“Then upon my credit, your lordship will get neither the name nor description of my Facia, until you earn it by eating a dinner, and drinking a glass of claret with the Rev. Father Finnerty. Are those hard terms, Counsellor?--Ha! ha! ha! I'm not the man to put off a thing, I assure you.” “Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop, smiling at, but not noticing the worthy priest's blunder about the Fucia, “if possible, I shall dine with you soon; but at present it is out of my power to appoint a day.” “Well, well, Doctor, make your own time of it; and now for the purport of our journey. Denis O'Shaughnessy here, my lord, is a warm, respectable parishioner of mine--a man indeed for whom I have a great regard. He is reported to have inherited from his worthy father, two horns filled with guineas. His grandmother, as he could well inform your lordship, was born with a lucky caul upon her, which caul is still in the family. Isn't it so, Denis?” “My lord, in dignity, it's truth,” replied Denis, “and from the time it came into the family they always thruv, thanks be to goodness!” The lawyer sat eyeing the priest and Denis alternately, evidently puzzled to comprehend what such a remarkable introduction could lead to. The Bishop seemed not to be surprised, for his features betrayed no change whatsoever. “Having, therefore, had the necessary means of educating a son for the church, he has accordingly prepared this young man with much anxiety and expense for Maynooth.” “Plase your lordship,” said Denis, “Docthor Finnerty is clothin' it betther than I could do. My heart is fixed upon seein' him what we all expect him to be, your lordship.” “Mr. Finnerty,” observed the Bishop, “you seem to be intimately acquainted with O'Shaughnessy's circumstances; you appear to take a warm interest in the family, particularly in the success of his son.” “Undoubtedly my lord; I am particularly anxious for his success.” “You received my letter yesterday?” “I am here to-day, my lord, in consequence of having received it. But, by the by, there was, under favor, a slight misconception on the part of your--” “What misconception, sir!” “Why, my lord--Counsellor, this is a--a--kind of charge his lordship is bringing against me, under a slight misconception. My lord, the fact is, that I didn't see what ecclesiastical right I had to prevent Denis here from disposing of his own property to--” “I expect an apology from you, Mr. Finnerty, but neither a defence nor a justification. An attempt at either will not advance the interests of your young friend, believe me.” “Then I have only to say that the wish expressed in your lordship's letter has been complied with. But wait awhile, my lord,” continued the priest, good-humoredly, “I shall soon turn the tables on yourself.” “How is that, pray?” “Why, my lord, the horse is in your stable, and Denis declares he will not take him out of it.”