, sir, no matter at whom it was levelled."
CC
رو
▸
}
208
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"And let me ask, my lord, if I may presume, whether in
what you suggested by the word ' fraud,' your lordship had any
particular meaning ?" said St. Dennis.
CC
A very particular meaning, sir. Feel in your pocket for the
key of this widow's house, and deliver it to her."
"Oh, if that's all the meaning, with all the pleasure in life.
I never meant to detain it longer than till the leases were
signed," said St. Dennis.
"And I'm ready to sign the leases this minute," said the
brother.
✓
"Do it, sir, this minute. I have read them I will be
answerable to my father."
Oh, as to that, my lord, I have power to sign for your
father."
He signed the leases. They were duly witnessed by Lord
Colambre.
*C
C4
CC
I deliver this as my act and deed," said Mr. Garraghty.
My lord," continued he, " you see, at the first word from you;
and had I known sooner the interest you took in the family,
there would have been no difficulty; for I'd make it a principle
to oblige you, my lord."
"C
Oblige me!" said Lord Colambre with disdain.
>
"But when gentlemen and noblemen travel incognito, and
lodge in cabins," added St. Dennis with a satanic smile, glancing
his eyes on Grace, "they have good reasons, no doubt.
66
"Do not judge my heart by your own, sir," said Lord Co-
lambre, coolly. No two things in nature can, I trust, be more
different. My purpose in travelling incognito has been fully
answered. I was determined to see and judge how my father's
estates were managed; and Lhave seen, compared, and judged.
I have seen the difference between the Clonbrony and the
Colambre property, and I shall represent what I have seen to
my father.
""
"As to that, my lord, if we are to come to that-but I trust
your lordship will suffer me to explain these matters. Go about
your business, my good friends-you have all you want; and,
my lord, after dinner, when you are cool, I hope I shall be able
to make you sensible that things have been represented to your
lordship in a mistaken light, and I flatter myself I shall con-
vince you that I have not only always acted the part of a friend
to the family, but am particularly willing to conciliate your
lordship's goodwill," said he, sweeping the rouleaus of gold into
a bag; "any accommodation in my power at any time.
""
"I want no accommodation, sir; were I starving, I would
accept of none from you. Never can you gain my goodwill, for
you can never deserve it."
If that be the case, my lord, I must conduct myself
1
产
​THE ABSENTEE.
209
accordingly; but it's fair to warn you before you make any
representation to my Lord Clonbrony, that, if he should think of
changing his agent, there are accounts to be settled between us.
That may be a consideration."
"No, sir, no consideration; my father never shall be the
slave of such a paltry consideration."
CC
Oh, very well, my lord; you know best. If you choose to
make an assumpsit, I'm sure I shall not object to the security.
Your lordship will be of age soon, I know-I'm sure, I'm satis-
fied. But," added he, with a malicious smile, "I rather appre-
hend you don't know what you undertake; I only premise that
the balance of accounts between us is not what can properly be
called a paltry consideration."
tr
On that point perhaps, sir, you and I may differ."
Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if
it suits your convenience."
""
66
66
Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles."
Dennis, the letters to the post. When do you go to
England, my lord ? "
<<
CC
Immediately, sir," said Lord Colambre. His lordship saw
new leases from his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty lying on
the table unsigned.
CC
"C
Immediately!" repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis with
an air of dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the window,
and whispered something to his brother, who instantly left the
room.
Lord Colambre saw the postchaise at the door which had
brought Mrs. Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing beside
it. His lordship instantly threw up the sash, and holding
between his finger and thumb a six-shilling piece, cried
Larry, my friend, let me have the horses!"
"You shall have 'em, your honour," said Larry.
Mr. Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magis-
terial tone: " Larry, my brother must have the horses."
"He can't, plase your honour-they're engaged.'
"Half-a-crown!--a crown!-half-a-guinea!" said Mr. Dennis
Garraghty, raising his voice as he increased his proffered
bribe.
-
11
To each offer Larry replied, "You can't, plase your honour—
they're engaged." And looking up to the window at Lord
Colambre, he said, "As soon as they have ate their oats you
shall have 'em."
No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consterna-
tion. Lord Colambre ordered that Larry should have some
dinner, and whilst the postillion was eating, and the horses
finishing their oats, his lordship wrote the following letter to
his father, which, to prevent all possibility of accident, he deter-
x
STORIES OF IRELAND.
mined to put with his own hand into the post-office at Clon-
brony as he passed through the town:
210
"MY DEAR FATHER, I hope to be with you in a few days.
Lest anything should detain me on the road, I write this to
make an earnest request that you will not sign any papers or
transact any further business with Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis
Garraghty before you see
"Your affectionate son,
"COLAMBRE."
The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready, and
Lord Colambre, having first eaten a slice of his own venison,
ran down to the carriage, followed by the thanks and blessings
of the widow, her son and daughter, who could hardly make
their way after him to the chaise-door, so great was the crowd
which had gathered on the report of his lordship's arrival.
CC
Long life to your honour! Long life to your lordship!
echoed on all sides. "Just come, and going, are you?"
"
M
Good-bye to you all, good people!"
Then, good-bye is the only word we wouldn't wish to hear
from your honour."
CC
"For the sake both of landlord and tenant I must leave you
now, my good friends; but I hope to return to you at some
future time."
God bless you and speed ye! and a safe journey to your
honour!—and a happy return to us, and soon!" cried a multi-
tude of voices.
Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door, and beckoned to
the widow O'Neil, before whom others had pressed. An open-
ing was made for her instantly.
"There! That was the very way his father stood, with his
foot on the step. And Miss Nugent was in it."
Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say. With some
difficulty he recollected.
grace!"
'This pocket-book," he said, "which your son restored to me,
I intend for your daughter. Don't keep it, as your son kept it,
for me, without opening it. Let what is inside," added he, as
he got into the carriage, "replace the cloak and gown, and let
all things necessary for a bride be bought, for the bride that
has all things to borrow has surely mickle to do.' Shut the
door and drive on."
C
(C
Blessings be wid
you,” cried the widow, " and God give you
1
Į
-
1
1J
F
}
퉬
​THE ABSENTEE.
211
CHAPTER XIII.
LARRY drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good rate till
he got out of the great gate and beyond the sight of the crowd.
Then pulling up, he turned to Lord Colambre.
Plase your honour, I did not know nor guess ye was my
lord when I let you have the horses: did not know who you
was from Adam, I'll take my affidavit."
"There's no occasion," said Lord Colambre;
"I hope you
don't repent letting me have the horses, now you do know who
I am ?'
"Oh! not at all, sure. I'm as glad as the best horse ever I
crossed that your honour is my lord; but I was only telling
your honour, that you might not be looking upon me as a time-
sarver."
"C
'I do not look upon you as a 'time-sarver,' Larry; but keep
on, that time may serve me.
""
In two words he explained his cause of haste, and it was no
sooner explained than understood. Larry thundered away
through the town of Clonbrony, bending over his horses, plying
the whip, and lending his very soul at every lash. With much
difficulty Lord Colambre stopped him at the end of the town,
at the post-office. The post had gone.
~~66
Maybe we'll overtake the mail," said Larry; and as he
spoke he slid down from his seat, and darted into the public-
house, reappearing in a few moments with a copper of ale and
a horn in his hand. He and another man held open the horses'
mouths, and poured the ale through the horn down their
throats.
"Now, they'll go with spirit!"
And with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made them
go
"for life or death," as he said; but in vain. At the next
stage, at his own inn-door, Larry roared for fresh horses till he
got them, harnessed them with his own hands, holding the six-
shilling piece which Lord Colambre had given him in his mouth
all the while, for he could not take time to put it into his
pocket.
CC
<<
con-
Speed ye! I wish I was driving you all the way, then," said
he. The other postillion was not yet ready.
"Then your
honour sees," said he, putting his head into the carriage,
sarning of them Garraghties-old Nick and St. Dennis-the best
part, that is, the worst part, of what I told you, proved true;
and I'm glad of it—that is, I'm sorry for it, but glad your honcur
knows it in time. So Heaven prosper you! And may all the
saints (barring St. Dennis) have charge of you, and all belonging
to you, till we see you here again! And when will it be ?"
7
A
{
}
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I will do
my best to send your landlord to you soon. In the meantime,
my good fellow, keep away from the sign of the Horseshoe. - A
man of your sense, to drink and make an idiot and a brute of
yourself!"
212
"True! And it was only when I had lost hope I took to it;
but now-
Bring me the book, one of yees, out of the landlady's
parlour. By the virtue of this book, and by all the books that
ever was shut and opened, I won't touch a drop of spirits, good
or bad, till I see your honour again, or some of the family, this
time twelvemonth-that long I live on hope. But mind, if you
disappint me, I don't swear but I'll take to the whisky for
comfort all the rest of my days. But don't be staying here,
wasting your time advising me. Bartley, take the reins, can't
ye?" cried he, giving them to the fresh postillion; "and keep on
for your life, for there's thousands of pounds depending on the
race. So off, off, Bartley, with the speed of light!"
Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the roads
that, notwithstanding the rate at which our hero travelled, he
arrived safely in Dublin just in time to put his letter into the
post-office, and to sail in that night's packet. The wind
was fair
when Lord Colambre went on board, but before they got out of
the bay it changed; they made no way all night. In the course
of the next day they had the mortification of seeing another
packet from Dublin sail past them, and when they landed at
Holyhead were told the packet which had left Ireland twelve
hours after them had arrived an hour before them. The pas-
sengers had taken their places in the coach, and engaged what
horses could be had. Lord Colambre was afraid that Mr. Gar-
raghty was one of them, as a person exactly answering his
description had taken four horses, and set out half-an-hour before
in great haste for London. Luckily, just as those who had taken
their places in the mail were getting into the coach, Lord
Colambre saw among them a gentleman with whom he had been
acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who was come over during the
long vacation to make a tour of pleasure in England. When
Lord Colambre explained the reason he had for being in haste to
reach London, he had the good nature to give up to him his place
in the coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night, and delayed
not one moment till he reached his father's house in London.
CC
My father at home?"
"Yes, my lord, in his own room-the agent from Ireland with
him, on particular business-desired not to be interrupted; but
I'll go and tell him, my lord, you are come."
""
Lord Colambre ran past the servant as he spoke-made his
way into the room-found his father, Sir Terence O'Fay, and
Mr. Garraghty-leases open on the table before them; a candle
1
}
5
1
THE ABSENTEE.
213
lighted; Sir Terence sealing; Garraghty emptying a bag of
guineas on the table, and Lord Clonbrony actually with a pen
his hand, ready to sign.
in
As the door opened Garraghty started back, so that half the
contents of his bag rolled upon the floor.
"Stop, my dear father, I conjure you," cried Lord Colambre,
springing forward, and snatching the pen from his hand.
"Colambre! God bless you, my dear boy, at all events. But
how came you here? And what do you mean?" said his father.
"Burn it!" cried Sir Terence, pinching the sealing-wax;
"for I burnt myself with the pleasure of the surprise."
Garraghty, without saying a word, was picking up the guineas
that were scattered upon the floor.
"How fortunate I am,” cried Lord Colambre, " to have arrived
just in time to tell you, my dear father, before you put your
signature to these papers, before you conclude this bargain, all
I know, all I have seen, of that man.
رد
"Nick Garraghty-honest Old Nick. Do you know him, my
lord ?" said Terence.
"Too well, sir."
Mr. Garraghty, what have you done to offend my son? I
did not expect this," said Lord Clonbrony.
(C
'Upon my conscience, my lord, nothing to my knowledge,"
said Mr. Garraghty, picking up the guineas, "but showed him
every civility, even so far as offering to accommodate him with
cash without security; and where will you find the other agent
in Ireland, or anywhere else, will do that? To my knowledge
I never did anything, by word or deed, to offend Lord Colambre,
nor could not, for I never saw him but for ten minutes in my
days; and then he was in such a foaming passion, begging his
lordship's pardon, owing to the misrepresentations he met with
of me, I presume from a parcel of blackguards that he went
amongst incognito, he would not let me or my brother Dennis
say a word to set him right, but exposed me before all the
tenantry, and then threw himself into a hack, and drove off
here to stop the signing of these leases, I perceive. But I
trust," concluded he, putting the replenished money-bag down
with a heavy sound on the table, opposite to Lord Clonbrony,
"I trust my Lord Clonbrony will do me justice. That's all I
have to say.
>>
(C
CC
I comprehend the force of your last argument fully, sir,"
said Lord Colambre. May I ask how many guineas there
are in the bag? I don't ask whether they are my father's or
not."
(C
They are to be your lordship's father's, sir, if he thinks
proper," replied Garraghty. "How many I don't know that I
can justly, positively'say-five hundred, suppose."
1
214
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"And they would be my father's if he signed those leases.
I understand that perfectly, and that my father would lose
three times that sum by the bargain. My dear father, you
start; but it is true. Is not this the rent, sir, at which you are
going to let Mr. Garraghty have the land?" placing a paper
before Lord Clonbrony.
CC
It is the very thing."
And here, sir, written with my own hand, are copies of the
proposals I saw, from responsible, respectable tenants, offered
and refused. Is it so, or is it not, Mr. Garraghty? Deny it if
""
you can.
66
;
Mr. Garraghty grew pale; his lips quivered; he stammered;
and after a shocking convulsion of face could at last articulate
only-
"That there was a great difference between tenant and
tenant, his lordship must be sensible, especially for so large
rent."
As great a difference as between agent and agent, I am
sensible, especially for so large a property!" said Lord Colambre,
with cool-contempt. “You find, sir, I am well informed with
regard to this transaction. You will find also that I am equally
well informed with respect. to every part of your conduct
towards my father and his tenantry. If, in relating to him
what I have seen and heard, I should make any mistakes, you
are here and I am glad you are-to set me right, and to do
yourself justice."
"Oh! as to that, I should not presume to contradict any-
thing your lordship asserts from your own authority. Where
would be the use? I leave it all to your lordship. But as it is
not particularly agreeable to stay to hear one's self abused
Sir Terence, I'll thank you to hand me my hat. And if you'll
have the goodness, my Lord Cloubrony, to look over finally
the accounts before morning, I'll call, at your leisure, to settle
the balance as you find convenient. As to the leases, I'm quite
indifferent." So saying, he took up his money-bag.
Well, you'll call again in the morning, Mr. Garraghty?
said Sir Terence; "and by that time I hope we shall understand
this misunderstanding better."
"Don't let him
CC
Sir Terence pulled Lord Clonbrony's sleeve.
go with the money; it's much wanted!'
"Let him go," said Lord Colambre.
honourable means."
""
(C
Money can be had by -
"Whew! He talks as if he had the Bank of England at his
command, as every young man does," said Sir Terence.
Lord Colambre deigned no reply. Lord Clonbrony walked
undecidedly between his agent and his son, looked at Sir
Terence, and said nothing.
1
1
THE ABSENTEE.
:
215
Mr. Garraghty departed. Lord Clonbrony called after him
from the head of the stairs:
"I shall be at home and at leisure in the morning."
Sir Terence ran downstairs after him; and Lord Colambre
waited quietly for their return.
Fifteen hundred guineas at a stroke of a goose-quill! That
was a neat hit narrowly missed of honest Nick's!" said Lord
Clonbrony. "Too bad, too bad, faith! I am much, very
much obliged to you, Colambre, for that hint. By to-morrow
morning we shall have him in another tune.”
"And he must double the bag or quit," said Sir Terence.
"Treble it, if you please, Terry. Sure, three time's five's
fifteen. Fifteen hundred down, or he does not get my signature
to those leases for his brother, nor get the agency of the
Colambre estate. Colambre, what more have you to tell of him?
For since he is making out his accounts against me, it is no
harm to have a per contra against him that may ease my
balance.
CC
"Very fair, very fair!" said Sir Terence. 'My lord, trust
me for remembering all the charges against him-every item.
And when he can't clear himself, if I don't make him buy a good
character dear enough, why, say I'm a fool, and don't know the
value of character, good or bad.'
"If you know the value of character, Sir Terence," said Lord
Colambre, "you know that it is not to be bought or sold." Then
turning from Sir Terence to his father, he gave a full and true
account of all he had seen in his progress through his Irish
estates, and drew a faithful picture both of the bad and good
agent. Lord Clonbrony, who had benevolent feelings and was
fond of his tenantry, was touched, and when his son ceased
speaking, repeated several times—
"Rascal !-rascal! How dare he use my tenants so-the
O'Neils in particular? Rascal!-bad heart! I'll have no more
to do with him." But suddenly recollecting himself, he turned
to Sir Terence, and added, "That's sooner said than done. I'll
tell you honestly, Colambre, your friend Mr. Burke may be the
best man in the world, but he is the worst man to apply to for a
remittance or a loan in a hurry! He always tells me he can't
distress the tenants.'
"And he never, at coming into the agency even," said Sir
Terence, "advanced a good round sum to the landlord by way
of security for his good behaviour. Now, honest Nick did that
much for us at coming in."
"And at going out is he not to be repaid?" said Lord
Colambre.
"That's the devil!" said Lord Clonbrony; "that's the very
reason I can't conveniently turn him out."
靠
​216
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"I will make it convenient to you, sir, if you will permit me,"
said Lord Colambre. "In a few days I shall be of age, and will
join with you in raising whatever sum you want to free you from
this man. Allow me to look over his account, and whatever the
honest balance may be, let him have it.”
"My dear boy," said Lord Clonbrony, "you're a generous
fellow. Fine Irish heart! Glad you're my son! But there's
more, much more, that you don't know," added he, looking at
Sir Terence, who cleared his throat; and Lord Clonbrony, who
was on the point of opening all his affairs to his son, stopped
short.
CC
**
Colambre," said he, we will not say anything more of this
at present, for nothing effectual can be done till you are of age,
and then we shall see all about it."
Lord Columbre perfectly understood what his father meant,
and what was meant by the clearing of Sir Terence's throat.
Lord Clonbrony wanted his son to join him in opening the estate
to pay his debts, and Sir Terence feared that if Lord Colambre
were abruptly told the whole sum total of the debts, he would
never be persuaded to join in selling or mortgaging so much of
his patrimony as would be necessary for their payment. Sir
Terence thought that the young man, ignorant probably of
business, and unsuspicious of the state of his father's affairs,
might be brought by proper management to any measures they
desired. Lord Clonbrony wavered between the temptation to
throw himself upon the generosity of his son and the immediate
convenience of borrowing a sum of money from his agent to
relieve his present embarrassments.
(6
Nothing can be settled," repeated he, "till Colambre is of
age; so it does not signify talking of it."
•
Why so, sir?" said Lord Colambre; "though my act in law
may not be valid till I am of age, my promise as a man of
honour is binding now; and I trust would be as satisfactory
to my father as any legal deed whatever."
(6
Undoubtedly, my dear boy; but
"But what ?" said Lord Colambre, following his father's eye,
which turned to Sir Terence O'Fay, as if asking his permission
to explain.
66
As my father's friend, sir, you ought, permit me to say, at
this moment to use your influence to prevail upon him to throw
aside all reserve with a son whose warmest wish is to serve him
and to see him at ease and happy."
66
"Terence, I
Generous dear boy!" cried Lord Clonbrony.
can't stand it; but how shall I bring myself to name the amount
of the debts ?
""
66
'At some time or other I must know that," said Lord
Colambre; "I cannot be better prepared at any moment than
*
ام
THE ABSENTEE.
217
the present-never more disposed-to give my assistance to
relieve all difficulties. Blindfold I cannot be led to any purpose,
sir," said he, looking at Sir Terence: "the attempt would be
degrading and futile. Blindfolded I will not be; but with my
eyes open I will see, and go straight and prompt as heart can
to my father's interest, without a look or thought to my own.
(6
By St. Patrick! the spirit of a prince, and an Irish prince,
spoke there," cried Sir Terence; "and if I'd fifty hearts, you'd
have all in your hand this minute, at your service, and warm.
Blindfold you! After that the man that would attempt it de-
sarves to be shot; and I'd have no sincerer pleasure in life than
sliooting him this moment, were he my best friend. But it's not
Clonbrony, or your father, my lord, would act that way, no more
than Sir Terence O'Fay. There's the schelule of the debts,"
drawing a paper from his bosom; "and I'll swear to the lot,
and not a man on earth could do that but myself."
Lord Colambre opened the paper. His father turned aside,
covering his face with both his hands.
(6
"Tut! man," said Sir Terence; "I know him now better than
you. He will stand, you'll find, the shock of that regiment of
figures he is steel to the backbone, and proof spirit.")
"I thank you, my dear father," said Lord Colambre, "for
trusting me thus at once with a view of the truth. At first sight
it is, I acknowledge, worse than I expected; but I make no
doubt that when you allow me to examine Mr. Garraghty's
accounts and Mr. Mordicai's claims, we shall be able to reduce
this alarming total considerably. My dear father, you think we
learn nothing but Latin and Greek at Cambridge; but you are
mistaken."
""
"The devil a pound nor a penny," said Sir Terence; "for
you have to deal with a Jew and Old Nick; and since I'm
not a match for them, I don't know who is; and I have no
hope of getting any abatement. I've looked over the accounts
till I'm sick."
66
Nevertheless, you will observe that fifteen hundred guineas
have been saved to my father at one stroke by his not signing
those leases."
Saved to you, my lord; not your father, if you plase," said
Sir Terence. "For now I'm upon the square with you, I must
be straight as an arrow, and deal with you as the son and friend
of my friend. Before, I was considering you only as the son
and heir; which is quite another thing, you know. Acting for
your father here, I was making the best bargain against you I
could: honestly, now, I tell you. I knew the value of the lands
well enough; I was as sharp as Garraghty, and he knew it;
I was to have had for your father the difference from him, partly
in cash and partly in balance of accounts-you comprehend-
"
}
1
*
218
STORIES OF IRELAND.
and you only would have been the loser, and never would have
known it, maybe, till after we all were dead and buried; and
then you might have set aside Garraghty's lease easy, and no
harm done to any but a rogue that desarved it; and in the mean-
time an accommodation to my honest friend, my lord, your
father, here. But, as fate would have it, you upset all by your
progress incognito through them estates. Well, it's best as it
is, and I am better pleased to be as we are, trusting all to a
generous son's own heart. Now put the poor father out of pain,
and tell us what you'll do, my dear."
"In one word, then,” said Lord Colambre; “I will, upon two
conditions, either join my father in levying fines to enable him
to sell or mortgage whatever portion of his estate is necessary
for the payment of these debts; or I will, in whatever mode he
can point out as more agreeable or more advantageous to him,
join in giving security to his creditors."
<<
Dear, noble fellow!" cried Sir Terence; "none but an Irish-
man could do it."
