en shook hands; and Barry told the attorney that he was
welcome to Dunmore House, and the attorney made another bow, rubbed his
hands before the fire and said it was a very cold evening; and Barry
said it was 'nation cold for that time of the year; which, considering
that they were now in the middle of February, showed that Barry was
rather abroad, and didn't exactly know what to say. He remained for
about a minute, silent before the fire, and then asked Daly if he'd
like to see his room; and, the attorney acquiescing, he led him up to
it, and left him there.

The truth was, that, as the time of the man's visit had drawn nearer,
Barry had become more and more embarrassed; and now that the attorney
had absolutely come, his employer felt himself unable to explain the
business before dinner. "These fellows are so confoundedly sharp--I
shall never be up to him till I get a tumbler of punch on board," said
he to himself, comforting himself with the reflection; "besides, I'm
never well able for anything till I get a little warmed. We'll get
along like a house on fire when we've got the hot water between us."
The true meaning of all which was, that he hadn't the courage to make
known his villanous schemes respecting his sister till he was half
drunk; and, in order the earlier to bring about this necessary and now
daily consummation, he sneaked downstairs and took a solitary glass of
brandy to fortify himself for entertaining the attorney.

The dinner was dull enough; for, of course, as long as the man was in
the room there was no talking on business, and, in his present frame of
mind Barry was not likely to be an agreeable companion. The attorney
ate his dinner as if it was a part of the fee, received in payment of
the work he was to do, and with a determination to make the most of it.

At last, the dishes disappeared, and with them Terry Rooney; who,
however, like a faithful servant, felt too strong an interest in his
master's affairs to be very far absent when matters of importance were
likely to be discussed.

"And now, Mr Daly," said Lynch, "we can be snug here, without
interruption, for an hour or two. You'll find that whiskey old and
good, I think; but, if you prefer wine, that port on the table came
from Barton's, in Sackville Street."

"Thank ye; if I take anything, it'll be a glass of punch. But as we've
business to talk of, may-be I'd better keep my head clear."

"My head's never so clear then, as when I've don