far to-night?” said some; but they were all well enough pleased when his honour got up to drink with them, and sent for more spirits from a shebean-house,[19] where they very civilly let him have it upon credit. So the night passed off very merrily, but, to my mind, Sir Condy was rather upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding there had been such a great talk about himself after his death as he had always expected to hear. The next morning when the house was cleared of them, and none but my shister and myself left in the kitchen with Sir Condy, one opens the door, and walks in, and who should it be but Judy M’Quirk herself! I forgot to notice, that she had been married long since, whilst young Captain Moneygawl lived at the Lodge, to the captain’s huntsman, who after a whilst listed and left her, and was killed in the wars. Poor Judy fell off greatly in her good looks after her being married a year or two; and being smoke-dried in the cabin, and neglecting herself like, it was hard for Sir Condy himself to know her again till she spoke; but when she says, “It’s Judy M’Quirk, please your honour, don’t you remember her?” “Oh, Judy, is it you?” says his honour; “yes, sure, I remember you very well; but you’re greatly altered, Judy.” “Sure it’s time for me,” says she; “and I think your honour, since I _seen_ you last,--but that’s a great while ago,--is altered too.” “And with reason, Judy,” says Sir Condy, fetching a sort of a sigh; “but how’s this, Judy?” he goes on; “I take it a little amiss of you, that you were not at my wake last night.” “Ah, don’t be being jealous of that,” says she; “I didn’t hear a sentence of your honour’s wake till it was all over, or it would have gone hard with me but I would have been at it sure; but I was forced to go ten miles up the country three days ago to a wedding of a relation of my own’s, and didn’t get home till after the wake was over; but,” says she, “it won’t be so, I hope, the next time,[20] please your honour.” “That we shall see, Judy,” says his honour, “and may be sooner than you think for, for I’ve been very unwell this while past, and don’t reckon any way I’m long for this world.” At this, Judy takes up the corner of her apron, and puts it first to one eye and then to t’other, being to all appearance in great trouble; and my shister put in her word, and bid his honour have a good heart, for she was sure it was only the gout that Sir Patrick used to have flying about him, and he ought to drink a glass or a bottle extraordinary to keep it out of his stomach; and he promised to take her advice, and sent out for more spirits immediately; and Judy made a sign to me, and I went over to the door to her, and she said, “I wonder to see Sir Condy so low! has he heard the news?” “What news?” says I. “Didn’t ye hear it, then?” says she; “my Lady Rackrent that was is kilt[D2] and lying for dead, and I don’t doubt but it’s all over with her by this time.” “Mercy on us all,”