Lord Clonbrony, melted to tears, could not articulate, but held
his arms open to embrace his son.
}
"But you have not heard my conditions yet," said Lord
Colambre.
CC
Oh, confound the conditions!" cried Sir Terence.
"What conditions could he ask that I could refuse at this -
minute ?" said Lord Clonbrony.
Nor I, was it my heart's blood, and were I to be hanged for
it," cried Sir Terence. "And what are the conditions ? "
"That Mr. Garraghty shall be dismissed from the agency."
"And welcome, and glad to get rid of him-the rogue, the
tyrant," said Lord Clonbrony; "and, to be beforehand with you
in your next wish, put Mr. Burke into his place.'
""
"C
I'll write the letter for you to sign, my lord, this minute,
cried Terry, "with all the pleasure in life. No; it's my Lord
Colambre should do that, in all justice."
"But what's your next condition ? I hope it's no worse,
said Lord Clonbrony.
،، That you and my
my mother should cease to be absentees."
"Oh murder!" said Sir Terence; "maybe that's not so
easy; for there are two words to that bargain.'
Lord Clonbrony declared that, for his own part, he was ready
to return to Ireland next morning, and to promise to reside on
his estate all the rest of his days; that there was nothing he
desired more, provided Lady Clonbrony would consent to it.
He added that he could not promise for her; that she was as
obstinate as a mule on that point; that he had often tried, but
that there was no moving her; and that, in short, he could not
promise on her part.
>>
""
菱
​1
ܐܝܚ
5
THE ABSENTEE.
219
But it was on this condition, Lord Colambre said, he must
insist; on no other terms could he engage to do anything.
(C
Well, we must only see how it will be when she comes to
town. She will come up from Buxton the day you're of age, to
sign some papers," said Lord Clonbrony: "but," added he, with
a very dejected look and voice, “if all's to depend on my Lady
Clonbrony's consenting to return to Ireland, I'm as far from all
hope of being at ease as ever."
CC
Upon my conscience, we're all at sea again," said Sir
Terence.
Lord Colambre was silent; but in his silence there was such
an air of firmness that both Lord Clonbrony and Sir Terence
were convinced entreaties would on this point be fruitless.
Lord Clonbrony sighed deeply.
"But when it's ruin or safety, and her husband and all
belonging to her at stake, the woman can't persist in being a
mule," said Sir Terence.
“Of whom are you talking, sir?” said Lord Colambre.
"Of whom? Oh, I beg your lordship's pardon; I thought I
was talking to my lord; but, in other words, as you are her son,
I'm persuaded her ladyship, your mother, will prove herself a
reasonable woman-when she sees she can't help it. So, my
Lord Cloubrony, cheer np; a great deal may be done by the fear
of Mordicai and an execution, especially now there's no prior
creditor. Since there's no reserve between you and me now, my
Lord Colambre," said Sir Terence, "I must tell you all, and
how we managed to get on those months while you were in
Ireland. First, Mordicai went to law, to prove I was in a con-
spiracy with your father, pretending to be prior creditor, to keep
him off and out of his own; which, after a world of swearing
and law-law always takes time to do justice, that's one com-
fort-the villain proved at last to be true enough, and so cast
us; and I was forced to be paid off last week. So there's no
prior creditor, or any shield of pretence that way. Then his
execution was coming down upon us, and nothing to stay it, till
I thought of a monthly annuity to Mordicai in the shape of a
wager. So, the morning after he cast us, I went to him: Mr.
Mordicai,' says I, 'you must be plased to see a man you've
beaten so handsomely; and though I'm sore both for myself
and my friend, yet you see I can laugh still, though an execu-
tion is no laughing matter, and I'm sinsible you've one in your
sleeve for my friend Lord Clonbrony. But I'll lay you a wager
of a hundred guineas in paper that a marriage of his son with
an heiress, before next Lady-day, will set all to rights, and pay
you with a compliment too.'
Good heavens, Sir Terence! surely you said no such
thing ?"
1
1
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"I did; but what was it but a wager, which is nothing but a
dream; and, when lost, as I am as sinsible as you are that it
must be, why what is it, after all, but a bonus, in a gentleman-
like form, to Mordicai-which, I grant you, is more than he
deserves-for staying the execution till you be of age; and even
for my Lady Clonbrony's sake, though I know she hates me like
pison, rather than have her disturbed by an execution I'd pay
the hundred guineas this minute out of my own pocket—if I had
'em in it."
220
A thundering knock at the door was heard at this moment.
"Never heed it; let 'em thunder," said Sir Terence :
"who-
ever it is, they won't get in, for my lord bid them let none in
for their life. It's necessary for us to be very particular about
the street-door now; and I advise a double chain for it, and to
have the footmen well tutored to look before they run to a double
rap; for a double rap might be a double trap."
'My lady and Miss Nugent, my lord," said a footman, throw-
ing open the door.
،،
My mother! Miss Nugent!" cried Lord Colambre, springing
eagerly forward.
CC
Colambre here!" said his mother. "But it's all too late
now, and no matter where you are."
Lady Clonbrony coldly suffered her son to embrace her; and
he, without considering the coldness of her manner, scarcely
hearing and not at all understanding the words she said, fixed
his eyes on his cousin, who, with a countenance all radiant with
affectionate joy, held out her hand to him.
Dear cousin Colambre! What an unexpected pleasure!"
He seized her hand; but as he was going to kiss it the recol-
lection of St. Omar crossed his mind; he checked himself, and
said something about joy and pleasure, but his countenance
expressed neither; and Miss Nugent, much surprised by the
coldness of his manner, withdrew her hand, and, turning away,
left the room.
(6
"C
Grace, darling! called Lord Clonbrony, "whither so fast,
before you've given me a word or a kiss ?”
She came back, and hastily kissed her uncle, who folded her
in his arms.
65
در
Why must I let you ago? And what makes you so pale,
my dear child ?"
"6
'I am a little tired; I will be with you again soon.'
Her uncle let her go.
"Your famous Buxton baths don't seem to have agreed with
her, by all I can see," said Lord Clonbrony.
CC
My lord, the Buxton baths are no way to blame; but I
know what is to blame, and who is to blame," said Lady Clon-
brony in a tone of displeasure, fixing her eyes upon her son.
Į
1
!
<<
THE ABSENTEE.
I
"Yes, you may well look confounded, Colambre; but it is too
late now-you should have known your own mind in time.
see you have heard it, then; but I am sure I don't know how;
for it was only decided the day I left Buxton. The news
could hardly travel faster than I did. Pray how did you
hear it?"
((
܂
Hear what?" said Lord Colambre.
Why, that Miss Broadhurst is going to be married."
Oh, is that all?" said our bero, much relieved.
221
"All! Now, Lord Colambre, you reelly are too much for my
patience. But I flatter myself you will feel when I tell you
that it is your friend Sir Arthur Berryl, as I always prophesied,
who has carried off the prize from you."
But for the fear of displeasing my dear mother, I should
say that I do feel sincere pleasure in this marriage. I always
wished it. My friend Sir Arthur from the first moment trusted
me with the secret of his attachment; he knew that he had my
warm good wishes for his success; he knew that I thought
most highly of the young lady, but that I never thought of her
as a wife for myself."
*
That is the very thing I complain of," said Lady Clonbrony.
'But it is all over now. You may set your heart at ease, for
they are to be married on Thursday; and poor Mrs. Broadhurst
is ready to break her heart, for she was set upon a coronet for
her daughter; and you, ungrateful as you are, you don't know
how she wished you to be the happy man. But only conceive,
after all that had passed, Miss Broadhurst had the assurance
to expect I would let my niece be her bridemaid. Oh, I flatly
refused; that is, I told Grace it could not be; and, that there
might be no affront to Mrs. Broadhurst, who did not deserve it,
I pretended Grace had never mentioned it; but ordered my
carriage, and left Buxton directly. Grace was hurt, for she is
very warm in her friendships. I am sorry to hurt Grace; but
reelly I could not let her be bridemaid. And that, if you must
know, is what vexed her, and made the tears come in her eyes,
I suppose and I'm sorry for it; but one must keep up one's
dignity a little. After all, Miss Broadhurst was only a citizen;
and reelly, now, a very odd girl-never did anything like any-
body else; settled her marriage at last in the oddest way.
Grace can tell you the particulars. I own I am tired of the
subject, and tired of my journey. My lord, I shall take leave
to dine in my own room to-day,” continued her ladyship as she
quitted the room.
"I hope her ladyship did not notice me," said Sir Terence
O'Fay, coming from behind a window-curtain.
"C
Why, Terry, what did you hide for?" said Lord Clonbrony.
"Hide! I didn't hide, nor wouldn't from any man living, let
i
the
>
222
STORIES OF IRELAND.
alone any woman.¹ Hide! No; but I just stood looking out of
the window behind this curtain, that my poor Lady Clonbrony
might not be discomfited and shocked by the sight of one whom
she can't abide, the very minute she came home. Oh, I've
some consideration. It would have put her out of humour worse
with both of you, too; and for that there's no need, as far as I
see. So I'll take myself off to my coffee-house to dine, and
maybe you may get her down and into spirits again. But, for
your lives, don't touch upon Ireland to-night, nor till she has
fairly got the better of the marriage. Apropos-there's my
wager to Mordicai gone at a slap. It's I that ought to be scold-
ing you, Lord Colambre; but I trust you will do as well yet-
not in point of purse, maybe. But I'm not one of those that
think that money's everything-though, I grant you, in this
world there's nothing to be had without it-love excepted,
which most people don't believe in; but not I-in particular
cases. So I leave you with my blessing, and I've a notion,
at this time, that is better than my company. Your most
devoted."
The good-natured Sir Terence would not be persuaded by
Lord Clonbrony to stay. Nodding at Lord Colambre as he
went out of the room, he said, "I've an eye in going to your
heart's ease too. When I played myself, I never liked standers-
by."
Sir Terence was not deficient in penetration, but he never
could help boasting of his discoveries.
Lord Colambre was grateful for his judicious departure; and
followed his equally judicious advice, not to touch upon Ireland
this night.
Lady Clonbrony was full of Buxton, and he was glad to be
relieved from the necessity of talking; and he indulged himself
in considering what might be passing in Miss Nugent's mind.
She now appeared in remarkably good spirits, for her aunt had
given her a hint that she thought her out of humour because
she had not been permitted to be Miss Broadhurst's bridemaid,
and she was determined to exert herself to dispel this notion.
This it was now easy for her to do, because she had by this
time, in her own imagination, found a plausible excuse for that
coldness in Lord Colambre's reception of her, by which she had
at first been hurt. She had settled it that he had taken it for
granted she was of his mother's sentiments respecting Miss
Broadhurst's marriage, and that this idea, and perhaps the
apprehension of her reproaches, had caused this embarrassment;
she knew that she could easily set this misunderstanding right.
Accordingly, when Lady Clonbrony had talked herself to sleep
1 Leaving any woman out of the question.
THE ABSENTEE.
223
about Buxton, and was taking her afternoon's nap, as it was her
custom to do when she had neither cards nor company to keep
her awake, Miss Nugent began to explain her own sentiments,
and to give Lord Colambre, as her aunt had desired, an account
of the manner in which Miss Broadhurst's marriage had been
settled.
"In the first place," said she, "let me assure you that I
rejoice in this marriage. I think your friend Sir Arthur Berryl
is every way deserving of my friend Miss Broadhurst; and
this from me," said she, smiling, "is no slight eulogium. I
have marked the rise and progress of their attachment, and it
has been founded on the perception of such excellent qualities
on each side that I have no fear for its permanence. Sir Arthur
Berryl's honourable conduct in paying his father's debts, and
his generosity to his mother and sisters, whose fortunes were
left entirely dependent upon him, first pleased my friend. It
was like what she would have done herself, and like-in short,
it is what few young men, as she said, of the present day would
do. Then his refraining from all personal expenses, his going
without equipage and without horses, that he might do what he
felt to be right, whilst it exposed him continually to the ridicule
of fashionable young men, or to the charge of avarice, made a
very different impression on Miss Broadhurst's mind. Her
esteem and admiration were excited by these proofs of strength
of character, and of just and good principles.
"If you go on you will make me envious and jealous of my
friend," said Lord Colambre.
"You jealous! Oh, it's too late now; besides you cannot be
jealous, for you never loved."
"I never loved Miss Broadhurst, I acknowledge."
"There was the advantage Sir Arthur Berryl had over you;
he loved, and my friend saw it."
"She was clear-sighted," said Lord Colambre.
'She was clear-sighted," repeated Miss Nugent; "but if
you mean that she was vain, and apt to faucy people in love
with her, I can assure you that you are mistaken. Never was
woman, young or old, more clear-sighted to the views of those
by whom she was addressed. No flattery, no fashion, could
blind her judgment."
"She knew how to choose a friend well, I am sure," said
Lord Colambre.
"And a friend for life, too, I am sure you will allow; and she
had such numbers, such strange variety of admirers, as might
have puzzled the choice and turned the brain of any inferior
person. Such a succession of lovers as she has had this last
summer, ever since you went to Ireland-they appeared and
vanished like figures in a magic-lantern. She had three noble
}
1
}
224
STORIES OF IRELAND.
admirers; rank in three different forms offered themselves.
First came in, hobbling, rank and gout; next, rank and gaming;
then rank, very high rank, over head and ears in debt. All of
these were rejected; and as they moved off I thought Mrs.
Broadhurst would have broken her heart. Next came fashion,
with his head, heart, and soul, in his cravat; he quickly made
his bow, or rather his nod, and walked off, taking a pinch of
snuff. Then came a man of gallantry."
66
Ay," said Lord Colambre, "your friend would have nothing
to do with that gentleman."
Be that as it may," said Miss Nugent, "my friend did not
like and would not accept of the man of gallantry; so he re-
tired, and comforted himself with a copy of verses.
Then came
a man of wit-wit without worth;' and presently came 'worth
without wit.' She preferred wit and worth united,' which
she fortunately at last found, Lord Colambre, in your friend Sir
Arthur Berryl.
CC
I
Grace, my girl!" said her uncle, "I am glad to see you've
got up your spirits again, though you were not to be bridemaid.
Well, I hope you'll be bride soon-I'm sure you ought to be-
and you should think of rewarding that poor Mr. Salisbury,
who plagues me to death, whenever he can catch hold of me, about
you. He must have our definitive at last, you know, Grace."
A silence ensued, which neither Miss Nugent nor Lord Co-
lambre seemed inclined to break.
66
Very good company, faith, you three! One of ye asleep,
and the other two saying nothing to keep one awake. Colambre,
have you no Dublin news? Grace, have you no Buxton scandal ?
What was it Lady Clonbrony told us you'd tell us about the
oddness of Miss Broadhurst's settling her marriage. Tell me
that, for I love to hear odd things."
*C
Perhaps you will not think it odd,” said Miss Nugent.
"One
evening- But I should begin by telling you that three of her
admirers, in addition to Sir Arthur Berryl, had followed her to
Buxton, and had been paying their court to her all the time we
were there, and at last grew impatient for her decision."
"Ay-for her definitive," said Lord Clonbrony.
Nugent, was put out again, but resumed:
Miss
So one evening, just before the dancing began, the gentle-
men were all standing round Miss Broadhurst, when one of them
said, I wish Miss Broadhurst would decide that whoever she
dances with to-night should be her partner for life: what a
happy man he would be!' 'But how can I decide?' said Miss
Broadhurst. 'I wish I had a friend to plead for me!' said one
of the suitors, looking at me. 'Have you no friend of your own? "
said Miss Broadhurst. 'Plenty of friends,' said the gentleman.
6
Plenty! Then you must be a very happy man,' replied Miss
{
THE ABSENTEE.
225
Broadhurst. 'Come,' said she, laughing, 'I will dance with that
man who can convince me that he has, near relations excepted,
one true friend in the world! That man who has attached the best
friend I dare say will make the best husband.' At that moment,"
continued Miss Nugent, "I was certain who would be her
choice. The gentlemen all declared at first that they had
abundance of excellent friends-the best friends in the world;
but when Miss Broadhurst cross-examined them as to what
their friends had done for them, or what they were willing to do,
modern friendship dwindled into a ridiculously small compass.
I cannot give you the particulurs of the cross-examination, though
it was conducted with great spirit and humour by Miss Broad-
hurst; but I can tell you the result-that Sir Arthur Berryl, by
incontrovertible facts, and eloquence warm from the heart, con-
virced everybody present that he had the best friend in the
world. Miss Broadhurst, as he finished speaking, gave him
her hand, and he led her off in triumph. So you see, Lord
Colambre, you were at last the cause of my friend's marriage!'
Grace Nugent turned to Lord Colambre, as she spoke these
words, with such an affectionate smile, and such an expression
of open, artless tenderness in her whole countenance, that our
hero could hardly resist the impulse of his passion-could hardly
restrain himself from falling at her feet that instant, and
declaring his love "But St. Omar! St. Omar! It must not
be!"
ܕ
"I must be gone!" said Lord Clonbrony, pulling out his
watch. "It is time to go to my club; and poor Terry will
wonder what has become of me."
Lord Colambre instantly offered to accompany his father;
much to Lord Clonbrony's, and more to Miss Nugent's surprise.
“What!” said she to herself, "after so long an absence, leave
me! Leave his mother, with whom he always used to stay-on
purpose to avoid me! What can I have done to displease him?
It is clear it was not about Miss Broadhurst's marriage that he
was offended; for he looked pleased and like himself whilst I
was talking of that, but the moment afterwards, what a con-
strained unintelligible expression of countenance-and leaves me
to go to a club, which he detests!"
As the gentlemen shut the door on quitting the room, Lady
Clonbrony awoke, and, starting up, exclaimed:
"What's the matter? Are they gone? Is Colambre gone?
"Yes, with my uncle."
66
He always
used to stay with me.
Very odd! very odd of him, to go and leave me.
What did he say about me?"
66
Nothing, ma'am."
CC
Well, then I have nothing to say about him, or about any-
thing indeed, for I'm excessively tired and stupid-alone in
H
و
Fir
226
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Lon'on's as bad as anywhere else. Ring the bell, and we'll go
to bed directly—if you have no objection, Grace."
Grace made no objection. Lady Clonbrony went to bed, and
to sleep in ten minutes. Miss Nugent went to bed, but she lay
awake considering what could be the cause of her cousin Co-
lambre's hard unkindness, and of "his altered eye." She was
openness itself; and she determined that the first moment she
could speak to him alone she would ask for an explanation.
With this resolution, she rose in the morning, and went down to
the breakfast-room, in hopes of meeting him. He was generally
an early riser, and she expected to find him reading in his usual
place.
CHAPTER XIV.
No; Lord Colambre was not in his accustomed place, reading
in the breakfast-room; nor did he make his appearance till both
his father and mother had been some time at breakfast.
CC
Good-morning to you, Lord Colambre," said his mother, in
a reproachful tone, the moment he entered; "I am much
obliged to you for your company last night.”
CC
Good-morning to you, Colambre," said his father, in a more
jocose tone of reproach; "I am obliged to you for your good
company last night."
66
Good-morning to you, Lord Colambre," said Miss Nugent;
and though she endeavoured to throw all reproach from her
looks and to let none be heard in her voice, yet there was a
slight tremulous motion in that voice which struck our hero to
the heart.
"I thank you for missing me," said he, addressing himself to
his mother; "I stayed away but half-an-hour. I accompanied
my father to St. James's Street, and when I returned I found
that every one had retired to rest.”
"Oh, was that the case ?" said Lady Clonbrony. "I own I
thought it very unlike you to leave me in that sort of way."
"And, lest you should be jealous of that half-hour when he
was accompanying me," said Lord Clonbrony, "I must remark,
that though I had his body with me, I had none of his mind;
that he left at home with you, ladies, or with some fair one
across the water, for the deuce two words did he bestow upon
me, with all his pretence of accompanying me."
"Lord Colambre seems to have a fair chance of a pleasant
breakfast," said Miss Nugent, smiling; "reproaches on all
sides."
"
THE ABSENTEE.
227
"I have heard none on your side, Grace," said Lord Clonbrony;
"and that's the reason, I suppose, he wisely takes his seat beside
you. But come, we will not badger you any more, my dear boy.
We have given him as fine a complexion, amongst us, as if he
had been out hunting these three hours; have we not, Grace ?"
When Colambre has been a season or two more in Lon'on,
he'll not be so easily put out of countenance," said Lady
Clonbrony; "you don't see young men of fashion here blushing
about nothing."
"No, nor about anything, my dear," said Lord Clonbrony;
"but that's no proof they do nothing they ought to blush for."
"What they do, there's no occasion for ladies to inquire,"
said Lady Clonbrony; "but this I know, that it's a great disad-
vantage to a young man of a certain rank to blush; for no
people who live in a certain set ever do. And it is the most
opposite thing possible to a certain air, which, I own, I think
Colambre wants; and now that he has done travelling in Ireland,
which is no use in pint of giving a gentleman a travelled air, or
anything of that sort, I hope he will put himself under my
conduct for next winter's campaign in town."
Lord Clonbrony looked as if he did not know how to look;
and after drumming on the table for some seconds, said:
"Colambre, I told you how it would be. That hard condition
of yours will prove fatal.”
"Not a hard condition, I hope, my dear father," said Lord
Colambre.
"Hard it must be, since it can't be fulfilled, or won't be ful-
filled-which comes to the same thing,” replied Lord Clonbrony,
sighing.
"I am persuaded that it will be fulfilled," said Lord Colambre;
"I am persuaded that, when my mother hears the truth, and
the whole truth-when she finds that your happiness and the
happiness of her whole family depend upon her yielding her
taste on one subject-
(C
".
CC
Oh, I see now what you are about," cried Lady Clonbrony;
you are coming round with your persuasions and prefaces to
ask me to give up Lon'on and go back with you to Ireland, my
lord. You may save yourselves the trouble, all of you, for no
earthly persuasions shall make me do it. I will never give up
my taste on that pint. My happiness has a right to be as much
considered as your father's, Colambre, or anybody's. And, in
one word, I won't do it," cried she, rising angrily from the
breakfast-table.
"There! did I not tell you how it would be ?" cried Lord
Clonbrony.
"My mother has not heard me yet," said Lord Colambre
laying his hand upon his mother's arm as she attempted to pass,
.
J
I
228
STORIES OF IRELAND.
“hear me, madam, for your own sake. You do not know what
will happen this very day-this very hour, perhaps-if you do
not listen to me.'
"And what will happen ?" said Lady Clonbrony, stopping
short.
"Ay, indeed; she little knows," said Lord Clonbrony, "what's
hanging over her head."
