"Are you not pleased with this scenery," said I, "Lady Matilda?" turning a deaf ear to absurdities which I could not answer: "Killarney is the only place with which, after hearing such encomiums as all people of taste lavish upon its exquisite beauty, I have not been disappointed; and the lower Lake is nothing, I am told, in comparison of what we have to see." "_I_ shall see no more, I promise you," replied _Miladi_; "I have had enough of this sort of thing. The air is too damp--it disagrees with me; and besides, the object is achieved. _We have been at Killarney_, and may pass our travelling examination. This sort of thing is vastly tiresome, and too fatiguing for my nerves. Then '_le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle_," I dread the Trosach, but I suppose that we must make a tour in Scotland, Lord John is so bent upon it; and really three days more in this horrible place would kill me." Joyful to my ear were the sounds of parting; and having extricated myself, I scarcely know how, from this "unreal mockery," I took my leave, with a promise to call upon her Ladyship, and, bidding adieu to the rest of her _Court_, I bounded over every obstacle of rock or brush-wood, that separated me from my own party, and never felt the triumph of nature and good sense to be so complete as when I regained their society, and listened once more to their refreshing conversation. We were not molested any farther. I saw some of Lady Matilda's attendant swains yawn and stretch their arms, as I passed them by; and it was not long before we discovered them re-embarked, with cloaks spread across their knees, as a substitute for tables, and engaged in two regular matches at cards, while their boat returned towards Ross' Castle.