“I understand your compassion well,” said Cashel, scornfully. “You are right, sir. It was the buccaneer, not the gentleman, spoke there; but I 'm sick of masquerading, and I long for a little reality.” Without waiting for a reply, Roland left the room, and wandered out into the park. CHAPTER IX. THE BURNT LETTER--“GREAT EXPECTATIONS” “'Like Dido's self,' she said, 'I'm free! Trojan or Tyrian are alike to me.'” There was but one species of tyranny Mr. Kennyfeck ever attempted in his family: this was, to shroud with a solemn mystery every little event in his professional career which he saw excited any curiosity with his wife and daughters. It was true that on such occasions he became a mark for most sneering insinuations and derisive commentaries, but he rose with the dignity of a martyr above all their taunts, and doubtless felt in his heart the supporting energy of a high-priest standing watch over the gate of the Temple. The few pencilled lines by Cashel, which had summoned him to the meeting recorded in the last chapter, he threw into the fire as soon as he had read, and then arising from the breakfast-table, dryly observed,-- “Don't wait breakfast, Mrs. Kennyfeck; I shall not be back for some time.” “Another secret, Mr. Kennyfeck?” said his wife, scoffingly. He only smiled in reply. “It ought to be a duel, at least, pa,” said his eldest daughter, “from the urgent haste of your departure.” “Or a runaway couple, who wish to have the settlements--” “Is that all you know of the matter, Livy?” said her sister, laughing heartily; “why, child, your Gretna Green folks never have settlements--never think of them till six months later, when they are wanting to separate.” “Is there any occasion for mystery in this case?” rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, haughtily. “To be sure there may, my dear,” broke in Aunt Fanny; “there 's many a dirty thing the lawyers have to do they 'd be ashamed to own before their families.” Even this did not move Mr. Kennyfeck, and, although from the way he nestled his chin behind the folds of his white cravat, and a certain scarcely perceptible shake of the head, it was clear he longed to refute the foul aspersion. “I suppose you will appear at dinner, sir?” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with her grandest air. “I hope so, Mrs. Kennyfeck,” was the mild answer. “Without you should take it into your head, pa, to enter into rivalry with Mr. Linton, and stay away, heaven knows where or how long,” said Miss Kennyfeck. Mr. Kennyfeck did not wait for more, but left the room with an air whose solemnity well suited any amount of secrecy. “Is there a carriage at the door?” said Mrs. Kennyfeck. “No, mamma; there are three saddle-horses--one with a side-saddle. That odious Miss Meek!” exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck; “what Lord Charles can see in her I cannot conceive. To be sure, she saves a stable-boy the more, and that to him is something.”