، ،
"Hanging over my head!" said Lady Cionbrony, looking up.
Nonsense! What?
""
"An execution, madam!" said Lord Colambre.
"Gracious me! an execution!" said Lady Clonbrony, sitting
down again; "but I heard you talk of an execution months ago,
my lord, before my son went to Ireland, and it blew over; I
heard no more of it."
"It won't blow over now," said Lord Clonbrony; "you'll hear
more of it now. Sir Terence O'Fay it was, you may remember,
that settled it then.'
"Well, and can't he settle it now? Send for him, since he
understands these cases; and I will ask him to dinner myself,
for your sake, and be very civil to him, my lord.”
"All your civility, either for my sake or your own, will not
signify a straw, my dear, in this case; anything that poor Terry
could do, he'd do, and welcome, without it; but he can do
nothing.'
در
"Nothing! That's very extraordinary. But I'm clear no one
dare to bring a real execution against us, in earnest; and you
are only trying to frighten me to your purpose, like a child; but
it shan't do."
"Very well, my dear; you'll see—too late.”
A knock at the house door.
"Who is it? What is it ?" cried Lord Clonbrony, growing
very pale.
Lord Colambre changed colour too, and ran downstairs.
66
'Don't let 'em let anybody in, for your life, Colambre, under
any pretence," cried Lord Clonbrony, calling from the head of
the stairs. Then running to the window : By all that's good,
it's Mordicai himself, and the people with him!"
،،
"Lean your head on me, my dear aunt," said Miss Nugent.
Lady Clonbrony leant back, trembling, and ready to faint.
"But he's walking off now; the rascal could not get in. Safe
for the present!" cried Lord Clonbrony, rubbing his hands, and
repeating, "Safe for the present!"
LC
Safe for the present!" repeated Lord Colambre, re-entering
the room. "Safe for the present hour."
66
'He could not get in, I suppose; oh, I warned all the servants
well," said Lord Clonbrony, "and so did Terry. Ay, there's
the rascal Mordicai walking off, at the end of the street; I know
ļ
1
{
شما
THE ABSENTEE.
229
his walk a mile off. Gad! I can breathe again. I am glad
he's gone.
But he will come back, and always lie in wait, and
some time or other, when we're off our guard, unawares he'll
slide in."
"Slide in! Oh, horrid!" cried Lady Clonbrony, sitting up, and
wiping away the water which Miss Nugent had sprinkled on her
face.
"Were you much alarmed?" said Lord Colambre, with a
voice of tenderness, looking at his mother first, and then, more
softly still, upon Miss Nugent.
ἐς
Shockingly!" said Lady Clonbrony; "I never thought it
would reelly come to this!"
"It will really come to much more, my dear," said Lord Clon-
brony,
"that you may depend upon, unless you prevent it."
"Lord! what can I do? I know nothing of business. How
should I, Lord Clonbrony? But I know there's Colambre-I
was always told that when he was of age everything should be
settled; and why can't he settle it when he's upon the spot?
And upon one condition I will," cried Lord Colambre,
what loss to myself, my dear mother, I need not mention.'
"Then I will mention it," cried Lord Clonbrony; "at the loss
it will be of nearly half the estate he would have had if we had
not spent it-
""
دو
C C
(C
at
"Loss! Oh, I am excessively sorry my son's to be at such a
loss. It must not be."
"It cannot be otherwise," said Lord Clonbrony;
nor it
can't be this way either, Lady Clonbrony, unless you comply
with his condition, and consent to return to Ireland."
"I cannot-I will not," replied Lady Clonbrony. "Is this
your condition, Colambre? I take it exceedingly ill of you. I
think it very unkind, and unhandsome, and ungenerous, and
undutiful of you, Colambre; you, my son!" She poured forth
a torrent of reproaches; then came to entreaties and tears. But
our hero, prepared for this, had steeled his mind, and he stood
resolved not to indulge his own feelings, or to yield to caprice
or persuasion; but to do that which he knew was best for the
happiness of hundreds of tenants, who depended upon them:
best for both his father and his mother's ultimate happiness and
respectability.
"It's all in vain," cried Lord Clonbrony; "I have no resource
but one; and I must condescend now to go to him this minute,
for Mordicai will be back and seize all. I must sign and leave
all to Garraghty."
"Well, sign, sign, my lord, and settle with Garraghty.
Colambre, I've heard all the complaints you brought over
against that man. My lord spent half the night telling them
to me; but all agents are bad, I suppose; at any rate, I can't
1
ģ
230
STORIES OF IRELAND.
help it. Sign, sign, my lord; he has money. Yes, do; go and
settle with him, my lord."
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent, at one and the same
moment, stopped Lord Clonbrony as he was quitting the room,
and then approached Lady Clonbrony with supplicating looks.
She turned her head to the other side, and, as if putting away
their entreaties, made a repelling motion with both her hands,
and exclaimed: "No, Grace Nugent; no, Colambre; no, no,
Colambre! I'll never hear of leaving Lon'on. There's no
living out of Lon'on; I can't, I wont live out of Lon'on, I say."
Her son saw that the Londonomania was now stronger than
ever upon her, but he resolved to make one desperate appeal to
her natural feelings, which, though smothered, he could not
believe were wholly extinguished. He caught her repelling
hands, and, pressing them with respectful tenderness to his lips:
Oh, my dear mother, you once loved your son," said he,
"loved him better than anything in this world; if one spark of
affection for him remains, hear him now, and forgive him if he
pass the bounds-bounds he never passed before-of filial duty.
Mother, in compliance with your wishes, my father left Ireland
-left his home, his duties, his friends, his natural connections,
and for many years he has lived in England, and you have
spent many seasons in London."
CC
"Yes, in the very best company-in the very first circles,"
said Lady Clonbrony; "cold as the high-bred English are said
to be in general to strangers."
Yes," replied Lord Colambre, "the very best company (if
you mean the most fashionable) have accepted of our entertain-
ments. We have forced our way into their frozen circles; we
have been permitted to breathe in these elevated regions of
fashion; we can say that the Duke of This and my Lady That
are our acquaintances. We may say more: we may boast that
we have vied with those whom we could never equal. And at
what expense have we done all this? For a single season, the
last winter (I will go no farther), at the expense of a great part
of your timber, the growth of a century, swallowed in the enter-
tainments of one winter in London! Our hills are to be bare
for another half-century to come! But let the trees go; I
think more of your tenants-of those left under the tyranny of
a bad agent, at the expense of every comfort, every hope they
enjoyed-tenants who were thriving and prosperous, who
used to smile upon you and to bless you both! In one cottage
I have seen.
""
Here Lord Clonbrony, unable to restrain his emotion, hurried
out of the room.
"Then I am sure it is not my fault," said Lady Clonbrony;
"for I brought my lord a large fortune, and I am confident I
{
and for at great you
}
THE ABSENTEE.
231
3
have not, after all, spent more any season, in the best company,
than he has among a set of low people, in his muddling, dis-
creditable way."
"And how has he been reduced to this?" said Lord Colambre.
tr
"Did he not formerly live with gentlemen, his equals, in his
own country? His contemporaries, men of the first station and
character, whom I met in Dublin, spoke of him in a manner
that gratified the heart of his son. He was respectable and
respected in his own home; but when he was forced away from
that home, deprived of his objects, his occupations, constrained
to live in London or at watering-places, where he could find no
employments that were suitable to him; set down late in life in
the midst of strangers, to him cold and reserved; himself too
proud to bend to those who disdained him as an Irishman ;-
is he not more to be pitied than blamed for—yes, I, his son,
must say the word—the degradation which has ensued? And
do not the feelings which have this moment forced him to leave
the room show that he is capable. O mother!" cried Lord
Colambre, throwing himself at Lady Clonbrony's feet, "restore
my father to himself! Should such feelings be wasted? No!
Permit them again to expand in benevolent, in kind, useful
actions. Restore him to his tenantry, his duties, his country,
his home. Return to that home, yourself, dear mother; leave
all the nonsense of high life; scorn the impertinence of these
dictators of fashion, who, in return for all the pains we take to
imitate, to court them—in return for the sacrifice of health,
fortune, peace of mind-bestow sarcasm, contempt, ridicule, and
mimicry.
39
"O Čolambre! Colambre! Mimicry? I'll never believe it."
"Believe me, believe me, mother; for I speak of what I know.
Scorn them, quit them; return to an unsophisticated people-
to poor but grateful hearts, still warm with the remembrance of
your kindness, still blessing you for favours long since conferred,
ever praying to see you once more. Believe me, for I speak of
what I know; your son has heard these prayers, has felt these
blessings-here, at my heart, felt and still feel them, when I
was not known to be your son, in the cottage of the widow
O'Neil."
"Oh, did you see the widow O'Neil ? And does she remember
me? said Lady Clonbrony.
""
"Remember you-and you, Miss Nugent! I have slept in
the bed I would tell you more, but I cannot."
循
​"Well! I never should have thought they would have
remembered me so long, poor people!" said Lady Clonbrony.
"I thought all in Ireland must have forgotten me, it is now so
long since I was at home."
You are not forgotten in Ireland by any rank, I can answer
!
靠
​{
232
STORIES OF IRELAND.
for that. Return home, my dearest mother; let me see you once
more among your natural friends, beloved, respected, happy."
C6
سلعة
Oh, return, let us return home!" cried Miss Nugent, with a
voice of great emotion. "Return, let us return home! My
beloved aunt, speak to us; say that you grant our request."
She knelt beside Lord Colambre as she spoke.
Is it possible to resist that voice-that look ?" thought Lord
Colambre.
"If anybody knew," said Lady Clonbrony, "if anybody could
conceive how I detest the sight, the thoughts of that old yellow
damask furniture in the drawing-room at Clonbrony Castle-
""
Good heavens!" cried Lord Colambre, starting up and
looking at his mother in stupefied astonishment: "is that what
you are thinking of, mother?”
"The yellow damask furniture," said her niece, smiling;
"oh, if that's all, that shall never offend your eyes again. Aunt,
my painted velvet chairs are finished; and trust the furnishing
of that room to me. The legacy lately left me cannot be better
applied. You shall see how beautifully it will be furnished."
6C
Oh, if I had the money, I should like to do it myself; but it
would take an immensity to furnish Clonbrony Castle properly."
The furniture in this house" said Miss Nugent, looking
round.
LC
"}
"Would do a great deal towards it, I declare," cried Lady
Clonbrony;
"that never struck me before, Grace, I protest;
and what would not suit, one might sell or exchange here. It
would be great amusement to me, and I should like to set the
fashion of something better in that country. And I declare now,
1 should like to see those poor people, and that widow O'Neil.
I do assure you, I think I was happier at home; only that one
gets-I don't know how-a notion that one's nobody out of
Lon'on. But after all, there's many drawbacks in Lon'on, and
many people are very impertinent, I'll allow; and if there's a
woman in the world I hate, it is Mrs. Dareville; and if I was
leaving Lon'on, I should not regret Lady Langdale neither; and
Lady St. James is as cold as a stone. Colambre may well say
frozen circles; these sort of people are really very cold, and
have, I do believe, no hearts. I don't verily think there is one
of them would regret me more
Eh-let me see: Dublin-
the winter, Merrion Square-new furnished; and the summer,
Clonbrony Castle-
Lord Colambre and Miss Nugent waited in silence till her
mind should have worked itself clear. One great obstacle had
been removed, and now that the yellow damask had been taken
out of her imagination they no longer despaired.
Lord Clonbrony put his head into the room.
"What hopes-any? If not, let me go."
?
2.
THE ABSENTEE.
233
He saw the doubting expression of Lady Clonbrony's counte-
nance, and hope in the face of his son and niece.
"My dear, dear Lady Clonbrony, make us all happy by one
word," said he, kissing her.
"You never kissed me so since we left Ireland," said Lady
Clonbrony. Well, since it must be so, let us go," she said.
CC
Did I ever see such joy!" said Lord Clonbrony, clasping
his hands; "I never expected such joy in my life! I must go
and tell poor Terry!" And off he ran.
"And now, since we are to go," said Lady Clonbrony, “pray
let us go immediately, before the thing gets wind, else I shall
have Mrs. Dareville, and Lady Langdale, and Lady St James,
and all the world coming to condole with me, just to satisfy
their own curiosity. Then Miss Pratt, who hears everything
that everybody says, and more than they say, will come and tell
me how it is reported everywhere that we are ruined. Oh! I
never could bear to stay and hear all this. I'll tell you what I'll
do. You are to be of age soon, Colambre. Very well; there
are some papers for me to sign: I must stay to put my name to
them, and, that done, that minute I'll leave you and Lord Clon-
brony to settle all the rest; and I'll get into my carriage with
Grace, and go down to Buxton again, where you can come for
me and take me up, when you're all ready to go to Ireland; and
we shall be so far on our way. Colambre, what do you say to
this ? "
*C
That if you like it, madam," said he, giving one hasty glance
at Miss Nugent and withdrawing his eyes, "it is the best
possible arrangement."
"So," thought Grace, "that is the best possible arrange-
ment which takes us away."
"If I like it!" said Lady Clonbrony, "to be sure I do, or I
should not propose it. What is Colambre thinking of? I know,
Grace, at all events, what you and I must think of-of having
the furniture packed up, and settling what's to go, and what's to
be exchanged, and all that. Now, my dear, go and write a note
directly to Mr. Soho, and bid him come himself immediately,
and we'll go and make out a catalogue this instant of what furni-
ture I will have packed."
So, with her head full of furniture, Lady Clonbrony retired.
"I go to my business, Colambre, and I leave you to settle yours
in peace."
In peace! Never was our hero's mind less at peace than at
this moment. The more his heart felt that it was painful, the
more his reason told him it was necessary, that he should part
from Grace Nugent. To his union with her there was an
obstacle which his prudence told him ought to be insurmount-
able; yet he felt that, during the few days he had been with
{
}
'
2
234
STORIES OF IRELAND.
her, the few hours he had been near her, he had, with his
utmost power over himself, scarcely been master of his passion
or capable of concealing it; it could not have been done but
for her perfect simplicity and innocence. But how could this
be supported on his part? How could he venture to live with
this charming girl? How could he settle at home ?-what
resource ?
His mind turned towards the army. He thought that abroad,
and in active life, he should lose all the painful resentments, and
drive from his heart all the recollections, which could now be
only a source of unavailing regret. But his mother-his mother
who had now yielded her own taste to his entreaties, for the
good of her family, she expected him to return and live with her
in Ireland. Though he had not actually promised or specified
this, he knew that she took it for granted—that it was upon this
hope, this faith, she consented; he knew that she would be
shocked at the bare idea of his going into the army.
There was
one chance-our hero tried at this moment to think it the best
possible chance, that Miss Nugent might marry Mr. Salisbury,
and settle in England. On this idea he relied as the only means
of extricating him from difficulties.
It was necessary to turn his thoughts immediately to business,
to execute his promises to his father. Two great objects were
now to be accomplished-the payment of his father's debts, and
the settlement of the Irish agent's accounts; and in transacting
this complicated business he derived considerable assistance
from Sir Terence O'Fay and from Sir Arthur Berryl's solicitor,
Mr. Edwards. Whilst acting for Sir Arthur on a former occa-
sion, Lord Colambre had gained the entire confidence of this
solicitor, who was a man of the first eminence. Mr. Edwards
took the papers and Lord Cloubrony's title-deeds home with him,
saying that he would give an answer the next morning. He
then waited upon Lord Colambre, and informed him that he had
just received a letter from Sir Arthur Berryl, who, with the
consent and desire of his lady, requested that whatever money
might be required by Lord Clonbrony should be immediately
supplied on their account, without waiting till Lord Colambre
should be of age, as the ready money might be of some con-
venience to him in accelerating the journey to Ireland which
Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl knew was his lordship's object.
Sir Terence O'Fay now supplied Mr. Edwards with accurate
information as to the demands that were made upon Lord
Clonbrony, and of the respective characters of the creditors.
Mr. Edwards undertook to settle with the fair claimants, Sir
Terence with the rogues; so that, by the advancement of ready
money from the Berryls, and by the detection of false and
exaggerated charges which Sir Terence made among the inferior
(
pand
་
→
}
î
THE ABSENTEE.
235
class, the debts were reduced nearly to one-half of their former
amount. Mordicai, who had been foiled in his vile attempt to
become sole creditor, had, however, a demand of more than
seven thousand pounds upon Lord Clonbrony, which he had
raised to this enormous sum in six or seven years by means well
known to himself. He stood the foremost in the list—not from
the greatness of the sum, but from the danger of his adding to
it the expenses of law. Sir Terence undertook to pay the whole
with five thousand pounds. Lord Clonbrony thought it impos-
sible; the solicitor thought it improvident, because he knew
that upon a trial a much greater abatement would be allowed,
but Lord Colambre was determined, from the present embar-
rassments of his own situation, to leave nothing undone that
could be accomplished immediately.
Sir Terence, pleased with his commission, immediately went
to Mordicai.
"Well, Sir Terence," said Mordicai, "I hope you are come
to pay me my hundred guineas, for Miss Broadhurst is
married!"
(C
Well, Mister Mordicai, what then? The Ides of March are
come, but not gone! Stay, if you plase, Mister Mordicai, till
Lady-day, when it becomes due. In the meantime, I have a
handful, or rather an armful, of bank-notes for you from Lord
Colambre."
CC
Humph!" said Mordicai; "how's that? He'll not be of age
these three days."
"Don't matter for that; he has sent me to look over your
account, and to hope that you will make some small abatement
in the total."
(C
Harkee, Sir Terence! You think yourself very clever in
things of this sort; but you've mistaken your man. I have an
execution for the whole, and I'll be d-d if all your cunning
shall make me take up with part!
""
"Be asy, Mister Mordicai !--you sha'n't make me break your
bones, nor make me drop one actionable word against your high
character; for I know your clerk there, with that long goose-
quill behind his ear, would be ready evidence again' me. But I
beg to know, in one word, whether you will take five thousand
down, and give Lord Clonbrony a discharge?
59
"C
No, Mr. Terence, nor six thousand nine hundred and ninety-
nine pounds! My demand is seven thousand one hundred and
thirty pounds odd shillings. If you have that money, pay it;
if not, I know how to get it, and along with it complete
revenge for all the insults I have received from that greenhorn
his son."
CC
Padly Brady!" cried Sir Terence, "do you hear that?
Remember that word revenge! Mind, I call you to witness!"
+
{
.)
#
236
66
}
5
money.
<<
{
STORIES OF IRELAND.
What, sir, will you raise a rebellion among my work-
men ? "
نی
"No, Mr. Mordicai, no rebellion! And I hope you won't cut
the boy's ears off for listening to a little of the brogue: so listen,
my good lad. Now, Mr. Mordicai, I offer you here, before little
goose-quill, five thousand pounds ready penny. Take it or leave
it; take your money, and leave your revenge, or take your
revenge and lose your money.
>>
"Sir Terence, I value neither your threats nor your cunning.
Good morning to you!"
Good morning to you, Mr. Mordicai-but not kindly. Mr.
Edwards, the solicitor, has been at the office to take off the
execution; so now you may have law to your heart's content!
And it was only to plase the young lord that the ould one
consented to my carrying this bundle to you" (showing the
bank-notes).
Mr. Edwards employed!" cried Mordicai.
devil did Lord Clonbrony get into such hands?
taken off! Well, sir, go to law; I am ready
Latitat is a match for your sober solicitor."
((
Good morning again to you, Mr. Mordicai! We're fairly
out of your clutches, and we have enough to do with our
¿
1
CC
Why, how the
The execution
for you. Jack
'Well, Sir Terence, I must allow you have a very wheedling
way! Here, Mr. Thompson, make out a receipt for Lord
Clonbrony; I never go to law with an old customer if I can
help it."
This business settled, Mr. Soho was next to be dealt with.
He came at Lady Clonbrony's summons, and was taking
directions with the utmost sangfroid for packing up and
sending off the very furniture for which he was not paid.
Lord Colambre called him into his father's study, and pro-
ducing his bill, he began to point out various articles which were
charged at prices that were obviously extravagant.
(6
Why, really, my lord, they are abundantly extravagant; if
I charged vulgar prices, I should be only a vulgar tradesman.
I, however, am not a broker nor a Jew.
Of the article super-
intendence, which is only £500, I cannot abate a doit; on the
rest of the bill, if you mean to offer ready, I mean, without any
negotiation, to abate thirty per cent.; and I hope that is a fair
and gentlemanly offer."
Mr. Soho, there is your money!"
CL
My Lord Colambre, I would give the contents of three such
bills to be sure of such noblemanly conduct as yours. Lady
Clonbrony's furniture shall be safely packed without costing her
a farthing."
With the help of Mr. Edwards the solicitor every other claim
THE ABSENTEE.
237
was soon settled; and Lord Clonbrony, for the first time
since he left Ireland, found himself out of debt and out of
danger.
Old Nick's account could not be settled in London: Lord
Colambre had detected numerous false charges and sundry
impositions. The land, which had been purposely allowed to
run wild, so far from yielding any rent, was made a source
of constant expense, as remaining still unset: this was a
large tract for which St. Dennis had at length offered a small
rent.
→
Upon a fair calculation of the profits of the ground, and from
other items in the account, Nicholas Garraghty, Esq., appeared
at last to be not the creditor of but the debtor to Lord Clon-
brony. He was dismissed with disgrace, which perhaps he
might not have felt if it had not been accompanied by pecu-
niary loss, and followed by the fear of losing his other agencies,
and by the dread of immediate bankruptcy.
Mr. Burke was appointed agent in his stead to the Clonbrony
as well as to the Colambre estate. His appointment was
announced to him by the following letter:-
"To MRS. BURKE, AT COLAMBRE.
"DEAR MADAM,-The traveller whom you so hospitably
received some months ago was Lord Colambre; he now writes
to you in his proper person. He promised you that he would,
as far as it might be in his power, do justice to Mr. Burke's
conduct and character, by representing what he had done
for Lord Clonbrony in the town of Colambre, and in the
whole management of the tenantry and property under his
care.
(C
Happily for my father, my dear madam, he is now as fully
convinced as you could wish him to be of Mr. Burke's merits,
and he begs me to express his sense of the obligations he is
under to him and to you. He entreats that you will pardon
the impropriety of a letter, which, as I assured you the
moment I saw it, he neither wrote nor read. This will, he says,
cure him for life of putting his signature to any paper without
reading it.
"He hopes that you will forget that such a letter was ever
received, and that you will use your influence with Mr. Burke
to induce him to continue to our family his regard and valuable
services. Lord Clonbrony encloses a power of attorney,
enabling Mr. Burke to act in future for him, if Mr. Burke will
do him that favour, in managing the Clonbrony as well as the
Colambre estate.
