“An' why would yer honer? Sure was n't it always on the evenings, when the company was all together in the great house, that Mr. Cashel used to steal down here and tie his horse to the wicket, and then gallop back again at full speed, so that the servants towld me he was never missed out of the room!” “And does she like him,--do they say she likes him?” “Not like him wid a place such as this!” said Tom, waving his hand towards the wide-spreading fields and woods of the demesne. “Bathershin! sure the Queen of England might be proud of it!” “Very true,” said Linton, affecting to be struck by the shrewdness of the speaker. “See, now,” said Tom, who began to feel a certain importance from being listened to, “I know faymales well, and so I ought! but take the nicest, quietest, and most innocent one among them, and by my conscience ye 'll see, 't is money and money's worth she cares for more nor the best man that ever stepped! Tell her 'tis silk she'll be wearin', and goold in her ears, and ye may be as ould and ogly as Tim Hogan at the cross roods!” “You have n't a good opinion of the fair sex, Thomas,” said Linton, carelessly, for he was far less interested in his speculations than his facts. “Well, as to your own case,--leave that in my hands. I may not have all the influence of Miss Leicester, but I suspect that I can do what you want on this occasion.” And without waiting for the profuse expressions of his gratitude, Linton passed on and entered the garden, through which a little path led directly to the door of the cottage. “At breakfast, I suppose?” said Linton to the servant who received him. “The master is, sir; but Miss Mary isn't well this morning.” “Nothing of consequence, I hope?” “Only a headache from fatigue, sir.” So saying, he ushered Linton, whose visits were admitted on the most intimate footing, into the room where Mr. Corrigan sat by himself at the breakfast-table. “Alone, sir!” said Linton as he closed the door behind him, and conveying in his look an air of surprise and alarm. “Yes, Mr. Linton, almost the only time I remember to have been so for many a year. My poor child has had a night of some anxiety, which, although bearing well at the time, has exacted its penalty at last in a slight attack of fever. It will, I trust, pass over in a few hours; and you,--where have you been; they said you had been absent for a day or two?”