Lady Annaly, who was pleased with the poor fellow’s simplicity and generosity in this tragi-comic statement of the case, inquired if she could in any way afford him assistance. “I thank your ladyship, but Mr. Harry lets me want for nothing.” “Nor ever will, while I have a farthing I can call my own,” cried Ormond. “But I hope, Mr. Ormond,” said Lady Annaly, smiling, “that when Moriarty--is not that his name?--regains his strength, to which he seems well inclined, you do not mean to make him miserable and good for nothing, by supporting him in idleness?” “No, he sha’n’t, my lady--I would not let him be wasting his little substance on me. And did ye hear, my lady, how he is going to lave Castle Hermitage? Well, of all the surprises ever I got! It come upon me like a shot--_my shot_ was nothing to it!” It was necessary to insist upon Moriarty’s submitting to be silent and quiet; for not having the fear of the surgeon before his eyes, and having got over his first awe of the lady, he was becoming too full of oratory and action. Lady Annaly took Ormond out with her, that she might speak to him of his own affairs. “You will not, I hope, Mr. Ormond, ascribe it to idle curiosity, but to a wish to be of service, if I inquire what your future plans in life may be?” Ormond had never formed any, distinctly. “He was not fit for any profession, except, perhaps, the army--he was too old for the navy--he was at present going, he believed, to the house of an old friend, a relation of Sir Ulick, Mr. Cornelius O’Shane.” “My son, Sir Herbert Annaly, has an estate in this neighbourhood, at which he has never yet resided, but we are going there when we leave Castle Hermitage. I shall hope to see you at Annaly, when you have determined on your plans; perhaps you may show us how we can assist in forwarding them.” “Is it possible,” repeated Ormond, in unfeigned astonishment, “that your ladyship can be so very good, so condescending, to one who so little deserves it? But I _will_ deserve it in future. If I get over this--interested in _my_ future fate--Lady Annaly!” “I knew your father many years ago,” said Lady Annaly; “and as his son, I might feel some interest for you; but I will tell you sincerely, that, on some occasions, when we met in Dublin, I perceived traits of goodness in you, which, on your own account, Mr. Ormond, have interested me in your fate. But fate is an unmeaning commonplace--worse than commonplace--word: it is a word that leads us to imagine that we are _fated_ or doomed to certain fortunes or misfortunes in life. I have had a great deal of experience, and from all I have observed, it appears to me, that far the greatest part of our happiness or misery in life depends upon ourselves.”