"Lord Clonbrony will be in Ireland in the course of next
·
}
1
238
STORIES OF IRELAND.
month, and intends to have the pleasure of soon paying his
respects in person to Mr. Burke at Colambre.
"I am, dear madanı,
“Your obliged guest and faithful servant,
"COLAMBRE.
Grosvenor-square, London."
Lord Colambre was so continually occupied with business
during the days previous to his coming of age-every morning
at his solicitor's chambers, every evening in his father's study-
that Miss Nugent never saw him but at breakfast or dinner,
and though she watched for it most anxiously, never could find
an opportunity of speaking to him alone, or of asking an
explanation of the change and inconsistencies of his manner.
At last she began to think that, in the midst of so much busi-
ness of importance, by which he seemed harassed, she should do
wrong to torment him by speaking of any small matter that
concerned only herself. She determined to suppress her doubts,
to keep her feelings to herself, and to endeavour by constant
kindness to regain that place in his affections which she
imagined that she had lost. Everything will go right again,'
thought she," and we shall all be happy when he returns with
us to Ireland-to that dear home which he loves as well as I
do!"
(C
>>
The day Lord Colambre was of age the first thing he did was
to sign a bond for five thousand pounds, Miss Nugent's fortune,
which had been lent to his father, who was her guardian.
**
This, sir, I believe," said he, giving it to his father as soon
as it was signed-"this, I believe, is the first debt you would
wish to have secured."
Well thought of, my dear boy! God bless you! That has
weighed more upon my conscience and heart than all the rest,
though I never said anything about it. I used, whenever Í
met Mr. Salisbury, to wish myself fairly down at the centre of
the earth; not that he ever thought of fortune, I'm sure; for
he often told me, and I believed him, he would rather have
Miss Nugent without a penny, if he could get her, than the
first fortune in the empire. But I'm glad she will not go to
him penniless for all that, and by my fault especially. There-
there's my name to it; do witness it, Terry. But, Colambre,
you must give it to her; you must take it to Grace."
"Excuse me, sir; it is no gift of mine; it is a debt of yours.
I beg you will take the bond to her yourself, my dear father.'
<<
'My dear son, you must not always have your own way, and
hide everything good you do, or give me the honour of it. I
won't be the jay in borrowed feathers. I have borrowed enough
in my life, and I've done with borrowing now, thanks to you,
2.
A
;
THE ABSENTEE.
239
Colambre; so come along with me, for I'll be hanged if ever I
give this joint bond to Miss Nugent save in your presence.
Leave Lady Clonbrony here to sign these papers. Terry will
witness them properly, and you can come along with me."
"And pray, my lord," said her ladyship, "order the carriage
to the door; for as soon as you have my signature I hope you'll
let me off to Buxton."
"Oh, certainly; the carriage is ordered and everything ready,
my dear."
"And pray tell Grace to be ready," added Lady Clonbrony.
"That's not necessary; for she is always ready," said Lord
Clonbrony. "Come, Colambre," added he, taking his son under
the arm, and hurrying him up to Miss Nugent's dressing-room.
They knocked, and were admitted.
(C
CC
Ready!" said Lord Clonbrony; "Ay, always ready; so I
said. Here's Colambre, my darling," continued he, has
secured your fortune to you to my heart's content; but he
would not condescend to come up to tell you so, till I made him.
Now my heart's at ease; I can meet Mr. Salisbury with a safe
conscience. One kiss, my little Grace. If anybody can per-
suade you, I'm sure it is that man that's now leaning against
the mantelpiece. Colambre will, or your heart's not made like
mine; so I leave you."
And out of the room he walked, leaving his poor son in as
awkward, embarrassing, and painful a situation as could well
be conceived. Half-a-dozen indistinct ideas crossed his mind,
quick, conflicting feelings made his heart flutter; and how it
would have ended, if he had been left to himself-whether he
would have stood or fallen, have spoken or have continued
silent-can never now be known, for all was decided without the
action of his will. He was awakened from his trance by these
simple words from Miss Nugent:
to
"I'm much obliged to you, cousin Colambre; more obliged
you for your kindness in thinking of me first, in the midst of
all your other business, than by your securing my fortune.
Friendship and your friendship-is worth more to me than
fortune. May I believe that is secured ? "
"Believe it! Oh, Grace, can you doubt it ?”
"I will not; it would make me too unhappy. I will not."
"You need not."
"That is enough; I am satisfied; I ask no further explana-
tion. You are truth itself: one word from you is security
sufficient. We are friends for life," said she, taking his hand,
are we not?
CC
>>
"We are; and therefore sit down, cousin Grace, and let me
claim the privilege of friendship, and speak to you of him who
aspires to be more than your friend for life, Mr.
>>
+
U
Ze
240
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"Mr. Salisbury!" said Miss Nugent. "I saw him yesterday.
We had a very long conversation; I believe he understands my
sentiments perfectly, and that he no longer thinks of being
more to me than a friend for life."
"You have refused him ?"
Yes; I have a high opinion of Mr. Salisbury's understand-
ing-a great esteem for his character; I like his manners and
conversation; but I do not love him, and therefore, you know,
I could not marry him."
(C
But, my dear Miss Nugent, with a high opinion, a great
esteem, and liking his manners and conversation, in such a well-
regulated mind as yours-can there be a better foundation for
love ?"
"It is an excellent foundation," said she; "but I never went
any further than the foundation, and indeed I never wished to
proceed any further."
Lord Colambre scarcely dared to ask why, but after a pause
he said, "I don't wish to intrude upon your confidence."
ઃઃ
"You cannot intrude upon my confidence; I am ready to
give it to you entirely, frankly; I hesitated only because
another person was concerned. Do you remember, at my aunt's
gala, a lady who danced with Mr. Salisbury ?"
""
CC
Not in the least.'
"A lady with whom you and Mr. Salisbury were talking, just
before supper, in the Turkish tent."
"Not in the least."
"As we went down to supper you told me that you had had
a delightful conversation with her: that you thought her a
charming woman.'
"}
"A charming woman! I have not the slightest recollection
of her."
"C
"And you told me that she and Mr. Salisbury had been prais-
ing me à l'envie l'une de l'autre.”
66
Oh, I recollect her now perfectly," said Lord Colambre;
but what of her ? "
She is the woinan who, I hope, will be Mrs. Salisbury. Ever
since I have been acquainted with them both I have seen that
they were suited to each other. I fancy, indeed I am almost
sure, that she could love him-tenderly love him; and I know
I could not. But my own sentiments, you may be sure, are all
I ever told Mr. Salisbury."
But of your own sentiments you may not be sure," said
Lord Colambre; and I see no reason why you should give him
up from false generosity."
<<
Generosity!" interrupted Miss Nugent. "You totally mis-
understand me: there is no generosity, nothing for me to give
up in the case. I did not refuse Mr. Salisbury from generosity
1
Y
THE ABSENTEE.
241
but because I did not love him. Perhaps my seeing early what
I have just mentioned to you prevented me from thinking of
him as a lover; but from whatever cause, I certainly never felt
love for Mr. Salisbury, nor any of that pity which is said to lead
to love. Perhaps," she added, smiling, “because I was aware
that he would be so much better off after I refused him; so
much happier with one suited to him in age, talents, fortune,
and love. What bliss, did he but know his bliss,' were his!
"Did he but know his bliss," repeated Lord Colambre; “but
is he not the best judge of his own bliss ? "
C
"And am not I the best judge of mine?" said Miss Nugent.
"I go no further.”
You are; and I have no right to go further. Yet this
much permit me to say, my dear Grace, that it would give me
sincere pleasure, that is, real satisfaction to see, you happily-
established.”
"Thank you, my dear Lord Colambre; but you spoke that
like a mau of seventy at least, with the most solemn gravity of
demeanour.'
I meant to be serious, not solemn," said Lord Colambre,
endeavouring to change his tone.
There now," said she, in a playful tone, "you have seriously
accomplished the task my good uncle set you: so I will report
well of you to him, and certify that you did all that in you lay
to exhort me to marry; that you have even assured me that it
would give you sincere pleasure, that is, real satisfaction, to see
me happily established."
"C
""
Oh, Grace, if you knew how much I felt when I said that,
you would spare this raillery."
"I will be serious; I am most seriously convinced of the sin-
cerity of your affection for me. I know that my happiness is
your object in all you have said, and I thank you from my heart
for the interest you take in me. But really and truly I do not
wish to marry. This is not a mere commonplace speech; but I
have not yet seen any man I could love. I like you, Cousin
Colambre, better than Mr. Salisbury. I would rather live with
you than with him; you know that is a certain proof that I am
not likely to be in love with him. I am happy as I am, especially
now we are all going home to dear Ireland to live together.
You cannot conceive with what pleasure I look forward to that."
Lord Colambre was not vain; but love quickly sees love, or
foresees the probability-the possibility-of its existence. He
saw that Miss Nugent might love him tenderly, passionately;
but that duty, habit, the prepossession that it was impossible
she could marry her cousin Colambre-a prepossession instilled
into her by his mother-had absolutely prevented her from ever
yet thinking of him as a lover. He saw the hazard for her, he
{
*
+
}
t
My
242
STÒRİES ÖF IRELAND.
felt the danger for himself. Never had she appeared to him so
attractive as at this moment, when he felt the hope that he could
obtain a return of love.
"But St. Omar! Why! why is she a St. Omar! Illegiti-
mate! 'No St. Omar sans reproche.' My wife she cannot be;
I will not engage her affections."
Swift as thoughts in moments of strong feeling pass in the
mind, without being put into words, our hero thought all this,
and determined, cost what it would, to act honourably.
"You spoke of my returning to Ireland, my dear Grace; I
have not yet told you my plans."
"Plans! Are you not going to return with us?" she said,
precipitately; "are you not going to Ireland-home with us?
"}
"No: I am going to serve a campaign or two abroad. I think
every young man in these times
"Good heavens! What does this mean? What can you
mean ?" cried she, fixing her eyes upon his as if she would read
his very soul. Why-what reason? Oh, tell me the truth--
and at once.
66
""
His change of colour, his hand that trembled and was with-
drawn from hers, the expression of his eyes as they met hers,
revealed the truth to her at once. As it flashed across her mind
she started back; her face grew crimson, and in the same
instant pale as death.
"Yes; you see, you feel the truth now," said Lord Colambre.
"You see, you feel that I love you passionately."
66
Oh, let me not hear it," she said; "I must not-ought not.
Never till this moment did such a thought cross my mind. I
deemed it impossible. Oh! make me think so still,"
v
"I will; it is impossible that we can ever be united."
"I always thought so," she said, taking breath with a deep
sigh. "Then why not live as we have lived ? "
66
:
I cannot I cannot answer for myself. I will not run the
risk; and therefore I must quit you, knowing as I do that
there is an invincible obstacle to our union-of what nature I
cannot explain; I beg you not to inquire.'
"You need not beg it; I shall not inquire; I have no curiosity
-none," she said, in a passive, dejected tone; "that is not what
I am thinking of in the least. I know there are invincible
obstacles; I wish it to be so. But if invincible, you, who have
so much sense, honour, and virtue
رو
""
"I hope, my dear cousin, that I have honour and virtue. But
there are temptations to which no wise, no good man, will expose
himself. Innocent creature! you do not know the power of love.
I rejoice that you have always thought it impossible; think so
still, it will save you from-all that I must endure. Think of
me but as your cousin-your friend. Give your heart to some
THE ABSENTEE.
243
·
happier man. As your friend, your true friend, I conjure you,
give your heart to some more fortunate man. Marry-if you
can feel love-marry, and be happy. Honour! virtue! Yes,
I have both, and I will not forfeit them. Yes, I will merit your
esteem and my own-by actions, not words; and I give you the
strongest proof by tearing myself from you at this moment.
Farewell!"
"The carriage is at the door, Miss Nugent, and my lady is
calling for you," said her maid. "Here's your key, ma'am, and
here's your gloves.
""
"The carriage at the door, Miss Nugent," said Lady Clon-
brony's woman, coming eagerly with parcels in her hand, as
Miss Nugent passed her and ran downstairs; "and I don't
know where I laid my lady's numbrella. Do you, Anne ?”
kr
No, indeed; but I know here's my own young lady's watch,
that she has left. Bless me! I never knew her to forget any-
thing on a journey before."
"Then she is going to be married, as sure as my name's Le
Maistre, and to my Lord Colambre; for he has been here this
hour, to my certain Bible knowledge. . Oh, you'll see she will be
Lady Colambre.”
--
66
I wish she may with all my heart," said Anne; "but I must
run down-they're waiting."
"Oh, no!" said Mrs. Le Maistre, seizing Anne's arm and
holding her fast: "stay you may safely, for they're all kissing
and taking leave, and all that, you know; and my lady is talking
about Mr. Soho, and giving a hundred directions about legs of
tables, and so forth, I warrant-she's always an hour after she's
ready before she gets in-aud I'm looking for the numbrella.
So stay, and tell me Mrs. Petito wrote over word it was to
be Lady Isabel, and then a contradiction came; it was turned
into the youngest of the Killpatricks; and now here he's in
Miss Nugent's dressing-room to the last moment. Now, in my
opinion, that am not censorious, this does not look so pretty;
but, according to my verdict, he is only making a fool of Miss
Nugent, like the rest; and his lordship seems too like what you
might call a male cocket or a masculine jilt."
"No more like a masculine jilt than yourself, Mrs. Le
Maistre," cried Anne, taking fire. "And my young lady is not
a lady to be made a fool of, I promise you; nor is my lord likely
Ι
to make a fool of any woman.
“Bless us all! that's no great praise for any young nobleman,
Miss Anne."
"Mrs. Le Maistre! Mrs. Le Maistre! are you above? cried
a footman from the bottom of the stairs. My lady's calling
for you."
<<
Very well! very well!" said sharp Mrs. Le Maistre; "very
1
•
""
*
1.
1
4
244
STORIES OF IRELAND.
well! And if she is, come up for one, can't you, and don't stand
bawling at the bottom of the stairs, as if one had no ears to be
saved. I'm coming as fast as I can-conveniently can."
and
Mrs. Le Maistre stood in the doorway, so as to fill it up
prevent Anne from passing.
(6
"Miss Anne! Miss Anne! Mrs. Le Maistre!" cried another
footman. My lady's in the carriage, and Miss Nugent."
"Miss Nugent !-is she?" cried Mrs. Le Maistre, running
downstairs, followed by Anne. "Now, for the world in pocket-
pieces, wouldn't I have missed seeing him hand Miss Nugent
; for by that I could have judged definitely."
in
(C
My Lord, I beg pardon! I'm afeard I'm late," said Mrs.
Le Maistre, as she passed Lord Colambre, who was standing
motionless in the hall. "I beg a thousand pardons; but I was
hunting high and low for my lady's numbrella."
Lord Colambre did not hear or heed her: his eyes were fixed,
and they moved not.
CC
Lord Clonbrony was at the open carriage-door, kneeling on
the step, and receiving Lady Clonbrony's more last words "
for Mr. Soho. The two waiting-maids stood together on the steps.
"Look at our young lord, how he stands!" whispered Mrs.
Le Maistre to Anne-"the image of despair, and she the picture
of death! I don't know what to think!"
'Nor I. But don't stare, if you can help it," said Anne.
"Get in, get in, Mrs. Le Maistre," added she, as Lord Clonbrony
retired from the step and made way for them.
*C
Ay, in with you-in with you, Mrs. Le Maistre," said Lord
Clonbrony. "Good-bye to you, Anne, and take care of your
young mistress at Buxton. Let me see her blooming when we
meet again. I don't half like her looks; and I never thought
Buxton agreed with her."
"Buxton never did anybody harm," said Lady Clonbreny;
"and as to bloom, I'm sure if Grace has not bloom enough in
her cheeks this moment to please you, I don't know what you'd
have, my dear lord. Shut the door, John! Oh, stay! Colambre!
Where upon earth is Colambre ?" cried her ladyship, stretching
from the farthest side of the coach to the window. "Colambre!
Colambre was forced to appear.
CC
Colambre, my dear, I forgot to say that if anything detains
you longer than Wednesday se'nnight, I beg you will not fail to
write, or I shall be miserable."
"I will write; at all events, my dearest mother, you shall
hear from me.
""
"Then I shall be quite happy. Go on!"
The carriage drove on.
"I do believe Colambre's ill. I never saw a man look so ill
in my life-did you, Grace-as he did the minute we drove
*
V
THE ABSENTEE.
245
on? He should take advice. I've a mind," cried Lady Clon-
brony, laying her hand on the cord to stop the coachman-" I've
a mind to turn about, tell him so, and ask what is the matter
with him."
"Better not!" said Miss Nugent: "he will write to you and
tell you, if anything is the matter with him. Better go on now
to Buxton," continued she, scarcely able to speak. Lady Clon-
brony let go the cord.
"But what is the matter with you, my dear Grace ? for you
are certainly going to die too!"
"I will tell you as soon as I can ; but don't ask me now, my
dear aunt!"
$6
Grace, Grace! Pull the cord!" cried Lady Clonbrony.
"Mr. Salisbury's phaeton! Mr. Salisbury, I'm happy to see
you! We're on our way to Buxton, as I told you."
Of
"So am I," said Mr. Salisbury. "I hope to be there before
your ladyship. Will you honour me with any commands?
course I will see that everything is ready for your reception."
Her ladyship had not any commands, and Mr. Salisbury drove
on rapidly.
Lady Clonbrony's ideas had now taken the Salisbury channel.
“You didn't know that Mr. Salisbury was going to Buxton to
meet you, did you, Grace ?
Grace ?" said Lady Clonbrony.
(C
No; indeed I did not," said Miss Nugent; "and I am very
sorry for it."
tr
Young ladies, as Mrs. Broadhurst says, 'never know, or at
least never tell, what they are sorry or glad for,'" replied Lady
Clonbrony. At all events, Grace, my love, it has brought the
fine bloom back to your cheeks; and I own I am satisfied."
CHAPTER XV.
"GONE!-for ever gone from me," said Lord Colambre to
himself as the carriage drove away.
"Never shall I see her
more; never will I see her more till she is married."
Lord Colambre went to his own room, locked the door, and
was relieved in some degree by the sense of privacy-by the
feeling that he could now indulge his reflections undisturbed.
He had consolation: he had done what was honourable; he had
transgressed no duty, abandoned no principle; he had not
injured the happiness of any human being; he had not, to
gratify himself, hazarded the peace of the woman he loved; he
had not sought to win her heart. Of her innocent, her warm,
{
246
STORIES OF IRELAND.
susceptible heart, he might perhaps have robbed her he knew
it; but he had left it untouched, he hoped entire, in her own
power, to bless with it hereafter some man worthy of her. In
the hope that she might be happy, Lord Colambre felt relief;
and in the consciousness that he had made his parents happy he
rejoiced; but as soon as his mind turned that way for consola-
tion, came the bitter reflection that his mother must be disap-
pointed in her hopes of his accompanying her home, and of his
living with her in Ireland. She would be miserable when she
heard that he was going abroad into the army; and yet it must
be so, and he must write and tell her this.
CC
The sooner this difficulty is off my mind-the sooner this
painful letter is written the better," thought he. "It must be
done. I will do it immediately."
He snatched up his peu, and began a letter.
"MY DEAR MOTHER,-Miss Nugent-
rupted by a knock at his door.
CC
"" He was inter-
A gentleman below, my lord," said a servant, "wishes to see
"
you.
"C
"I cannot see any gentleman. Did you say I was at home? "
'No, my lord; I said you were not at home, for I thought
you would not choose to be at home, and your own man was
not in the way for me to ask; so I denied you. The gentleman
would not be denied; he said I must come and see if you were
at home. So, as he spoke as if he were a gentleman not used to
be denied, I thought it might be somebody of consequence, and
I showed him into the frout drawing-room. I think he said he
was sure you'd be at home for a friend from Ireland."
"A friend from Ireland! Why did not you tell me that
sooner ?" said Lord Colambre, rising and running downstairs.
"Sir James Brooke, I dare say."
No; not Sir James Brooke; but one he was almost as glad to
see-Count O'Halloran !
"My dear count, the greater pleasure for being unexpected."
"I came to London but yesterday," said the count; "but I
could not be here a day without doing myself the honour of
paying my respects to Lord Colambre."
"You do me not only honour, but pleasure, my dear count.
People when they like one another always find each other out,
and contrive to meet, even in London."
"You are too polite to ask what brought such a superannuated
militaire as I am," said the count, "from his retirement into this
gay world again. A relation of mine, who is one of our Ministry,
knew that I had some maps and plans and charts which might
be serviceable in an expedition they are planning. I might have
trusted my charts across the channel without coming myself to
convoy them, you will say. But my relation fancied-young
די
THE ABSENTEE.
247
""
relations, you know, if they are good for anything, are apt to
overvalue the heads of old relations-fancied that mine was worth
bringing all the way from Halloran Castle to London, to consult
with, tête-à-tête. So you know, when this was signified to me by
a letter from the Secretary in office, " private, most confidential,'
what could I do but do myself the honour to obey? For though
honour's voice cannot provoke the silent dust, yet flattery
soothes the dull cold ear of age.' But enough, and too much
of myself," said the count, "tell me, my dear lord, something of
yourself. I do not think England seems to agree with you so
well as Ireland, for, excuse me, in point of health you don't look
- like the same man I saw some weeks ago."
6
CC
ઃઃ
My mind has been ill at ease of late," said Lord Colambre.
Ay, there's the thing! The body pays for the mind; but
those who have feeling minds, pain and pleasure altogether
computed, have the advantage, or at least they think so; for
they would not change with those who have them not, were they
to gain by the bargain the most robust body that the most selfish
coxcomb or the heaviest dunce in existence ever possessed. For
instance, would you now, my lord, at this moment, change alto-
gether with Major Benson or Captain Williamson, or even with
our friend, Eh, really now, 'pon honour'-would you? I'm
glad to see you smile."
>>
"I thank you for making me smile, for I assure you I want it.
I wish--if you would not think me encroaching upon your polite-
ness and kindness in honouring me with this visit-
You see,'
continued he, opening the doors of the back drawing-room, and
pointing to large packages-" you see we are all preparing for a
march. My mother left town half-an-hour ago; my father is
engaged to dine abroad; only I at home; and, in this state of
confusion could I even venture to ask Count O'Halloran to stay
and dine with me, without being able to offer him Irish ortolans
or Irish plums: in short, will you let me rob you of two or three
hours of your time? I am anxious to have your opinion on a
subject of some importance to me, and on one where you arc
peculiarly qualified to judge and decide for me."
