thinks we are the most ungrateful wretches under the sun, to be so full of our own affairs and so forgetful of his: we are certainly not likely to leave him unprovided for; he can't imagine that. Here he comes again. My father is gone into Killaloe, Nicholas; but don't be uneasy, he 'll not forget you.” “Forgettin's one thing, Master Tom, and rememberin's the right way is another,” said Nicholas, sternly. “I told him yesterday, and I repeated it to-day, I won't go among them Hottentots.” “Has he asked you?” “Did he ask me?” repeated the old man, leaning forward and eying him fiercely,--“did he ask me?” “My brother means, Nicholas, that papa could n't expect you to go so far away from your home and your friends.” “And where's my home and my friends?” cried the irascible old fellow; “and I forty-eight years in the family? Is that the way to have a home or friends either?” “No, Tom, no,--I entreat--I beg of you,” said Lucy, standing between her brother and the old man, and placing her hand on Tom's lips; “you know well that he can't help it.” “That's just it,” cried Nicholas, catching the words; “I can't help it. I 'm too old to help it. It is n't after eight-and-forty years one ought to be looking out for new sarvice.” “Papa hopes that grandpapa will have no objection to taking you, Nicholas; he means to write about it to-day; but if there should be a difficulty, he has another place.” “Maybe I'm to 'list and be a sodger; faix, it wouldn't be much worse than going back to your grandfather.” “Why, you discontented old fool,” burst in Tom, “have n't you been teasing our souls out these ten years back by your stories of the fine life you led in the Chief Baron's house?” “The eatin' was better, and the drinkin' was better,” said Nicholas, resolutely. “Wherever the devil it comes from, the small beer here bangs Banagher; but for the matter of temper he was one of yourselves! and by my sowl, it's a family not easily matched!” “I agree with you; any other man than my father would have pitched you neck and crop into the Shannon years ago,--I 'll be shot if I would n't.” “Mind them words. What you said there is a threat; it's what the law makes a constructive threat, and we 'll see what the Coorts say to it.” “I declare, Nicholas, you would provoke any one; you will let no one be your friend,” said Lucy; and taking her brother's arm she led him away, while the old man, watching them till they entered the shrubbery, seated himself leisurely in a deep arm-chair, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. “By my conscience,” muttered he, “it takes two years off my life every day I have to keep yez in order.” CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.