“Oh, impertinent, your honour! it’s very kind--and, sure, none’s a stranger to one’s heart, that feels for one. And for myself, I can talk of my troubles without thinking of them. So, I’ll tell you all--if the worst comes to the worst--all that is, is, that we must quit, and give up this little snug place, and house, and farm, and all, to the agent--which would be hard on us, and me a widow, when my husband did all that is done to the land; and if your honour was a judge, you could see, if you stepped out, there has been a deal done, and built the house, and all--but it plased Heaven to take him. Well, he was too good for this world, and I’m satisfied--I’m not saying a word again’ that--I trust we shall meet in heaven, and be happy, surely. And, meantime, here’s my boy, that will make me as happy as ever widow was on earth--if the agent will let him. And I can’t think the agent, though they that know him best call him Old Nick, would be so wicked to take from us that which he never gave us. The good lord himself granted us the _lase_; the life’s dropped, and the years is out; but we had a promise of renewal in writing from the landlord. God bless him! if he was not away, he’d be a good gentleman, and we’d be happy and safe.” “But if you have a promise in writing of a renewal, surely you are safe, whether your landlord is absent or present.” “Ah, no! that makes a great _differ_, when there’s no eye or hand over the agent. I would not wish to speak or think ill of him or any man; but was he an angel, he could not know to do the tenantry justice, the way he is living always in Dublin, and coming down to the country only the receiving days, to make a sweep among us, and gather up the rents in a hurry, and he in such haste back to town--can just stay to count over our money, and give the receipts. Happy for us if we get that same!--but can’t expect he should have time to see or hear us, or mind our improvements, any more than listen to our complaints! Oh, there’s great excuse for the gentleman, if that was any comfort for us,” added she, smiling. “But, if he does not live amongst you himself, has not he some under agent, who lives in the country?” said Lord Colambre. “He has so.” “And he should know your concerns: does he mind them?”