66
My dear lord, frankly, I have nothing half so good or so
agreeable to do with my time: command my hours. I have
already told you how much it flatters me to be consulted by the
most helpless clerk in office; how much more about the private
concerns of an enlightened young-friend, will Lord Colambre
permit me to say-I hope so; for though the length of our
acquaintance might not justify the word, yet regard and inti-
macy are not always in proportion to the time people have
known each other, but to their mutual perception of certain
attaching qualities, a certain similarity and suitableness of
character."
C
T
事
​1
?
248
STORIES OF IRELAND.
The good count, seeing that Lord Colambre was in much dis-
tress of mind, did all he could to soothe him by kindness. Far
from making any difficulty about giving up a few hours of his
time, he seemed to have no other object in London and no pur-
pose in life but to attend to our hero. To put him at ease, and
to give him time to recover and arrange his thoughts, the count
talked of indifferent subjects.
"I think I heard you mention the name of Sir James
Brooke."
"Yes; I expected to have seen him when the servant first
mentioned a friend from Ireland, because Sir James told me
that as soon as he could get leave of absence he should come
to England."
"He is come; is now at his estate in Huntingdonshire, doing-
what do you think? I will give you a leading hint: recollect
the seal which the little De Cressy put into your hands the day
you dined at Oranmore. Faithful to his motto, 'Deeds, not
words,' he is this instant, I believe, at deeds-title-deeds
making out marriage-settlements, getting ready to put his seal
to the happy articles."
"C
Happy man! I give him joy," said Lord Colambre. Happy
man! going to be married to such a woman, the daughter of
such a mother."
16
Daughter of such a mother! That is indeed a great addition
and a great security to his happiness," said the count.
"Such
a family to marry into; good from generation to generation;
illustrious by character as well as by genealogy; 'all the sons
brave, and all the daughters chaste.
Lord Colambre with difficulty repressed his feelings. "If
I could choose, I would rather that a woman I loved were of
such a family than that she had for her dower the mines of
Peru."
So would I," cried Lord Colambre.
"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, and with such energy;
so few young_nien of the present day look to what I call good
connection. In marrying, à man does not, to be sure, marry his
wife's mother; and yet a prudent man, when he begins to think
of the daughter, would look sharp at the mother-ay, and back
to the grandmother too, and along the whole female line of
ancestry."
True, most true; he ought-he must."
"And I have a notion," said the count, smiling, “your lord-
ship's practice has been conformable to your theory.
(6
I! mine!" said Lord Colambre, starting, and looking at
the count with surprise.
"I beg your pardon," said the count, "I did not intend to sur-
prise your confidence. But you forget that I was present, and
C
رو
?
THE ABSENTEE.
249
saw the impression which was made on your mind by a mother's
want of a proper sense of delicacy and propriety-Lady Dash-
fort."
(C
Oh, Lady Dashfort! She was quite out of my head."
"And Lady Isabel? I hope she is quite out of your heart."
"She never was in it," said Lord Colambre.
t
"C
Only laid siege to it," said the count. Well, I am glad
your heart did not surrender at discretion, or rather without
discretion. Then I may tell you, without fear or preface, that
the Lady Isabel, who talks of 'refinement, delicacy, sense,' is
going to stoop at once, and marry-Heathcock."
Lord Colambre was not surprised, but concerned and dis-
gusted, as he always felt even when he did not care for the
individual, from hearing anything which tended to lower the
female sex in public estimation.
"As to myself,” he said, “I cannot say I have had an escape,
for I don't think I ever was in much danger."
CC
"It is difficult to measure danger when it is over; past
danger, like past pain, is soon forgotten," said the old general.
"At all events, I rejoice in your present safety."
But is she really going to be married to Heathcock ?" said
Lord Colambre.
"Positively. They all came over in the same packet with
me, and they are all in town now, buying jewels and equipages
and horses. Heathcock, you know, is as good as another man
for all those purposes; his father is dead, and left him a large
estate. Que voulez-vous? as the French valet said to me on the
occasion; c'est que monsieur est un homme de bien: il a des
biens à ce qu'on dit.
""
Lord Colambre could not help smiling.
How they got Heathcock to fall in love is what puzzles me,"
said his lordship. "I should as soon have thought of an oyster's
falling in love as that being!
>
"I own I should have sooner thought," replied the count,
"of his falling in love with an oyster; and so would you,
if you had seen him, as I did, devouring oysters on ship-
board-
"Say, can the lovely heroine hope to vie
With a fat turtle, or a ven'son pie ?
But that is not our affair; let Lady Isabel look to it."
Dinner was announced, and no further conversation of any
consequence passed between the count and Lord Colambre
till the cloth was removed, and the servants had withdrawn.
Then our hero opened on the subject which was heavy at his
heart.
"My dear count, to go back to the burial-place of the
•
嗑
​SOLE
250
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Nugents, where my head was lost the first time I had the
pleasure of seeing you: you know, or possibly," said he,
smiling, "you do not know, that I have a cousin of the name of
Nugent?
"You told me,” replied the count, "that you had near rela-
tions of that name; but I do not recollect that you mentioned
any one in particular."
"I never named Miss Nugent to you. No! it is not easy to
me to talk of her, and impossible to me to describe her.
If you
had come one half-hour sooner this morning you would have
seen her: I know she is exactly suited to your excellent taste.
But it is not at first sight she pleases most: she gains upon the
affections, attaches the heart, and unfolds upon the judgment.
In temper, manners, and good sense-in every quality a man can
or should desire in a wife, I never saw her equal. Yet there is
an obstacle, an invincible obstacle, the nature of which I cannot
explain to you, that forbids me to think of her as a wife. She
lives with my father and mother: they are returning to Ireland.
I wished, earnestly wished, on many accounts, to have accom-
panied them-chiefly for my mother's sake; but it cannot be.
The first thing a man must do is to act honourably; and that
he may do so, he must keep out of the way of a temptation
which he believes to be above his strength. I will never see
Miss Nugent again till she is married. I must either stay in
England or go abroad. I have a mind to serve a campaign or
two, if I could get a commission in a regiment going to Spain;
but I understand, so many are eager to go at this moment
that it is very difficult to get a commission in such a regiment."
It is difficult," said the count. But," added he, after
thinking for a moment, "I have it! I can get the thing done
for you, and directly. Major Benson, in consequence of that
affair, you know, about his mistress, is forced to quit the regi-
ment. When the lientenant-colonel came to quarters, and the
rest of the officers heard the fact, they would not keep
company with Benson, and would not mess with him. I know
he wants to sell out, and that regiment is to be ordered imme-
diately to Spain. I will have the thing done for you if you
request it."
CC
(C
First give me your advice, Count O'Halloran; you are
well acquainted with the military profession, with military
life. Would you advise me-I won't speak of myself, because
we judge better by general views than by particular cases-
would you advise a young man at present to go into the
army ?
}
P
The count was silent for a few minutes, and then replied:
"Since you seriously ask my opinion, my lord, I must lay aside
my own prepossessions, and endeavour to speak with impar-
+
}
ì
}
THE ABSENTEE.
251
tiality. To go into the army in these days, my lord, is, in my
sober opinion, the most absurd and base, or the wisest and
noblest, thing a young man can do. To enter into the army
with the hope of escaping from the application necessary to
acquire knowledge, letters, and science—I run no risk, my lord,
in saying this to you to go into the army with the hope of
escaping from knowledge, letters, science, and morality; to
wear a red coat and an epaulette; to be called captain; to
figure at a ball; to lounge away time in country sports, at
country quarters, was never, even in times of peace, credit-
able; but it it now absurd and base. Submitting to a certain
portion of ennui and contempt, this mode of life for an
officer was formerly practicable, but now cannot be submitted
to without utter, irremediable disgrace. Officers are now, in
general, men of education and information; want of knowledge,
sense, manners, must consequently be immediately detected,
ridiculed and despised, in a military man. Of this we have not
long since seen lamentable examples in the raw officers who
have lately disgraced themselves in my neighbourhood in
Ireland-that Major Benson and Captain Williamson. But
I will not advert to such insignificant individuals, such are
rare exceptions-I leave them out of the question-I reason
on general principles. The life of an officer is not now a life
of parade, of coxcombical, or of profligate idleness; but of active
service, of continual hardship and danger. All the descriptions
which we see in ancient history of a soldier's life, descriptions
which in times of peace appeared like romance, are
realized; military exploits fill every day's newspapers, every
day's conversation. A martial spirit is now essential to the
liberty and the existence of our own country. In the present
state of things the military must be the most honourable pro-
fession, because the most useful. Every movement of an army
is followed, wherever it goes, by the public hopes and fears.
Every officer must now feel, besides this sense of collective
importance, a belief that his only dependence must be on his
own merit; and thus his ambition, his enthusiasm, are raised;
and when once this noble ardour is kindled in the breast, it
now
excites exertion and supports under endurance. But I forget
myself," said the count, checking his enthusiasm; "I promised
to speak soberly. If I have said too much, your own good sense,
my lord, will correct me, and your good nature will forgive the
prolixity of an old man touching upon his favourite subject,
the passion of his youth."
Lord Colambre of course assured the count that he was not
tired. Indeed, the enthusiasm with which this old officer spoke
of his profession, and the high point of view in which he
placed it, increased our hero's desire to serve a campaign
ཁ་
*
I
STÒRIES OF IRELAND.
252
abroad. Good sense, politeness, and experience of the world,
preserved Count O'Halloran from that foible with which olá
officers are commonly reproached, of talking continually of
their own military exploits. Though living retired from the
world, he had contrived, by reading the best books and cor-
responding with persons of good information, to keep up with
the current of modern affairs; and he seldom spoke of those
in which he had been formerly engaged. He rather too studi-
ously avoided speaking of himself; and this fear of egotism
diminished the peculiar interest he might have inspired. It
disappointed curiosity, and deprived those with whom he con-
versed of many entertaining and instructive anecdotes. How-
ever, he sometimes made exceptions to his general rule in favour
of persons who peculiarly pleased him; and Lord Colambre
was of this number.
He this evening, for the first time, spoke to his lordship of
the years he had spent in the Austrian service, and told him
anecdotes of the emperor. He spoke of many distinguished
public characters whom he had known abroad, of those officers
who had been his friends and companions. Among others, he
mentioned with particular regard a young English officer who
had been at the same time with him in the Austrian service, a
gentleman of the name of Reynolds.
The name struck Lord Colambre; it was the name of the
officer who had been the cause of the disgrace of Miss St. Omar,
of Miss Nugent's mother.
66
But there are so many Reynoldses.”
He eagerly asked the age, the character of this officer.
"He was a gallant youth," said the count, "but too adven-
turons, too rash. He fell, after distinguishing himself in a
glorious manner, in his twentieth year; died in my arms."
"Married or unmarried ?" cried Lord Colambre.
Married-he had been privately married less than a year
before his death-to a very young English lady who had been
educated at a convent in Vienna. He was heir to a considerable
property, I believe, and the' young lady had little fortune. The
affair was kept secret, from the fear of offending his friends, or
for some other reason: I do not recollect the particulars.'
""
"Did he acknowledge his marriage?" said Lord Colambre.
"Never till he was dying; then he confided his secret to
me."
Do you recollect the name of the young lady he married ?
Yes; a Miss St. Omar."
ور
"St. Omar!" repeated Lord Colambre with an expression of
lively joy in his countenance. "But are you certain, my dear
count, that she was really married-legally married-to Mr.
Reynolds ? Her marriage has been denied by all his friends
7
1
}
ד
f
}
↑
<
THE ABSENTEE.
253
;
and relations; her family have never been able to establish it
her daughter is- My dear count, were you present at the
marriage?"
"No," said the count, "I was not present at the marriage
I never saw the lady, nor do I know anything of the affair,
except that Mr. Reynolds, when he was dying, assured me
that he was privately married to a Miss St. Omar, who was then
boarding at a convent in Vienna. The young mar expressed
great regret at leaving her totally unprovided for, but said that
he trusted his father would acknowledge her, and that her
friends would be reconciled to her. He was not of age, he said,
to make a will; but I think he told me that his child, who at
that time was not born, would, even if it should be a girl, inherit
a considerable property. With this I cannot, however, charge
my memory positively; but he put a packet into my hands,
which, he told me, contained a certificate of his marriage, and
I think he said a letter to his father. This he requested that I
would transmit to England by some safe hand. ´ Immediately
after his death I went to the English ambassador, who was then
leaving Vienna, and delivered the packet into his hands. He
promised to have it safely delivered. I was obliged to go the
next day with the troops to a distant part of the country. When
I returned I inquired at the convent for information as to what
had become of Miss St. Omar-I should say Mrs. Reynolds-
and I was told that she had removed from the convent to private
lodgings in the town some time previous to the birth of her
child. The abbess seemed much scandalized by the whole
transaction, and I remember I relieved her mind by assuring
her that there had been a regular marriage. For poor young
Reynolds's sake, I made further inquiries about the widow,
intending, of course, to act as a friend if she was in any difficulty
or distress. But I found, on inquiry at her lodgings, that her
brother had come from England for her, and had carried her
and her infant away. The active scenes," continued the count,
"in which I was immediately afterwards engaged drove the
whole affair from my mind. Now that your questions have
recalled them, I feel certain of the facts I have mentioned, and
I am ready to establish them by my testimony."
Lord Colambre thanked him with an eagerness that showed
him how much he was interested in the event. It was clear, he
said, that either the packet left with the ambassador had not
been delivered, or that the father of Mr. Reynolds had sup-
pressed the certificate of the marriage, as it had never been
Acknowledged by him or by any of the family. Lord Colambre
ow frankly told the count why he was so anxious about this
affair; and Count O'Halloran, with all the warmth of youth
and with all the ardent generosity characteristic of his country,
! #1
254
STORIES OF IRELAND.
entered into his feelings, declaring that he would never rest
till he had established the truth.
"Unfortunately," said the count, "the ambassador who
took the packet in charge is dead; I am afraid we shall have
difficulty."
"But he must have had some secretary," said Lord Colambre.
"Who was his secretary ? We can apply to him."
"His secretary is now chargé d'affaires in Vienna; we cannot
get at him.'
"Into whose hands have that ambassador's papers fallen ?--
who is his executor ?" said Lord Colambre.
"His
"His executor? Now you have it," cried the count.
executor is the very man who will do your business-your
friend Sir James Brooke is the executor. All papers of course
are in his hands, or he can have access to any that are in the
hands of the family. The family seat is within a few miles of
Sir James Brooke's in Huntingdonshire, where, as I told you
before, he now is."
“I'll go to him immediately-set out in the mail this night-
just in time," cried Lord Colambre, pulling out his watch with
one hand, and ringing the bell with the other.
"Run and take a place for me in the mail for Huntingdon.
Go directly," said Lord Colambre to the servant.
"And take two places, if you please, sir," said the count.
"My lord, I will accompany you."
But this Lord Colambre would not permit, as it would be
unnecessary to fatigue the good old general; and a letter from
him to Sir James Brooke would do all that the count could
effect by his presence. The search for the paper would be made
by Sir James, and if the packet could be recovered, or if any
memorandum or mode of ascertaining that it had actually been
delivered to old Reynolds could be discovered, Lord Colambre
said he would then call upon the count for his assistance, and
trouble him to identify the packet; or to go with him to Mr.
Reynolds to make further inquiries, and to certify, at all events,
the young man's dying acknowledgment of his marriage and
of his child.
The place in the mail was taken just in time. Lord Colambre
sent a servant in search of his father, with a note explaining
the necessity of his sudden departure. All the business which
remained to be done in town he knew Lord Clonbrony could
accomplish without his assistance. Then he wrote a few lines
to his mother on the very sheet of paper on which a few hours
before he had sorrowfully and slowly begun-
"MY DEAR MOTHER,-Miss Nugent
He now joyfully and rapidly went on—
""
}
xxxen x
'
}
THE ABSENTEE.
255
"MY DEAR MOTHER, AND MISS NUGENT,-I hope to be with
you on Wednesday se'nnight; but if unforeseen circumstances
should delay me, I will certainly write to you again.-Dear
mother, believe me,
"Your obliged and grateful son,
“COLAMBRE.'
The count in the meantime wrote a letter for him to Sir
James Brooke, describing the packet which he had given to
the ambassador, and relating all the circumstances that could
lead to its recovery. Lord Colambre, almost before the wax
was hard, seized the letter, the count seeming almost as eager
to hurry him off as he was to set out. He thanked the count
with few words, but with strong feeling. Joy and love returned
in full tide upon our hero's soul; all the military ideas which
but an hour before filled his imagination were put to flight,
Spain vanished, and green Ireland reappeared.
Just as they shook hands at parting, the good old general,
with a smile, said to him:
"I believe I had better not stir in the matter of Benson's
commission till I hear more from you. My harangue in favour
of the military profession will, I fancy, prove, like most other
harangues, a waste of words."
CHAPTER XVI.
1
In what words of polite circumlocution, or of cautious diplo-
macy, shall we say or hint that the deceased ambassador's
papers were found in shameful disorder. His excellency's
executor, Sir James Brooke, however, was indefatigable in his
researches. He and Lord Colambre spent two whole days in
looking over portfolios of letters and memorials, and manifestoes
and bundles of paper, of the most heterogeneous sort; some of
them without any docket or direction to lead to a knowledge of
their contents-others written upon in such a manner as to give
an erroneous notion of their nature; so that it was necessary to
untie every paper separately. At last, when they had opened,
as they thought, every paper, and, wearied and in despair, were
just on the point of giving up the search, Lord Colambre spied
a bundle of old newspapers at the bottom of a trunk.
<<
They are only old Vienna Gazettes--I looked at them," said
Sir James.
Lord Colambre upon this assurance was going to throw them
}
1
256
STORIES OF IRELAND.
into the trunk again; but observing that the bundle had not
been untied, he opened it, and withinside of the newspapers he
found a rough copy of the ambassador's journal, and with it the
packet directed to Ralph Reynolds, Sen., Esq., Old Court,
Suffolk, per favour of his excellency Earl
A note on
the cover, signed O'Halloran, stating when received by him,
and the date of the day when delivered to the ambassador: the
seals were unbroken. Our hero was in such a transport of joy
at the sight of this packet, and his friend Sir James Brooke so
full of his congratulations, that they forget to curse the ambas-
sador's carelessness, which had been the cause of so much
evil.
The next thing to be done was to deliver the packet to Ralph
Reynolds, Old Court, Suffolk. But when Lord Colambre
arrived at Old Court, Suffolk, he found all the gates locked. At
last an old woman came out of the porter's lodge. She said that
Mr. Reynolds was not there, and she did not know where he was.
After our hero had opened her heart by the present of half a
guinea, she explained that she "could not justly say where he
was, because that he never let anybody of his own people know
where he was any day; he had several different houses and
places in different parts, and far-off counties and other shires,
as she heard, and by times he was at one, and by times at
another. The names of two of the places, Toddrington and
Little Wrestham, she knew; but there were others to which she
could give no direction. He had houses in odd parts of London,
too, that he let; and sometimes, when the lodgers' time was out
he would go and reside in one of them, and not be heard of for
a month. In short, there was no telling or saying where he
was or would be one day of the week, by where he had been the
last.
When Lord Colambre expressed some surprise that an old
gentleman, as he conceived Mr. Ralph Reynolds to be, should
change places so frequently, the old woman answered, that
though her master was a deal on the wrong side of seventy, and
though, to look at him, you'd think he was glued to his chair,
and would fall to pieces if he should stir out of it, yet he was as
alert, and thought no more of going about, than if he was as
young as the gentleman who was now speaking to her. It was
old Mr. Reynolds's delight to come down and surprise his people
at his different places, and see that they were acting properly."
"What sort of a man is he? Is he a miser ?" said Lord
Colambre.
66
"He is a miser, and he is not a miser," said the woman.
"Now, he'd think as much of the waste of a penny as another
man would of a hundred pounds, and yet he would give a hun-
dred pounds easier than another would give a penny, when he's
'
}
1
THE ABSENTEE.
257
in the humour. But his humour is very odd, and there's no
knowing where to have him; he's cross-grained, and more
positiver-like than a mule; and his deafness made him worse in
this, because he never heard what nobody said, but would say on
his own way he was very odd, but not cracked-no, he was as
clear-headed, when he took a thing the right way, as any man
could be, and as clever, and could talk as well as any member of
Parliament and good-natured and kind-hearted where he
would take a fancy; but then, maybe, it would be to a dog (he
was remarkably fond of dogs), or a cat, or a rat even, that he
would take a fancy, and think more of 'em than he would of a
Christian. But, poor gentleman, there's great allowance," said
she, "to be made for him, that lost his son and heir, that would
have been heir to all, and a fine youth, that he doated upon.
But," continued the old woman, in whose mind the transitions
from great to small, from serious to trivial, were ludicrously
abrupt, "that was no reason why the old gentleman should
scold me last time he was here, as he did, for as long as ever he
could stand over me, only because I killed a mouse which was
eating my cheese, and before night he beat a boy for stealing
a piece of that same cheese; and he would never, when down
here, let me set a mouse-trap."
"Well, my good woman," interrupted Lord Colambre, who
was little interested with this affair of the mouse-trap, and no-
wise curious to learn more of Mr. Reynolds's domestic economy,
"I'll not trouble you any further, if you can be so good as to
tell me the road to Toddrington, or to Little Wickham, I think
you call it."
"Little Wickham!" repeated the woman laughing. "Bless
you, sir, where do you come from? It's little Wrestham;
sure everybody knows, near Lantry; and keep the pike till
you come to the turn at Rotherford, and then you strike off
into the byroad to the left, and then again turn at the ford to
the right. But if you are going to Toddrington, you don't
go the road to market, which is at the first turn to the left,
and the cross-country road, where there's no quarter, and
Toddrington lies; but for Wrestham you take the road to
market."
It was some time before our hero could persuade the old
woman to stick to Little Wrestham, or to Toddrington, and not
to mix the directions for the different roads together-he took
patience; for his impatience only confused his director the more.
In process of time he made out, and wrote down, the various
turns that he was to follow, to reach Little Wrestham; but no
human power could get her from Little Wrestham to Toddring-
ton, though she knew the road perfectly well; but she had, for
the seventeen last years, been used to go "the other road," and
I
}
Jo
1
258
STORIES OF IRELAND.
all the carriers went that way, and passed the door. and that
was all she could certify.
Little Wrestham, after turning to the left and right, as often
as his directory required, our hero happily reached; but un-
happily he found no Mr. Reynolds there; only a steward, who
gave nearly the same account of his master as had been given by
the old woman, and could not guess even where the gentleman
might now be. Toddrington was as likely as any place; but he
could not say.
