“Why, my lord,” said Martin, after pausing awhile and looking very contemplative during the time, “I certainly have the money; that is, I and mother together; but—” “Oh, if you’ve any doubt about it—or if it puts you out, don’t do it.” “Divil a doubt on ’arth, my lord; but I’ll tell you—I was just going to ask your lordship’s advice about laying out the same sum in another way, and I don’t think I could raise twice that much.” “Very well, Martin; if you’ve anything better to do with your money, I’m sure I’d be sorry to take it from you.” “That’s jist it, my lord. I don’t think I can do betther—but I want your advice about it.” “My advice whether you ought to lend me three hundred pounds or not! Why, Martin, you’re a fool. I wouldn’t ask you to lend it me, if I thought you oughtn’t to lend it.” “Oh—I’m certain sure of that, my lord; but there’s an offer made me, that I’d like to have your lordship’s mind about. It’s not much to my liking, though; and I think it’ll be betther for me to be giving you the money,” and then Martin told his landlord the offer which had been made to him by Daly, on the part of Barry Lynch. “You see, my lord,” he concluded by saying, “it’d be a great thing to be shut of Barry entirely out of the counthry, and to have poor Anty’s mind at ase about it, should she iver live to get betther; but thin, I don’t like to have dailings with the divil, or any one so much of his colour as Barry Lynch.” “This is a very grave matter, Martin, and takes some little time to think about. To tell the truth, I forgot your matrimonial speculation when I asked for the money. Though I want the cash, I think you should keep it in your power to close with Barry: no, you’d better keep the money by you.” “After all, the ould woman could let me have it on the security of the house, you know, av’ I did take up with the offer. So, any way, your lordship needn’t be balked about the cash.” “But is Miss Lynch so very ill, Martin?” “’Deed, and she is, Mr Frank; very bad intirely. Doctor Colligan was with her three times yestherday.” “And does Barry take any notice of her now she’s ill?” “Why, not yet he didn’t; but then, we kept it from him as much as we could, till it got dangerous like. Mother manes to send Colligan to him to-day, av’ he thinks she’s not betther.” “If she were to die, Martin, there’d be an end of it all, wouldn’t there?” “Oh, in course there would, my lord”—and then he added, with a sigh, “I’d be sorry she’d die, for, somehow, I’m very fond of her, quare as it’ll seem to you. I’d be very sorry she should die.” “Of course you would, Martin; and it doesn’t seem queer at all.” “Oh, I wasn’t thinking about the money, then, my lord; I was only thinking of Anty herself: you don’t know what a good young woman she is—it’s anything but herself she’s thinking of always.” “Did she make any will?” “Deed she didn’t, my lord: nor won’t, it’s my mind.”