Lady Cashel had already welcomed Lord George, and shaken hands with the bishop: and was now deep in turnips and ten-pound freeholders with the gouty colonel, who had hobbled into the room on a pair of crutches, and was accommodated with two easy chairs in a corner—one for himself, and the other for his feet. “Now, my dear Lady George,” said the countess, “you must not think of returning to Mountains tonight: indeed, we made sure of you and Lord George for a week.” “My dear Lady Cashel, it’s impossible; indeed, we wished it of all things, and tried it every way: but we couldn’t manage it; Lord George has so much to do: there’s the Sessions to-morrow at Dunlavin, and he has promised to meet Sir Glenmalure Aubrey, about a road, or a river, or a bridge—I forget which it is; and they must attend to those things, you know, or the tenants couldn’t get their corn to market. But you don’t know how sorry we are, and such a charming set you have got here!” “Well, I know it’s no use pressing you; but I can’t tell you how vexed I am, for I counted on you, above all, and Adolphus will be so sorry. You know Lord Kilcullen’s come home, Lady George?” “Yes; I was very glad to hear we were to meet him.” “Oh, yes! He’s come to stay here some time, I believe; he’s got quite fond of Grey Abbey lately. He and his father get on so well together, it’s quite a delight to me.” “Oh, it must be, I’m sure,” said Lady George; and the countess sidled off to the bishop’s fat wife. “Well, this is very kind of you and the bishop, to come at so short a notice: indeed I hardly dared expect it. I know he has so much to do in Dublin with those horrid boards and things.” “He is busy there, to be sure, Lady Cashel; but he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of coming to Grey Abbey; he thinks so very much of the earl. Indeed, he’d contrive to be able to come here, when he couldn’t think of going anywhere else.” “I’m sure Lord Cashel feels how kind he is; and so do I, and so does Adolphus. Lord Kilcullen will be delighted to meet you and the bishop.” The bishop’s wife assured the countess that nothing on earth, at the present moment, would give the bishop so much pleasure as meeting Lord Kilcullen. “You know the bishop christened him, don’t you?” said Lady Cashel. “No! did he though?” said the bishop’s wife; “how very interesting!” “Isn’t it? And Adolphus longs to meet him. He’s so fond of everything that’s high-minded and talented, Adolphus is: a little sarcastic perhaps—I don’t mind saying so to you; but that’s only to inferior sort of people—not talented, you know: some people are stupid, and Adolphus can’t bear that.” “Indeed they are, my lady. I was dining last week at Mrs. Prijean’s, in Merrion Square; you know Mrs. Prijean?” “I think I met her at Carton, four years ago.” “Well, she is very heavy: what do you think, Lady Cashel, she—”