"Perseverance against fortune." To Toddrington our hero
proceeded, through cross-country roads-such roads !-very
different from the Irish roads. Waggon-ruts, into which the
carriage-wheels sunk nearly to the axles-and, from time to
time, "sloughs of despond," through which it seemed impossible
to drag, walk, wade, or swim, and all the time with a sulky pos-
tillion-"Oh, how unlike my Larry!" thought Lord Colambre.
At length, in a very narrow lane, going up a hill, said to be
two miles long, they overtook a heavily-laden waggon, and they
were obliged to go step by step behind it, whilst, enjoying the
gentleman's impatience much and the postillion's sulkiness
more, the waggoner, in his embroidered frock, walked in state,
with his long sceptre in his hand.
The postillion muttered" curses not loud, but deep." Deep
or loud, no purpose would they have answered; the waggoner's
temper was proof against curse in or out of the English language;
and from their snail's pace neither "dickens," nor devil, nor any
postillion in England, could make him put his horses. Lord
Colambre jumped out of the chaise, and, walking beside him,
began to talk to him; and spoke of his horses, their bells, their
trappings; the beauty and strength of the thill-horse; the value
of the whole team, which his lordship happening to guess right
within ten pounds, and showing, moreover, some skill about
road-making and waggon-wheels, and being fortunately of the
waggoner's own opinion on the great question about conieal and
cylindrical rims, he was pleased with the young chap of a gen-
tleman; and, in spite of the chuffiness of his appearance and
churlishness of his speech, this waggoner's bosom, “being made
of penetrable stuff," he determined to let the gentleman pass.
Accordingly, when half-way up the hill, and the head of the
fore-horse came near an open gate, the waggoner, without saying
one word or turning his head, touched the horse with his long
whip-and the horse turned in at the gate, and then came-
Dobbin !-Jeho!"-and strange calls and sounds, which all
the other horses of the team obeyed; and the waggon turned
into the farm-yard.
"Now, master, while I turn you may pass."
The covering of the waggon caught in the hedge as the waggon
*
I
ng mga
:
:
}
·
YF
THE ABSENTEE.
259
turned in, and as the sacking was drawn back some of the
packages were disturbed. A cheese was just rolling off on the
side next Lord Colambre; he stopped it, and the direction caught
his quick eye-" To Ralph Reynolds Esq."-"Toddrington"
scratched out, and "Red Lion Square, London," written in
another hand below.
Now I have found him! And surely I know that hand,"
said Lord Colambre to himself, looking more closely at the
direction.
The original direction was certainly in a handwriting well
known to him; it was Lady Dashfort's.
"That there cheese, that you're looking at so cur'ously," said
the waggoner, "has been a great traveller, for it came all the
way down from Lon'on, and now it's going all the way up again
back, on account of not finding the gentleman at home; and
the man that booked it told me as how it came from foreign
parts."
Lord Colambre took down the direction, tossed the honest
waggoner a guinea, wished him good-night, passed, and went on.
As soon as he could he turned into the London road; at the
first town got a place in the mail; reached London; saw his
father; went directly to his friend Count O'Halloran, who was
delighted when he beheld the packet. Lord Colambre was ex-
tremely eager to go immediately to old Reynolds, fatigued as he
was, for he had travelled night and day, and had scarcely allowed
himself, mind or body, one moment's repose.
66
"Heroes must sleep, and lovers too, or they soon will cease
to be heroes or lovers!" said the count. 'Rest, rest, perturbed
spirit! this night; and to-morrow morning we'll finish the
adventure in Red Lion Square, or I will accompany you
when and where you will; if necessary, to earth's reinotest
bounds."
The next morning Lord Colambre went to breakfast with the
count. The count, who was not in love, was not up, for our hero
arrived half-an-hour earlier than he had appointed. The old
servant Ulick, who had attended his master to England, was
very glad to see Lord Colambre again, and showing him into
the breakfast-parlour, could not help saying, in defence of his
master's punctuality :
"Your clocks, I suppose, my lord, are half-an-hour faster than
ours: my master will be ready to the moment.'
J↑
The count appeared-breakfast was soon over, and the carriage
at the door; for the count sympathised in his young friend's
impatience. As they were setting out, the count's large Irish
dog pushed out of the house-door to follow them, and his master
would have forbidden him, but Lord Colambre begged that he
might be permitted to accompany them; for his lordship recol-
}
..
:
260
lected the old woman's having mentioned that Mr. Reynolds
was fond of dogs.
STORIES OF IRELAND.
They arrived in Red Lion Square, found the house of Mr.
Reynolds, and, contrary to the count's prognostics, found the old
gentleman up. They saw him, in his red nightcap, at his parlour
window. After some minutes' running backwards and forwards
of a boy in the passage, and two or three peeps taken over the
blinds by the old gentleman, they were admitted.
The boy could not master their names, so they were obliged
reciprocally to announce themselves: "Count O'Halloran and
Lord Colambre." The names seemed to make no impression on
the old gentleman, but he deliberately looked at the count and
his lordship, as if studying what rather than who they were. In
spite of the red nightcap and a flowered dressing-gown, Mr.
Reynolds looked like a gentleman-an odd gentleman, but still
a gentleman.
As Count O'Halloran came into the room, and as his large
dog attempted to follow, the count's look expressed-
Say, shall I let him in, or shut the door?
:
"Oh, let him in, by all means, sir, if you please! I am fond of
dogs and a finer one I never saw. Pray, gentlemen, be seated,"
said he; a portion of the complacency, inspired by the sight of
the dog, diffusing itself over his manner towards the master of
so fine an animal, and even extending to the master's companion,
though in an inferior degree. Whilst Mr. Reynolds stroked the
dog, the count told him that "the dog was of a curious breed,
now almost extinct-the Irish greyhound; only one nobleman in
Ireland, it is said, has a few of the species remaining in his
possession. Now, lie down, Hannibal," said the count.
Reynolds, we have taken the liberty, though strangers, of waiting
upon you."
“Mr.
"I beg your pardon, sir," interrupted Mr. Reynolds; "but
did I understand you rightly, that a few of the same species are
still to be had from one nobleman in Ireland? Pray, what is his
name?" said he, taking out his pencil.
The count wrote the name for him, but observed that "he
had asserted only that a few of these dogs remained in the pos-
session of that nobleman; he could not answer for it that they
were to be had."
66
66
Oh, I have ways and means!" said old Reynolds; and
rapping his snuff-box and talking, as it was his custom, loud to
himself, "Lady Dashfort knows all those Irish lords: she shall
get one for me. Ay! ay!"
Count O'Halloran replied, as if the words had been addressed
to him.
'Lady Dashfort is in England."
F
I
THE ABSENTEE.
261
"I know it, sir; she is in London," said Mr. Reynolds hastily.
"What do you know of her?"
"I know, sir, that she is not likely to return to Ireland, and
that I am; and so is my young friend here; and if the thing
can be accomplished, we will get it done for you.'
""
Lord Colambre joined in this promise, and added that, "If
the dog could be obtained, he would undertake to have him
safely sent over to England.”
(6
Sir-gentlemen, I'm much obliged; that is, when you have
done the thing, I shall be much obliged. But maybe you are
only making me civil speeches!"
"Of that, sir," said the count, smiling with much temper,
"your own sagacity and knowledge of the world must enable
you to judge.
"For my own part, I can only say," cried Lord Colambre,
“that I am not in the habit of being reproached with saying
one thing and meaning another."
CC
Hot, I see," said old Reynolds, nodding, as he looked at
Lord Colambre. "Cool!" added he, nodding at the count.
"But a time for everything: I was hot once: both answers good
for their ages."
This speech Lord Colambre and the count tacitly agreed to
consider as another apart, which they were not to hear, or seem
to hear. The count began again on the business of their visit,
as he saw that Lord Colambre was boiling with impatience, and
feared that he should boil over and spoil all. The count com-
menced with—
"Mr. Reynolds, your name sounds to me like the name of a
friend, for I had once a friend of that name. I had once the
pleasure (and a very great pleasure it was to me) to be in-
timately acquainted abroad, on the Continent, with a very
amiable and gallant youth, your son!"
"Take care, sir!" said the old man, starting up from his chair,
and instantly sinking down again; "take care! Don't mention
him to me, unless you would strike me dead on the spot!"
The convulsed motions of his fingers and face worked for some
moments, whilst the count and Lord Colambre, much shocked
and alarmed, stood in silence.
The convulsed motions ceased, and the old man unbuttoned
his waistcoat, as if to relieve some sense of oppression; uncovered
his gray hairs; and after leaning back to rest himself, with his
eyes fixed and in reverie for a few moments, sat upright again
in his chair, and exclaimed, as he looked round:
“Son!—did not somebody say that word? Who is so cruel
to say that word before me? Nobody has ever spoken of him
to me-but once-since his death. Do you know, sir," said he,
fixing his eyes on Count O'Halloran, and laying his cold hand
}
{
262
STORIES OF IRELAND.
on him—“ do you know where he was buried, I ask you, sir ?
Do you remember how he died ? ”
"Too well! too well!" cried the count, so much affected as to
be scarcely able to pronounce the words. "He died in my arms;
I buried him myself!
(C
،،
“Impossible!” cried Mr. Reynolds. Why do you say so,
sir ?" said he, studying the count's face with a sort of bewildered
earnestness. Impossible! His body was sent over to me in a
lead coffin; and I saw it; and I was asked-and I answered,
'In the family vault.' But the shock is over," said he; “and,
gentlemen, if the business of your visit relates to that subject, I
trust I am now sufficiently composed to attend to you. Indeed,
I ought to be prepared; for I had reason for years to expect
the stroke; and yet, when it came it seemed sudden-it stunned
me-put an end to all my worldly prospects-left me childless,
without a single descendant or relation near enough to be dear
to me! I am an isolated being!
(C
CC
No, sir, you are not an isolated being," said Lord Colambre:
you have a near relation, who will-who must be dear to you;
who will make you amends for all you have lost, all you have
suffered; who will bring peace and joy to your heart. You
have a granddaughter?
"No, sir; I have no granddaughter," said old Reynolds, his
face and whole form becoming rigid with the expression of
obstinacy. "Rather have no descendant than be forced to
acknowledge an illegitimate child."
"My lord, I entreat as a friend-I command you to be
patient," said the count, who saw Lord Colambre's indignation
suddenly rise.
66
در
So, then, this is the purpose of your visit," continued old
Reynolds; "and you come from my enemies-from the St. Omars,
and you are in a league with them," continued old Reynolds,
“and all this time it is of my eldest son you have been talking.
>>
"Yes, sir," replied the count; "of Captain Reynolds, who
fell in battle, in the Austrian service, about nineteen years ago;
a more gallant and amiable youth never lived."
Pleasure revived through the dull look of obstinacy in the
father's eyes.
"He was, as you say, sir, a gallant, an amiable youth once-
and he was my pride, and I loved him too, once; but did you
not know I had another ?
""
"No, sir, we did not-we are, you may perceive, totally
ignorant of your family and of your affairs: we have no con-
nection whatever with or knowledge of any of the St. Omars."
re
"I detest the sound of the name," cried Lord Colambre.
CC
Oh, good! good! Well! well! I beg your pardon, gentle-
men, a thousand times. I am a hasty, very hasty old man; but
1
2
Sam
12
E
I
JOB Angora K
I
SOUTHER
}
263
THE ABSENTEE.
I have been harassed, persecuted, hunted by wretches, who got
a scent of my gold. Often in my rage I longed to throw my
treasure-bags to my pursuers, and bid them leave me to die in
peace. You have feelings, I see, both of you, gentlemen;
excuse me, and bear with my temper."
"Bear with you! Much enforced, the best tempers will emit
a hasty spark," said the count, looking at Lord Colambre, who
was now cool again; and who, with a countenance full of com-
passion, sat with his eyes fixed upon the poor-no, not the poor,
but the unhappy old man.
"Yes, I had another son,” continued Mr. Reynolds, “and on
him all my affections concentrated when I lost my eldest, and
for him I desired to preserve the estate which his mother brought
into the family. Since you know nothing of my affairs, let me
explain to you: that estate was so settled that it would have
gone to the child, even the daughter, of my eldest son, if there
had been a legitimate child. But I knew there was no marriage,
and I held out firm to my opinion. If there was a marriage,'
said I,‘show me the marriage certificate, and I will acknow-
ledge the marriage and acknowledge the child;' but they could
not, and I knew they could not; and I kept the estate for my
darling boy," cried the old gentleman, with the exultation of
successful positiveness again appearing strong in his physiog-
nomy; but suddenly changing and relaxing, his countenance
fell, and he added :
"But now I have no darling boy. What use? All-all must
go to the heir-at-law, or I must will it to a stranger-a lady of
quality, who has just found out she is my relation-God knows
how, I'm no genealogist and sends me Irish cheese, and Ice-
land moss for my breakfast, and her waiting-gentlewoman to
namby-pamby me. Oh, I'm sick of it all-see through it-wish
I was blind-wish I had a hiding-place where flatterers could
not find me-pursued, chased-must change my lodgings again.
to-morrow—will, will-I beg your pardon, gentlemen, again.
You were going to tell me, sir, something more of my eldest
son, and how I was led away from the subject I don't know ;
but I meant only to have assured you that his memory was
dear to me, till I was so tormented about that unfortunate affair
of his pretended marriage that at length I hated to hear him
named; but the heir-at-law at last will triumph over me.'
35
"No, my good sir, not if you triumph over yourself, and do
justice," cried Lord Colambre; "if you listen to the truth which
my friend will tell you, and if you will read and believe the con-
firmation of it under your son's own hand in this packet."
"His own hand indeed! His seal-unbroken. But how-
when--where-why was it kept so long, and how came it into
your hands ?"
1
:
X
A
*<^>__"${\
.
t
}
254
STORIES OF IRELAND.
Count O'Halloran told Mr. Reynolds that the packet had
been given to him by Captain Reynolds on his deathbed;
related the dying acknowledgment which Captain Reynolds had
made of his marriage, and gave an account of the delivery of the
packet to the ambassador, who had promised to transmit it
faithfully. Lord Colambre told the manner in which it had
been mislaid, and at last recovered from among the deceased
ambassador's papers. The father still gazed at the direction,
and re-examined the seals.
66
"My son's handwriting; my son's seals! But where is the
certificate of the marriage?" repeated he. If it is withinside of
this packet, I have done great in But I am convinced it
never was a marriage. Yet I wish now it could be proved.
Only, in that case, I have for years done great-
""
"Won't you open the packet, sir?" said Lord Colambre.
Mr. Reynolds looked up at him with a look that said, "I don't
clearly know what interest you have in all this." But unable to
speak, and his hands trembling so that he could scarcely break
the seals, he tore off the cover, laid the papers before him, sat
down, and took breath. Lord Colambre, however impatient,
had now too much humanity to hurry the old gentleman; he
only ran for the spectacles, which he espied on the chimney-
piece, rubbed them bright, and held them ready. Mr. Reynolds
stretched his hand out for them, put them on, and the first
paper he opened was the certificate of the marriage. He read
it aloud, and putting it down, said:
(6
Now, I acknowledge the marriage. I always said, if there
is a marriage, there must be a certificate. And you see now
there is a certificate: I acknowledge the marriage.'
"And now," cried Colambre, "I am happy, positively happy.
Acknowledge your granddaughter, sir; acknowledge Miss
Nugent."
،،
66
Acknowledge who, sir ?”
Acknowledge Miss Reynolds, your granddaughter; I ask
no more; do what you will with your fortune.'
"2
CC
Oh, now I understand. I begin to understand this young
gentleman is in love. But where is my granddaughter P-how
shall I know she is my granddaughter? I have not heard of
her since she was an infant-I forgot her existence-I have done
her great injustice."
She knows nothing of it, sir," said Lord Colambre, who now
entered into a full explanation of Miss Nugent's history, and of
her connection with his family, and of his own attachment to
her; concluding the whole by assuring Mr. Reynolds that his
granddaughter had every virtue under heaven.
And as to
your fortune, sir, I know that she will, as I do, say-
'No matter what she will say," interrupted old Reynolds;
""
(C
3
THE ABSENTEE.
265
"where is she? When I see her, I shall hear what she says.
Tell me where she is-let me see her. I long to see whether
there is any likeness to her poor father. Where is she? Let
me see her immediately."
"She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir-at Buxton.'
"Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles?
I suppose you think I can't stir from my chair; but you are
mistaken. I think nothing of a journey of a hundred and
sixty miles. I am ready to set off to-morrow-this instant."
Lord Colambre said that he was sure Miss Reynolds would
obey her grandfather's slightest summons, as it was her duty
to do, and would be with him as soon as possible, if this would
be more agreeable to him. "I will write to her instantly," said
his lordship, "if you will commission me."
CC
No, my lord, I do not commission; I will go. I think
nothing, I say, of a journey of one hundred and sixty miles.
I'll go, and set out to-morrow morning."
Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with the
result of their visit, now thought it best to leave old Reynolds
at liberty to rest himself after so many strong and varied feel-
ings. They paid their parting compliments, settled the time
for the next day's journey, and were just going to quit the
room, when Lord Colambre heard in the passage a well-known
voice-the voice of Mrs. Petito.
Oh, no; my Lady Dashfort's best compliments, and I will
call again.'
>>
(6
No, no," cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; "I'll have no
calling again-I'll be hanged if I do. Let her in now, and I'll
see her. Jack, let in that woman, now or never."
CC
"The lady's gone, sir, out of the street-door."
"After her, then; now or never, tell her."
"Sir, she was in a hackney-coach.”
Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself;
and seeing the hackney-coachman just turning, beckoned at the
window; and Mrs. Petito was set down again, and ushered in
by Jack, who announced her as-
"The lady, sir "--the only lady he had seen in that house.
CC
My dear Mr. Reynolds, I'm so obliged to you for letting me
in," cried Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the passage, and
speaking in a voice and manner well mimicked after her betters.
"You are so very good and kind, and I am so much obliged to you."
"You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor
kind," said old Reynolds.
"You strange man!" said Mrs. Petito, advancing, graceful
in shawl-drapery; but she stopped short.
CC
My Lord Colambre and Count O'Halloran, as I hope to be
saved!"
E
2
266
STORIES OF IRELAND.
“I did not know Mrs. Petito was an acquaintance of yours,
gentlemen," said Mr. Reynolds smiling shrewdly.
Count O'Halloran was too polite to deny his acquaintance with
a lady who challenged it by thus naming him; but he had not
the slightest recollection of her, though it seems he had met her
on the stairs when he visited Lady Dashfort at Killpatrickstown.
Lord Colambre was indeed undeniably an old acquaintance;
and as soon as she had recovered from her first natural start and
vulgar exclamation, she with very easy familiarity hoped--
(+
My Lady Clonbrony, and my lord, and Miss Nugent, and
all her friends in the family, were well;" and said," she did not
know whether she was to congratulate his lordship or not upon
Miss Broadhurst, my Lady Berryl's marriage; but she should
soon have to hope for his lordship's congratulations for another
marriage in her present family-Lady Isabel to Colonel Heath-
cock, who was come in for a large portion; and they are buying
the wedding-clothes-sights of clothes-and the di'monds this
day; and Lady Dashfort and my Lady Isabel sent me especially,
sir, to you, Mr. Reynolds, and to tell you, sir, before anybody
else; and to hope the cheese come safe up again at last; and to
ask whether the Iceland moss agrees with your chocolate, and is
palatable? It's the most diluent thing upon the universal earth,
and the most tonic and fashionable. The Duchess of Torcaster
takes it always for breakfast, and Lady St. James, too, is quite
a convert; and I hear the Duke of V takes it too-
"}
And the devil may take it too, for anything that I care,"
said old Reynolds.
66
Oh! my dear, dear sir, you are so refractory a patient."
"I am no patient at all, ma'am, and have no patience either.
I am as well as you are, or my Lady Dashfort either, and hope,
God willing, long to continue so."
Mrs. Petito smiled aside at Lord Colambre, to mark her per-
ception of the man's strangeness; then, in a cajoling voice,
addressing herself to the old gentleman-
Long, long, I hope, to continue so, if Heaven grants my
daily and nightly prayers, and Lady Dashfort's also. So, Mr.
Reynolds, if the ladies' prayers are of any avail, you ought to
be, surely; and I suppose ladies' prayers have the precedence in
efficacy. But it was not of prayers and deathbed affairs I came
commissioned to treat, but of weddings my diplomacy was to
speak; and to premise my Lady Dashfort would have come
herself in her carriage, but is hurried out of her senses; and
my Lady Isabel could not in proper modesty; so they sent me
as their double, to hope you, my dear Mr. Reynolds, who is one
of the family relations, will honour the wedding with your
presence."
"It would be no honour, and they know that as well as I do,"
64
F
=
THE ABSENTEE.
267
said the intractable Mr. Reynolds. "It will be no advantage
either; but that they do not know as well as I do. Mrs. Petito,
to save you and your lady all trouble about me in future, please
to let my Lady Dashfort know that I have just received and read
the certificate of my son Captain Reynolds's marriage with Miss
St. Omar. I have acknowledged the marriage. Better late than
never. And to-morrow morning, God willing, shall set out with
this young nobleman for Buxton, where I hope to see, and intend
publicly to acknowledge, my granddaughter-provided she will
acknowledge me"
(6
Crimini! exclaimed Mrs. Petito; "what new turns are
here? Well, sir, I shall tell my lady of the metamorphoses that
have taken place, though by what magic I can't guess. But
since it seems annoying and inopportune, 1 shall make my finale,
and shall thus leave a verbal P.P.C.-as you are leaving town,
it seems, for Buxton, so early in the morning. My Lord Co-
lambre, if I see rightly into a mill-stone, as I hope and believe I
do on the present occasion, I have to congratulate your lordship
(haven't I?) upon something like a succession, or a windfall, in
this denewment. And I beg you'll make my humble respects
acceptable to the ci-devant Miss Grace Nugent that was; and I
won't derogate her by any other name in the interregnum, as I
am persuaded it will only be a temporary name, scarce worth
assuming except for the honour of the public adoption; and that
will, I'm confident, be soon exchanged for a viscount's title, or I
have no sagacity nor sympathy. I hope I don't (pray don't let
me) put you to the blush, my lord."
Lord Colambre would not have let her, if he could have
helped it.
"Count O'Halloran, your most obedient! I had the honour
of meeting you at Killpatrickstown," said Mrs. Petito, backing
to the door, and twitching her shawl. She stumbled, nearly fell
down over the large dog-caught by the door, and recovered
herself. Hannibal rose and shook his ears. Poor fellow! you
are of my acquaintance too." She would have stroked his head,
but Hannibal walked off indignant, and so did she.
