“Now, St. Dennis may come when he will, or Old Nick himself!” So she tied up a blue handkerchief over her head, and had the toothache “very bad.” Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house. “He’s safe in bed,” said the wife. “In bed! When?” “Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the handkerchief over my face. Within the room, look, he is snug.” And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on the chest. A knock, a loud knock at the door. “St. Dennis himself!--Stay, till I unbar the door,” said the woman; and, making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning and saying. “We was all done up for the night, _plase_ your honour, and myself with the toothache, very bad--And the lodger, that’s going to take an egg only, before he’d go into his bed. My man’s in it, and asleep long ago.” With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank disappointment, Mr. Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked into _the room_, saw the good man of the house asleep, heard him snore, and then, returning, asked Lord Colambre, “who he was, and what brought him there?” Our hero said, he was from England, and a traveller; and now, bolder grown as a geologist, he talked of his specimens, and his hopes of finding a mine in the neighbouring mountains; then adopting, as well as he could, the servile tone and abject manner, in which he found Mr. Dennis was to be addressed, “he hoped he might get encouragement from the gentlemen at the head of the estate.” “To bore, is it?--Well, don’t _bore_ me about it. I can’t give you any answer now, my good friend; I am engaged.” Out he strutted. “Stick to him up the town, if you have a mind to get your answer,” whispered the woman. Lord Colambre followed, for he wished to see the end of this scene. “Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me, like my shadow, for?” said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly upon Lord Colambre. His lordship bowed low. “Waiting for my answer, sir, when you are at leisure. Or, may I call upon you to-morrow?”