“Say your uncle’s in high feather with the government party,” said Sir Harry, “and that he only votes against them as a _ruse de guerre_, as the French call it.” “Insist upon it that I am sure of the election without him; but that for family reasons he should not stand aloof from me; that people are talking of it in the country.” “And drop a hint,” said Considine, “that O’Malley is greatly improved in his shooting.” “And don’t get drunk too early in the evening, for Phil Blake has beautiful claret,” said another. “And be sure you don’t make love to the red-headed girls,” added a third; “he has four of them, each more sinfully ugly than the other.” “You’ll be playing whist, too,” said Boyle; “and never mind losing a few pounds. Mrs. B., long life to her, has a playful way of turning the king.” “Charley will do it all well,” said my uncle; “leave him alone. And now let us have in the supper.” It was only on the following morning, as the tandem came round to the door, that I began to feel the importance of my mission, and certain misgivings came over me as to my ability to fulfil it. Mr. Blake and his family, though estranged from my uncle for several years past, had been always most kind and good-natured to me; and although I could not, with propriety, have cultivated any close intimacy with them, I had every reason to suppose that they entertained towards me nothing but sentiments of good-will. The head of the family was a Galway squire of the oldest and most genuine stock, a great sportsman, a negligent farmer, and most careless father; he looked upon a fox as an infinitely more precious part of the creation than a French governess, and thought that riding well with hounds was a far better gift than all the learning of a Parson. His daughters were after his own heart,--the best-tempered, least-educated, most high-spirited, gay, dashing, ugly girls in the county, ready to ride over a four-foot paling without a saddle, and to dance the “Wind that shakes the barley” for four consecutive hours, against all the officers that their hard fate, and the Horse Guards, ever condemned to Galway. The mamma was only remarkable for her liking for whist, and her invariable good fortune thereat,--a circumstance the world were agreed in ascribing less to the blind goddess than her own natural endowments. Lastly, the heir of the house was a stripling of about my own age, whose accomplishments were limited to selling spavined and broken-winded horses to the infantry officers, playing a safe game at billiards, and acting as jackal-general to his sisters at balls, providing them with a sufficiency of partners, and making a strong fight for a place at the supper-table for his mother. These fraternal and filial traits, more honored at home than abroad, had made Mr. Matthew Blake a rather well-known individual in the neighborhood where he lived.