CC
Thus ended certain hopes; for Mrs. Petito had conceived that
her diplomacy might be turned to account; that in her
character of an ambassadress, as Lady Dashfort's double, by the
aid of Iceland moss in chocolate, of flattery properly adminis-
tered, and of bearing with all her dear Mr. Reynolds's oddnesses
and roughnesses, she might in time-that is to say, before he
made a new will become his dear Mrs. Petito; or (for stranger
things have happened, and do happen every day) his dear Mrs.
Reynolds! Mrs. Petito, however, was good at a retreat; and
she flattered herself that at least nothing of this underplot had
appeared; and at all events she secured, by her services in this
""
}
268
STÒRIES OF IRELAND.
embassy, the long looked for object of her ambition-Lady
Dushfort's scarlet velvet gown, "not yet a thread the worse
for the wear." One cordial look at this comforted her for the
loss of her expected octogenaire; and she proceeded to discom-
fort her lady by repeating the message with which strange old
Mr. Reynolds had charged her. So ended all Lady Dashfort's
hopes of his fortune.
Since the death of his youngest son she had been indefati-
gable in her attentions and sanguine in her hopes. The
disappointment affected both her interest and her pride as an
intrigante. It was necessary, however, to keep her feelings to
herself, for if Heathcock should hear anything of the matter,
before the articles were signed, he might "be off! " So
she put him and Lady Isabel into her coach directly, and
drove to Rundell and Bridge's, to make sure, at all events, of
the jewels.
In the meantime, Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, de-
lighted with the result of their visit, took leave of Mr. Reynolds,
after having arranged the journey and appointed the hour for
setting off the next day. Lord Colambre proposed to call upon
Mr. Reynolds in the evening, and introduce his father, Lord
Clonbrony; but Mr. Reynolds said-
CC
No, no! I'm not ceremonious. I have given you proofs
enough of that, I think, in the short time we've been already
acquainted. Time enough to introduce your father to me when
we are in a carriage, going our journey. Then we can talk and
get acquainted; but merely to come this evening, in a hurry, and
say, 'Lord Clonbrony, Mr. Reynolds; Mr. Reynolds, Lord
Clonbrony-and then bob our two heads at one another, and
scrape one foot back, and away-where's the use of that non-
sense at my time of life, or at any time of life? No, no! we
have enough to do without that, I dare say. Good morning to
you, Count O'Halloran! I thank you heartily. From the first
moment I saw you I liked you; lucky, too, that you brought
your dog with you! 'Twas Hannibal made me first let you in;
I saw him over the top of the blind. Hannibal, my good fellow,
I'm more obliged to you than you can guess."
"So are we all," said Lord Colambre.
Hannibal was well patted, and then they parted. In returning
home they met Sir James Brooke.
"I told you," said Sir James, "I should be in London almost
as soon as you. Have you found oid Reynolds ? "
"Just come from him.'
How does your business prosper? I hope as well as
mine."
A history of all that had passed was given, and hearty con-
gratulations received.
!
ja ke dalam pe
!
I
H
!
!
FI.
H
·
THE ABSENTEE.
269
Cannot you come
"Where are you going now, Sir James?
with us ?" said Lord Colambre and the count.
"Impossible," replied Sir James; "but perhaps you can
come with me. I'm going to Rundell and Bridge's, to give some
old family diamonds either to be new set or exchanged. Count
O'Halloran, I know you are a judge of these things; pray, come
and give me your opinion."
Better consult your bride elect!" said the count.
'No; she knows little of the matter, and cares less," replied
Sir James.
'Not so this bride elect, or I mistake her much," said the
count as they passed by the jeweller's window and saw Lady
Isabel, who with Lady Dashfort had been holding consultation
while Heathcock played personage muet.
Lady Dashfort-who had always, as old Reynolds expressed it,
"her head upon her shoulders," presence of mind where her
interests were concerned-ran to the door before the count and
Lord Colambre could enter, giving a hand to each, as if they
had all parted the best friends in the world.
"C
How do? how do? Give you joy !-give me joy !—and all
that. But mind! not a word," said she, laying her finger upon
her lips.
"Not a word before Heathcock of old Reynolds, or of
the best part of the old fool-his fortune!"
The gentlemen bowed in sign of submission to her ladyship's
commands, and comprehended that she feared Heathcock
might “be off,” if the best part of his bride (her fortune or her
expectations) were lowered in value or in prospect.
"How low she is reduced!" whispered Lord Colambre, “when
such a husband is thought a prize, and to be secured by a
manœuvre." He sighed.
Spare that generous sigh!" said Sir James Brooke. "It is
wasted."
Lady Isabel, as they approached, turned from a mirror, at
which she was trying on a diamond crescent. Her face clouded
at the sight of Count O'Halloran and Lord Colambre, and grew
dark with hatred when she saw Sir James Brooke. She walked
away to the further end of the shop, and asked one of the shop-
men the price of a diamond necklace which lay upon the counter.
The man said he “really did not know-it belonged to Lady
Oranmore; it had just been new set for one of her ladyship's
daughters, who is going to be married to Sir James Brooke."
Then calling to his master, he asked him the price of the
necklace. He named the value, which was considerable.
"C
"I really thought Lady Oranmore and her daughters were
vastly too philosophical to think of diamonds." said Lady
Isabel to her mother with a sort of sentimental sneer in her
voice and countenance. "But it is some comfort to me to find
!
音
​1
?
1
ZA
1
!
270
STORIES OF IRELAND.
in these pattern women philosophy and love do not so wholly
engross the heart, that they
Feel every vanity in fondness lost."
""Twould be difficult in some cases," thought many present.
"'Pon honour! di'monds are cursed expensive things, I
know," said Heathcock. "But be that as it may," whispered
he to the lady, though loud enough to be heard by others, "I've
laid a round wager that no woman under a countess, married
this winter in London, shall eclipse Lady Isabel Heathcock;
and Mr. Rundell here's to be judge."
Lady Isabel paid for this promise one of her sweetest smiles;
one of those smiles which she had formerly bestowed upon Lord
Colambre, and which he had once fancied expressed so much
sensibility-such discriminative and delicate penetration.
Our hero felt so much contempt that he never wasted another
sigh of pity for her degradation. Lady Dashfort came up to
him as he was standing alone, and whilst the count and Sir
James were settling about the diamonds.
CC
My Lord Colambre," said she in a low voice," I know your
thoughts, and I could moralize as well as you, if I did not prefer
laughing-you are right enough, and so am Í, and so is Isabel :
we are all right. For, look here, women have not always the
liberty of choice, and therefore they can't be expected to have
always the power of refusal."
The mother, satisfied with her convenient optimism, got into
her carriage with her daughter, her daughter's diamonds, and
her precious son-in-law, her daughter's companion for life.
"The more I see," said Count O'Halloran to Lord Colambre
as they left the shop, "the more I find reason to congratulate
you upon your escape, my dear lord."
"I owe it not to my own wit or wisdom," said Lord Colambre,
"but much to love and much to friendship," added he, turning
to Sir James Brooke; "here was the friend who early warned
me against the siren's voice-who, before I knew the Lady
Isabel, told me what I have since found to be true, that
Two passions alternately govern her fate-
Her business is love, but her pleasure is hate.”
"That is dreadfully severe, Sir James," said Count O'Halloran;
"but I'm afraid it is just.'
>>
66
"I am sure it is just, or I would not have said it," replied
Sir James Brooke. For the foibles of the sex I hope I have
as much indulgence as any man, and for the errors of passion
as much pity; but I cannot repress the indignation, the abhor-
rence I feel against women, cold and vain, who use their wit
and their charms only to make others miserable.'
Lord Colambre recollected at this moment Lady Isabel's look
ܕ
L-B
{
THE ABSENTEE.
271
and voice when she declared that "she would let her little
finger be cut off to purchase the pleasure of inflicting on Lady
de Cressy for one hour the torture of jealousy."
CC
Perhaps," continued Sir James Brooke, "now that I am
going to marry into an Irish family, I may feel, with peculiar
energy, disapprobation of this mother and daughter on another
account; but you, Lord Colambre, will do me the justice to
recollect that before I had any personal interest in the country,
I expressed, as a general friend to Ireland, antipathy to those
who return the hospitality they received from a warm-hearted
people by publicly setting the example of elegant sentimental
hypocrisy, or daring disregard of decorum, by privately
endeavouring to destroy the domestic peace of families, on
which at last public as well as private virtue and happiness
depend. I do rejoice, my dear Lord Colambre, to hear you say
that I had any share in saving you from the siren. And now I
will never speak of these ladies more. I am sorry you cannot
stay in town to see; but why should I be sorry-we shall meet
again, I trust, and I shall introduce you-and you, I hope, will
introduce me to a very different charmer. Farewell; you have
my warm good wishes wherever you go."
Sir James turned off quickly to the street in which Lady
Oranmore lived, and Lord Colambre had not time to tell him that
he knew and admired his intended bride. Count O'Halloran
promised to do this for him.
"And now," said the good count, "I am to take leave of
you, and I assure you I do it with so much reluctance that
nothing less than positive engagements to stay in town would
prevent me from setting off with you to-morrow. But I shall be
soon, very soon, at liberty to return to Ireland, and Clonbrony
Castle, if you will give me leave, I will see, before I see Halloran
Castle.
Lord Colambre joyfully thanked his friend for this promise.
66
Nay, it is to indulge myself. I long to see you happy-
long to behold the choice of such a heart as yours. Pray, do not
steal a march upon me-let me know in time. I will leave every-
thing, even the siege of for your wedding. But I trust I
shall be in time."
66
Assuredly you will, my dear count; if ever that wedding-
If" repeated the count.
(C
If," repeated Lord Colambre. "Obstacles, which when we
last parted appeared to be invincible, prevented my having ever
even attempted to make an impression on the heart of the woman
I love; and if you knew her, count, as well as I do, you would
know that her love could not unsought be won.'
"""
"Of that I cannot doubt, or she would not be your choice
but when her love is sought, we have every reason to hope," said
<<
"}
1
272
STORIES OF IRELAND.
the count, smiling, "that it may, because it ought to be, won by
tried honour and affection. I only require to be left in hope."
"Well, I leave you in hope," said Lord Colambre.
"Miss
Nugent Miss Reynolds I should say-has been in the habit of
considering a union with me as impossible; my mother early
instilled this idea into her mind. Miss Nugent thought that
duty forbade her to think of me; she told me so I have seen
it in all her conduct and manners. The barriers of habit, the
ideas of duty cannot, ought not, to be thrown down or suddenly
changed in a well-regulated female mind. And you, I am sure,
know enough of the best female hearts to be aware that
time
59
1
M
"Well, well, let this dear good charmer take her own time,
provided there's none given to affectation or prudery or coquetry:
and from all these, of course, she must be free, and I must be
content. Adieu."
CHAPTER XVII.
As Lord Colambre was returning home he met Sir Terence
O'Fay.
CC
me."
66
Well, my lord," cried Sir Terence, out of breath, you
have led me a pretty dance all over the town. Here's a letter
somewhere down in my safe pocket for you, which has cost me
trouble enough. Phoo! where is it now ? It's from Miss
Nugent," said he, holding up the letter. The direction to
Grosvenor Square, London, had been scratched out, and it had
been re-directed by Sir Terence to the Lord Viscount Colambre,
at Sir James Brooke's, Bart., Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, or
elsewhere, with speed. But the worst haste the worst speed;
for away it went to Brookwood, Huntingdonshire, where I
knew, if anywhere, you was to be found; but, as fate and the
post would have it, there the letter went coursing after you,
while you were running round, and back and forwards, and
everywhere, I understand-to Toddrington and Wrestham, and
where not, through all them English places, where there's no
cross-posts; so I took it for granted that it found its way to the
dead-letter office, or was sticking up across a pane in the post-
master's window at Huntingdon for the whole town to see; and
it a love-letter, and some puppy to claim it under false pretence,
and you all the time without it, and it might breed a coolness
betwixt you and Miss Nugent."
"But, my dear Sir Tereuce, give me the letter, now you have
(C
Oh, my dear lord, if you knew what a race I have had,
t
THE ABSENTEE.
273
1
missing you here by five minutes, and there by five seconds;
but I have you at last, and you have it; and I'm paid this
minute for all I liquidated of my substance by the pleasure I
have in seeing you crack the seal and read it. But take care
you don't tumble over the orange-woman; orange-barrows are a
great nuisance when one's studying a letter in the streets of
London or the metropolis. But never heed; stick to my arm,
and I'll guide you, like a blind man, safe through the thick of
them."
Miss Nugent's letter, which Lord Colambre read in spite of
the jostling of passengers and the incessant talking of Sir
Terence, was as follows:-
"Let me not be the cause of banishing you from your home
and your country, where you would do so much good and make
so many happy. Let me not be the cause of your breaking
your promise to your mother; of your disappointing my dear
aunt so cruelly, who has complied with all our wishes, and who
sacrifices, to oblige us, her favourite tastes. How could she ever
be happy in Ireland, how could Clonbrony Castle be a home
to her, without her son? If you take away all she had of amuse-
ment and pleasure, as it is called, are not you bound to give
her, in their stead, that domestic happiness which she can only
enjoy with you, and by your means ? If, instead of living with
her, you go into the army, she will be in daily, nightly anxiety
and alarm about you; and her son, instead of being a comfort,
will be a source of torment to her.
1
I hope that you will do now, as you have always hitherto
done on every occasion where I have seen you act, what is
right and just and kind. Come here on the day you promised
my aunt you would; before that time I shall be in Cambridge-
shire with my friend Lady Berryl; she is so good as to come to
Buxton for me, and I shall remain with her instead of returning
to Ireland. I have explained my reasons to my dear aunt.
Could I have any concealment from her, to whom, from my
earliest childhood, I owe everything that kindness and affection
could give? She is satisfied; she consents to my living hence-
forward with Lady Berryl. Let me have the pleasure of seeing
by your conduct that you approve of mine.
"Your affectionate cousin and friend,
GRACE NUGENT."
This letter, as may be imagined by those who, like him, are
capable of feeling honourable and generous conduct, gave our
hero exquisite pleasure. Poor, good-natured Sir Terence O'Fay
enjoyed his lordship's delight, and forgot himself so completely
that he never even inquired whether Lord Colambre had thought
i
}
+
27+
STORIES OF IRELAND.
of an affair on which he had spoken to him some time before,
and which materially concerned Sir Terence's interest. The next
morning, when the carriage was at the door, and Sir Terence
was just taking leave of his friend Lord Clonbrony, and actually
in tears, wishing them all manner of happiness, though he said
there was none left now in London, or the wide world even, for
him, Lord Colambre went up to him and said-
"Sir Terence, you have never inquired whether I have done
your business.'
Oh! my dear, I'm not thinking of that now-time enough
by the post. I can write after you, but my thoughts won't turn
for me to business now. No matter."
"Your business is done," replied Lord Colambre.
"Then I wonder how you could think of it, with all you had
upon your mind and heart. When anything's upon my heart,
good morning to my head-it's not worth a lemon. Good-bye
to you, and thank you kindly, and all happiness attend you."
"C
Good-bye to you, Sir Terence O'Fay," said Lord Clonbrony;
and, since it's so ordered, I must live without you."
"Oh! you'll live better without me, my lord; I am not a good
liver, I know, nor the best of all companions for a nobleman,
young or old; and now you'll be rich, and not put to your shifts
and your wits, what would I have to do for you? Sir Terence
O'Fay, you know, was only the poor nobleman's friend, and
you'll never want to call upon him again, thanks to your jewel,
your Pitt's diamond of a son there.
there. So we part here, and de-
pend upon it, you're better without me; that's all my comfort,
or my heart would break. The carriage is waiting this long
time, and this young lover's aching to be off. God bless you
both that's my last word."
:
They called in Red Lion Square, punctual to the moment, on
old Mr. Reynolds, but his window-shutters were shut; he had
been seized in the night with a violent fit of the gout, which, as
he said, held him fast by the leg. "But here," said he, giving
Lord Colambre a letter, "here's what will do your business
without me. Take this written acknowledgment I have penned
for you, and give my granddaughter her father's letter to read
-it would touch a heart of stone-touched mine-wish I could
drag the mother back out of her grave, to do her justice-all one
now. You see at last I'm not a suspicious rascal, however, for
I don't suspect you of palming a false granddaughter upon me.
"Will you," said Lord Colambre, "give your granddaughter
leave to come up to town to you, sir ? You would satisfy
yourself, at least, as to what resemblance she may bear to her
father. Miss Reynolds will come instantly, and she will nurse
you."
""
"No, no; I won't have her come. If she comes, I won't see
CC
THE ABSENTEE.
275
her-sha'n't begin by nursing me-not selfish. As soon as I get
rid of this gout I shall be my own man and young again, and
I'll soon be after you across the sea-that sha'n't stop me. I'll
come to-what's the name of your place in Ireland P-and see
what likeness I can find to her poor father in this granddaughter
of mine, that you puffed so finely yesterday. And let me see
whether she will wheedle me as finely as Mrs. Petito would.
Don't get ready your marriage settlements, do you hear, till you
have seen my will, which I will sign at-what's the name of
your place? Write it down there-there's pen and ink-and
leave me, for the twinge is coming, and I shall roar."
Will you permit me, sir, to leave my own servant with you
to take care of you? I can answer for his attention and fidelity."
"Let me see his face, and I'll tell you."
Lord Colambre's servant was summoned.
Yes, I like his face. God bless you! Leave me."
Lord Colambre gave his servant charge to bear with Mr.
Reynolds's rongh manner and temper, and to pay the poor old
gentleman every possible attention. Then our hero proceeded
with his father on his journey, and on this journey nothing
happened worthy of note. On his first perusal of the letter from
Grace, Lord Colambre had feared that she would have left Buxton
with Lady Berryl before he could reach it; but upon recollection
he hoped that the few lines he had written, addressed to his mother
and Miss Nugent, with the assurance that he should be with
them on Wednesday, would be sufficient to show her that some
great change had happened, and consequently sufficient to
prevent her from quitting her aunt till she could know whether
such a separation would be necessary. He argued wisely-more
wisely than Grace had reasoned; for notwithstanding this note,
she would have left Buxton before his arrival but for Lady
Berryl's strength of mind, and positive determination not to set
out with her till Lord Colambre should arrive to explain. In
the interval poor Grace was indeed in an anxious state of
suspense, and her uncertainty whether she was doing right or
wrong by staying to see Lord Colambre tormented her much.
CC
CC
My dear, you cannot help yourself; be quiet," said Lady
Berryl. "I will take the whole upon my conscience; and I hope
my conscience may never have anything worse to answer for.'
Grace was the first person who from her window saw Lord
Colambre, the instant the carriage drove to the door. She ran
to her friend Lady Berryl's apartment :
+6
ITc is come! Now, take me away.
"Not yet, my sweet friend! Lie down upon this sofa, if you
please, and keep yourself tranquil, whilst I go and see what you
ought to do; and depend upon me for a true friend, in whose
mind, as in your own, duty is the first object."
276
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"I depend on you entirely," said Grace, sinking down on the
sofa; "and you see I obey you."
CC
Many thanks to you for lying down when you can't stand.”
Lady Berryl went to Lord Clonbrony's apartment; she was
met by Sir Arthur.
CC
Come, my love, come quick! Lord Colambre has arrived."
"I know it; and does he go to Ireland? Speak instantly, that
I may tell Grace Nugent.'
""
"You can tell her nothing yet, my love, for we know nothing.
Lord Colambre will not say a word till you come; but I know
by his countenance that he has good and extraordinary news.
They passed rapidly along the passage to Lady Clonbrony's
room.
CC
"Oh, my dear, dear Lady Berryl, come! or I shall die with
impatience,” cried Lady Clonbrony, in a voice and manner be-
tween laughing and crying. There, now you have congratu-
lated, are very happy, and very glad, and all that-now, for
mercy's sake, sit down, Lord Clonbrony! for heaven's sake, sit
down-beside me, here-or anywhere! Now, Colambre, begin ;
and tell us all at once!
""
""
But as nothing is so tedious as a twice-told tale, Lord Co-
lambre's narrative need not here be repeated. He began with
Count O'Halloran's visit, immediately after Lady Clonbrony had
left London; and went through the history of the discovery that
Captain Reynolds was the husband of Miss St. Omar and the
father of Grace; the dying acknowledgment of his marriage; the
packet delivered by Count O'Halloran to the careless ambas-
sador-how recovered, by the assistance of his executor Sir James
Brooke; the travels from Wrestham to Toddrington, and thence
to Red Lion Square; the interview with old Reynolds, and its
final result. All was related as succinctly as the impatient
curiosity of Lord Colambre's auditors could desire.
(6
·
Oh, wonder upon wonder, and joy upon joy!" cried Lady
Clonbrony. So my darling Grace is as legitimate as I am,
and an heiress after all. Where is she?-where is she? In
your room, Lady Berryl? Oh, Colambre! why wouldn't you let
her come in? Lady Berryl, do you know, he would not let
me send for her, though she was the person of all others most
concerned !"
"For that very reason; and Lord Colambre was quite right,
I am sure you must be sensible, when you recollect that Grace
has no idea that she is not the daughter of Mr. Nugent. She
has no suspicion that the breath of blame ever lighted upon her
mother. This part of the story cannot be announced to her
with too much caution; and indeed her mind has been so much
harassed and agitated, and she is at present so far from strong,
that great delicacy-
""
M
1
THE ABSENTEE.
"True, very true, Lady Berryl," interrupted Lady Clonbrony,
"and I'll be as delicate as you please about it afterwards; but,
in the first and foremost place, I must tell her the best part of
the story—that she's an heiress. That never killed anybody."
So, darting through all opposition, Lady Clonbrony made her
way into the room where Grace was lying. Yes, get up, get
up, my own Grace, and be surprised-well you may!—you are
an heiress, after all.”
CC
""
"Am I, my dear aunt? said Grace.
66
True, as I'm Lady Clonbrony-and a very great heiress;
and no more Colambre's cousin than Lady Berryl here. So,
now begin and love him as fast as you please-I give my con-
sent and here he is."
Lady Clonbrony turned to her son, who just appeared at the
door.
+6
CC
C
277
Oh, mother! what have you done?"
What have I done?" cried Lady Clonbrony, following her
son's eyes.
"Lord bless me!-Grace fainted dead!-Lady
Berryl! Oh, what have I done? My dear Lady Berryl, what
shall we do ?'
""
Lady Berryl hastened to her friend's assistance.
There! her colour's coming again," said Lord Clonbrony;
come away, my dear Lady Clonbrony, for the present, and so
will I; though I long to talk to the darling girl myself, but
she is not equal to it yet.
When Grace came to herself, she saw Lady Berryl leaning
over her, and raising herself a little, she said-
"What has happened? I don't know yet; I don't know
whether I am happy or not."
Then seeing Lord Colanibre, she sat quite upright.
"You received my letter, cousin, I hope? Do you go to Ire-
land with my aunt ?"
Yes; and with you, I hope, my beloved friend," said Lord
Colambre. "You once assured me that I had such a share of
your esteem and affection that the idea of my accompanying
you to Ireland was not disagreeable to you. You flattered me
that I formed part of your agreeable associations with home."
Yes-sit down by me, won't you, my dear Lady Berryl?
but then I considered you as my cousin, Lord Colambre, and I
thought you felt the same towards me; but now
>>
66
But now, my charming Grace," said Lord Colambre, kneel-
ing beside her, and taking her hand, "no invincible obstacle
opposes my passion—no invincible obstacle, did I say? Let me
hope that I may say no obstacle but what depends on the
change in the nature of your sentiments. You heard my
mother's consent; you saw her joy."
"I scarcely knew what I heard or saw," said Grace, blushing
1
*
278
STORIES OF IRELAND.
deeply, "or what I now see and hear; but of this I feel secure,
before I comprehend the mystery, before you explain to me the
causes of your-change of conduct, that you have never been
actuated by caprice, but governed by wise and honourable
motives. As to my going to Ireland or remaining with Lady
Berryl, she has heard all the circumstances-she is my friend
and yours-a better friend cannot be; to her I appeal-she will
decide for me what I ought to do; she promised to take me from
hence instantly if I ought to go."
(C
I did; and I would do so without hesitation if any duty or
any prudence required it; but after having heard all the cir-
cumstances, I can only tell you that I willingly resign the
pleasure of your company.
""
"But tell her, my dear Lady Berryl," said Lord Colambre,
"excellent friend as you are. Explain to her-you can, better
than any of us-all that is to be known. Let her know my
whole conduct, and then let her decide for herself, and I shall
submit to her decision. It is difficult, my dear Grace, to restrain
the expression of love, of passion, such as I feel; but I have
some power over myself you know it; and this I can promise
you, that your affections shall be free as air--that no wishes of
friends, no interference, nothing but your own unbiassed choice
will I allow, if my life depended upon it, to operate in my favour.
Be assured, my dearest Grace," added he, smiling as he retired,
you shall have time to know whether you are happy or not."
The moment he had left the room she threw herself into the
arms of her friend, and her heart, oppressed with various
feelings, was relieved by tears-a species of relief to which she
was not habituated.
"I am happy," she said; "but what was the invincible
obstacle? What was the meaning of my aunt's words? and
what was the cause of her joy? Explain all this to me, my
dear friend; for I am still as if I were in a dream.”
With all the delicacy, which Lady Clonbrony deemed super-
fluous, Lady Berryl explained. Nothing could surpass the
astonishment of Grace on first learning that Mr. Nugent was
not her father. When she was told of the stigma that had
been cast on her birth-the suspicions, the disgrace to which
her mother had been subjected for so many years-that mother
whom she had so loved and respected, who had with such care
instilled into the mind of her daughter the principles of virtue
and religion-that mother whom Grace had always seen the
example of every virtue she taught, on whom her daughter
never suspected that the touch of blame, the breath of scandal,
could rest-Grace could express her sensations only by repeat.
ing, in tones of astonishment, pathos, indignation, "My mother!
my mother! my mother!"
you so
1
:
!
1
A
<
VANTA
FM
1
THE ABSENTEE.
279
For some time she was incapable of attending to any other
idea, or of feeling any other sensations. When her mind was
able to admit the thought, her friend soothed her by recalling
the expressions of Lord Colambre's love-the struggle by which
he had been agitated when he fancied a union with her opposed
by an invincible obstacle.
Grace sighed, and acknowledged that in prudence it ought
to have been an invincible obstacle. She admired the firmness
of his decision, the honour with which he had acted towards her.
One moment she exclaimed:
CC
Then, if I had been the daughter of a mother who had con-
ducted herself ill, he never would have trusted me!"
The next moment she recollected with pleasure the joy she
had just seen in his eyes-the affection, the passion, that spoke
in every word and look. Then dwelt upon the sober certainty
that all obstacles were removed.
"And no duty opposes my loving him! And my aunt wishes
it—my kind aunt! And I may think of him? You, my best
friend, would not assure me of this if you were not certain of
the truth. Oh! how can I thank you for all your kindness, and
for that best of all kindness, sympathy? You see your calm-
ness, your strength of mind, supports and tranquillizes me. I
would rather have heard all I have just learnt from you than
from any other person living. I could not have borne it from
any one else. No one else knows my mind so perfectly; yet my
aunt is very good. And my dear uncle! Should not I go to
him? But he is not my uncle-she is not my aunt. I cannot
bring myself to think that they are not my relations, and that I
am nothing to them.'
99
"You may be everything to them, my dear Grace," said Lady
Berryl. "Whenever you please, you may be their daughter.
>>
Grace blushed, and smiled, and sighed, and was consoled.
But then she recollected her new relation, Mr. Reynolds, her
grandfather, whom she had never seen, who had for years dis-
owned her and treated her mother with injustice. She could
scarcely think of him with complacency; yet, when his age, his
sufferings, his desolate state were represented, she pitied him ;
and, faithful to her strong sense of duty, would have gone
instantly to offer him every assistance and attention in her
power. Lady Berryl assured her that Mr. Reynolds had posi-
tively forbidden her going to him, and that he had assured
Lord Colambre he would not see her if she went to him. After
such rapid and varied emotions poor Grace desired repose, and
her friend took care that it should be secured to her for the
remainder of the day.
In the meantime Lord Clonbrony had kindly and judiciously
employed his lady in a discussion about certain velvet furniture,
1
可
​1
280
STORIES OF IRELAND.
which Grace had painted for the drawing-room at Clonbrony
Castle.
In Lady Clonbrony's mind, as in some bad paintings, there
was no keeping; all objects, great and small, were upon the same
level.
The moment her son entered the room her ladyship ex-
claimed:
:
"Everything pleasant at once! Here's your father tells me
Grace's velvet furniture's all packed really, Soho's the best
man in the world of his kind, and the cleverest. And so, after all,
my dear Colambre, as I always hoped and prophesied, at last
you will marry an heiress.”
"And Terry," said Lord Clonbrony, " will win his wager from
Mordicai."
"Terry!" repeated Lady Clonbrony, "that odious Terry! I
hope, my lord, that he is not to be one of my comforts in
Ireland."
"No, my dear mother; he is much better provided for than
we could have expected. One of my father's first objects was
to prevent him from being any incumbrance to you. We con-
sulted him as to the means of making him happy, and the
knight acknowledged that he had long been casting a sheep's
eye at a little snug place, that will soon be open, in his native
country-the chair of assistant barrister at the sessions.
'Assistant barrister!' said my father; 'but, my dear Terry, you
have been all your life evading the laws, and very frequently
breaking the peace; do you think this has qualified you pecu-
liarly for being a guardian of the laws?' Sir Terence replied,
'Yes, sure; set a thief to catch a thief is no bad maxim. ´And
did not Mr. Colquhoun, the Scotchman, get himself made a
great justice by his making all the world as wise as himself
about thieves of all sorts, by land and by water, and in the air
too, where he detected the mud-larks? And is not Barrington
chief justice of Botany Bay?'
(C
My father now began to be seriously alarmed lest Sir
Terence should insist upon his using his interest to make him
an assistant barrister. He was not aware that five years' prac-
tice at the bar was a necessary accomplishment for this office;
when, fortunately for all parties, my good friend, Count
O'Halloran, helped us out of the difficulty by starting an idea
full of practical justice. A literary friend of the Count's had
been for some time promised a lucrative situation under Govern-
ment, but unfortunately he was a man of so much merit and
ability that they could not find employment for him at home,
and they gave him a commission-Ishould rather say a contract-
abroad, for supplying the army with Hungarian horses. Now,
the gentleman had not the slightest skill in horse-flesh, and as
THE ABSENTEE.
281
Sir Terence is a complete jockey, the count observed that he
would be the best possible deputy for his literary friend. We
warranted him to be a thorough-going friend; and I do think
the coalition will be well for both parties. The count has settled
it all, and I left Sir Terence comfortably provided for out of
your way, my dear mother, and as happy as he could be when
parting from my father."
Lord Colambre was assiduous in engaging his mother's atten-
tion upon any subject which could for the present draw her
thoughts away from her young friend, but at every pause in
the conversation her ladyship repeated:
"So Grace is an heiress after all; so, after all, they know
they are not cousins. Well, I prefer Grace a thousand times
over to any other heiress in England. No obstacle, no objec-
tion. They have my consent. I always prophesied Colambre
would marry an heiress; but why not marry directly?"
Her ardour and impatience to hurry things forward seemed
now likely to retard the accomplishment of her own wishes; and
Lord Clonbrony, who understood rather more of the passion of
love than his lady had ever felt or understood, saw the agony
into which she threw her son, and felt for his darling Grace.
With a degree of delicacy and address of which few would have
supposed Lord Clonbrony capable, his lordship co-operated with
his son in endeavouring to keep Lady Clonbrony quiet, and to
suppress the hourly thanksgivings of Grace's turning out an
heiress. On one point, however, she vowed she would not be
overruled-she would have a splendid wedding at Clonbrony
Castle, such as should become an heir and heiress. The wed-
ding, she hoped, would take place immediately on their return
to Ireland; she should announce the thing to her friends
directly on her arrival at Clonbrony Castle.
"My dear," said Lord Clonbrony, "we must, wait, in the first
place, the pleasure of old Mr. Reynolds's fit of the gout."
"Why, that's true, because of his will," said her ladyship;
"but a will's soon made, is not it? That cannot cause much
delay."
66
(6
And then there must be settlements," said Lord Clonbrony;
they take time. Lovers, like all the rest of mankind, must,
submit to the law's delay. In the meantime, my dear," said
Lord Clonbrony, as these Buxton baths agree with you so well,
and as Grace does not seem to be strong enough to undertake a
long journey, and as there are many curious and beautiful scenes
of nature here in Derbyshire-Matlock, and the wonders of the
Peak, and so on-which the young people would be glad to see
together, and may not have another opportunity soon-why not
rest ourselves a little,? For another reason, too," continued his
lordship, bringing together as many arguments as he could, for
CC
་
量
​1
282
STORIES OF IRELAND
he had often found that though Lady Clonbrony was a match
for any single argument, her understanding could be easily over-
powered by a number, of whatever sort-" besides, my dear,
here's Sir Arthur and Lady Berryl come to Buxton on purpose
to meet us; and we owe them some compliment, and something
more than compliment, I think; so I don't see why we should
be in a hurry to leave them, or quit Buxton-a few weeks sooner
or later can't signify-and Clonbrony Castle will be getting all
the while into better order for us. Burke is gone down there,
and if we stay here quietly, there will be time for the velvet
furniture to get there before us, and to be unpacked, and put up
in the drawing-room."
CC
That's true, my lord," said Lady Clonbrony; " and there is a
great deal of reason in all you say; so I second that motion, as
Colambre, I see, subscribes to it.
They stayed some time in Derbyshire, and every day Lord
Clonbrony proposed some pleasant excursion, and contrived that
the young people should be left to themselves, as Mrs. Broad-
hurst used so strenuously to advise; the recollection of whose
authoritative maxims fortunately still operated upon Lady Clon-
brony, to the great ease and advantage of the lovers.
Happy as a lover, a friend, a son; happy in the consciousness
of having restored a father to respectability and persuaded a
mother to quit the feverish joys of fashion for the pleasures of
domestic life; happy in the hope of winning the whole heart of
the woman he loved, and whose esteem he knew he possessed
and deserved; happy in developing every day, every hour, fresh
charms in his destined bride-we leave our hero, returning to
his native country.
And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that he will
support through life the promise of his early character; that
his patriotic views will extend with his power to carry wishes
into action; that his attachment to his warm-hearted country-
men will still increase upon further acquaintance; and that he
will long diffuse happiness through the wide circle which is
peculiarly subject to the influence and example of a great
resident Irish proprietor.
LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT
MR. MORDICAI'S, COACHMAKER, LONDON.
'MY DEAR BROTHER,-Yours of the 16th, inclosing the five-
pound note for my father, came safe to hand Monday last; and
with his thanks and blessing to you, he commends it to you
herewith inclosed back again, on account of his being in no
immediate necessity, nor likelihood to want in future, as you
shall hear forthwith, but wants you over with all speed; and the
THE ABSENTEE.
283
>
I
{
}
note will answer for travelling charges; for we can't enjoy the
luck it has pleased God to give us without yees. Put the rest in
your pocket, and read it when you've time.
"Old Nick's gone, and St. Dennis along with him, to the place
he come from-praise be to God! The ould lord has found him
out in his tricks; and I helped him to that, through the young
lord that I driv, as I informed you in my last, when he was a
Welshman, which was the best turn ever I did, though I did
not know it no more than Adam that time. So Ould Nick's
turned out of the agency clean and clear; and the day after it
was known, there was surprising great joy through the whole
country-not surprising either, but just what you might, know-
ing him, rasonably expect. He (that is, Old Nick and St. Dennis)
would have been burnt that night-I mane in effigy—through the
town of Clonbrony, but that the new man, Mr. Burke, come
down that day too soon to stop it, and said 'it was not becoming
to trample on the fallen,' or something that way, that put an end
to it; and though it was a great disappointment to many, and to
me in particular, I could not but like the jantleman the better
for it, anyhow. They say he is a very good jantleman, and as
unlike Old Nick or the Saint as can be, and takes no duty-fowl,
nor glove, nor sealing money; nor asks duty-work nor duty-
turf. Well, when I was disappointed of the effigy, I comforted
myself by making a bonfire of Old Nick's big rick of duty-turf,
which, by great luck, was out in the road, away from all dwelling-
house, or thatch, or yards, to take fire; so no danger in life
or objection. And such another blaze! I wished you'd seed it;
and all the men, women, and children in the town and country,
far and near, gathered round it, shouting and dancing like mad!
and it was light as day quite across the bog, as far as Bartley
Finnigan's house. And I heard after, they seen it from all parts
of the three counties; and they thought it was St. John's Eve
in a mistake, or couldn't make out what it was; but all took it
in good part for a good sign, and were in great joy. As for St.
Dennis and Ould Nick, an attorney had his foot upon 'em, with
an habere, a latitat, and three executions hanging over 'em; and
there's the end of rogues; and a great example in the country.
And- —no more about it; for I can't be wasting more ink upon
them that don't deserve it at my hands, when I want it for them
that do, you shall see. So some weeks past, and there was
great cleaning at Cloubrony Castle and in the town of Clon-
brony; and the new agent's smart and clever; and he had the
glaziers and the painters and the slaters up and down in the
town wherever wanted; and you wouldn't know it again. Thinks
I, this is no bad sign. Now, cock up your ears, Pat! for the
great news is coming, and the good. The master's come home
—long life to him!—and family come home yesterday, all entirely!
.
"
گھر
284
<
The ould lord and the young lord (ay, there's the man, Paddy !)
and my lady, and Miss Nugent. And I driv Miss Nugent's
maid and another; so I had the luck to be in along wid 'em
and see all, from first to last. And first, I must tell you my
young Lord Colambre remembered and noticed me the minute
he lit at our inn, and condescended to beckon me out of the
yard to him, and axed me- Friend Larry,' says he, did you
keep your promise?' 'My oath again the whisky, is it ?' says
I. My lord, I surely did,' said I, which was true, as all the
country knows I never tasted a drop since. And I'm proud to
see your honour, my lord, as good as your word, too, and back
again among us.' So then there was a call for the horses; and
no more at that time passed betwix' my young lord and me,
but that he pointed me out to the ould one as I went off. I
noticed and thanked him for it in my heart, though I did not
know all the good was to come of it. Well, no more of myself
for the present.
SC
Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to the great gate of
the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see;
with the sun, shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies
noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in
the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about,
and kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were
singing, and I stopped whistling that they might hear thein;
but sorrow bit could they hear when they got to the park gate,
for there was such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see;
and they had the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew
'em home, with blessings, through the park. And, God bless
'em! when they got out they didn't go shut themselves up in
the great drawing-room, but went straight out to the tirrass, to
satisfy the eyes and hearts that followed them: my lady laning
on my young lord, and Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beauti
fullest angel that ever you set eyes on, with the finest com-
plexion and sweetest of smiles, laning upon the ould lord's arm,
who had his hat off, bowing to all, and noticing the old tenants
as he passed by name. Oh, there was great gladness and tears
in the midst; for joy I could scarce keep from myself.
STORIES OF IRELAND.
"After a turn or two upon the tirrass, my Lord Colambre quit
his mother's arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the
slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some
one.
"Is it the widow O'Neil, my lord ?' says I; 'she's yonder,
with the white kerchief, betwixt her son and daughter, as
usual.'
Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the
tree would stir; and then he gave tree beckons with his own
finger, and they all tree came fast enough to the bottom of the
1
паркирано мори рассказ на пазара по азител и оптики или трудния денег мурочиатку
Your body and out of the hot
Speat i setting me verseker ve te AT CREATE
AMES
༣ས
THE ABSENTEE.
285
slope forenent my lord; and he went down and helped the
widow up-(oh, he's the true jantleman!)—and brought 'em all
tree up on the tirrass to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was
up close after, that I might hear-which wasn't manners, but I
couldn't help it. So what he said I don't well know, for I could
not get near enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very
kind, and take the widow O'Neil by the hand, and then Lord
Colambre 'troduced Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the
word namesake, and something about a check curtains; but
whatever it was, they was all greatly pleased; then my Lord
Colambre turned and looked for Brian, who had fallen back, and
took him with some commendation to my lord his father. And
my lord the master said, which I didn't know till after, that they
should have their house and farm at the ould rent; and at the
surprise the widow dropped down dead; and there was a cry
as for ten berrings. 'Be qui't,' says I; 'she's only kilt for joy ;'
and I went and lift her up, for her son had no more strength
that minute than the child new born; and Grace trembled like a
leaf, as white as the sheet, but not long; for them other came tʊ,
and was as well as ever when I brought some water, which Miss
Nugent handed to her with her own hand.
}
666
That was always pretty and good,' said the widow, laying
her hand upon Miss Nugent, and kind and good to me and
mine.'
"C
That minute there was music from below: the blind harper,
O'Niel, with his harp, that struck up Gracey Nugent.'
"And that finished, and iny Lord Colambre smiling, with the
tears standing in his eyes too, and the ould lord quite wiping his,
I ran to the tirrass brink to bid O'Neil play it again; but as I
run I thought I heard a voice call 'Larry ?'
66 6
Who calls Larry?' says I.
66 C
'My Lord Colambre calls you, Larry,' says all at once; and
four takes me by the shoulders and spins me round.
"There's my young lord calling you, Larry-run for your
life.'
So I run back for my life, and walked respectful, with my
hat in my hand, when I got near.
66 6
C
'Put on your hat; my father desires it,' says Lord Colambre.
The ould lord made a sign to that purpose, but was too full to
speak. 'Where's your father ?' continues my young lord.-
He's very ould, my lord,' says 1.-'I didn't ax you how ould he
was,' says he; but where is he?' 'He's behind the crowd below,
on account of his infirmities; he couldn't walk so fast as the rest,
my lord,' says I; 'but his heart is with you, if not his body.'-
I must have his body too; so bring him bodily before us; and
this shall be your warrant for so doing,' said my lord, joking.
For he knows the natur' of us, Paddy, and how we love a joke
286
STORIES OF IRELAND.
in our hearts, as well as if he had lived all his life in Ireland;
and by the same token will, for that rason, do what he pleases
with us,
and more maybe than a man twice as good, that never
would smile on us.
"But I'm telling you of my father. 'I've a warrant for
you, father,' says I; and must have you bodily before the
justice, and my lord chief justice.' So he changed colour a
bit at first; but he saw me smile. And I've done no sin,'
said he; ‘and, Larry, you may lead me now, as you led me all
my life.
"And up the slope he went with me as light as fifteen ; and
when we got up, my Lord Clonbrony said, 'I am sorry an old
tenant, and a good old tenant, as I hear you were, should have
been turned out of your farm.'
"Don't fret-it's no great matter, my lord,' said my father.
'I shall soon be out of the way; but if you would be so kind to
speak a word for my boy here, and that I could afford, while the
life is in me, to bring my other boy back out of banishment.'
66 C
Then,' says my Lord Clonbrony, 'I'll give you and your
sons three lives, or thirty-one years, from this day, of your
former farm. Return to it when you please.'
And,' added my
Lord Colambre, 'the flaggers, I hope, will be soon banished.'
Oh, how I could thank him-not a word could I proffer-but I
know I clasped my two hands, and prayed for him inwardly.
And my father was dropping down on his knees, but the master
would not let him; and obsarved, that posture should only be
for his God. And, sure enough, in that posture, when he was
out of sight, we did pray for him that night, and will all our
days.
66
But before we quit his presence he called me back, and bid
me write to my brother, and bring you back, if you've no objec-
tions, to your own country.
"So come, my dear Pat, and make no delay, for joy's not joy
complate till you're in it. My father sends his blessing, and
Peggy her love. The family entirely is to settle for good in
Ireland, and there was in the castle-yard last night a bonfire,
made by my lord's orders, of the ould yellow damask furniture,
to plase my lady, my lord says. And the drawing-room, the
butler was telling me, is new hung, and the chairs, with velvet
as white as snow, and shaded over with natural flowers, by Miss
Nugent. Oh! how I hope what I guess will come true, and I've
rason to believe it will, for I dreamt in my bed last night it did
-but keep yourself to yourself-that Miss Nugent (who is no
more Miss Nugent, they say, but Miss Reynolds, and has a new-
found grandfather, and is a big heiress, which she did not want
in my eyes, nor in my young lord's), I've a notion, will be some
THE
287
1
time, and maybe sooner than is cted, my Lady Viscountess
Colambre so haste to the wedding. And there's another thing:
they say the rich ould grandfather's coming over; and another
thing, Pat-you would not be out of the fashion, and you see
it's growing the fashion not to be an ABSENTEE.
"Your loving Brother,
P
"LARRY BRADY."
FRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO.
LONDON AND EDINBURGH
1

SEP 19 1917
Elect
3
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
3 9015 06355 0589
*********
DONOR WENS - 73
པའི་གཞིན་ནརྟོགས་མག==3
3
ہی۔