swore to it!" and then he rode on
towards the lodge, in a state of mind for which I am quite unable to
account, if his disbelief in Fanny Wyndham's constancy was really as
strong as he had declared it to be. And, as he rode, many unusual
thoughts--for, hitherto, Frank had not been a very deep-thinking
man--crowded his mind, as to the baseness, falsehood, and iniquity of
the human race, especially of rich cautious old peers who had beautiful
wards in their power.

By the time he had reached the lodge, he had determined that he must
now do something, and that, as he was quite unable to come to any
satisfactory conclusion on his own unassisted judgment, he must consult
Blake, who, by the bye, was nearly as sick of Fanny Wyndham as he would
have been had he himself been the person engaged to marry her.

As he rode round to the yard, he saw his friend standing at the door of
one of the stables, with a cigar in his mouth.

"Well, Frank, how does Brien go to-day? Not that he'll ever be the
thing till he gets to the other side of the water. They'll never be
able to bring a horse out as he should be, on the Curragh, till they've
regular trained gallops. The slightest frost in spring, or sun in
summer, and the ground's so hard, you might as well gallop your horse
down the pavement of Grafton Street."

"Confound the horse," answered Frank; "come here, Dot, a minute. I want
to speak to you."

"What the d----l's the matter?--he's not lame, is he?"

"Who?--what?--Brien Boru? Not that I know of. I wish the brute had
never been foaled."

"And why so? What crotchet have you got in your head now? Something
wrong about Fanny, I suppose?"

"Why, did you hear anything?"

"Nothing but what you've told me."

"I've just seen Mat Tierney, and he told me that Kilcullen had
declared, at a large dinner-party, yesterday, that the match between me
and his cousin was finally broken off."

"You wouldn't believe what Mat Tierney would say? Mat was only taking a
rise out of you."

"Not at all: he was not only speaking seriously, but he told me what
I'm very sure was the truth, as far as Lord Kilcullen was concerned. I
mean, I'm sure Kilcullen said it, and in the most public manner he
could; and now, the question is, what had I better do?"

"There's no doubt as to what you'd better do; the question is what
you'd rather do?"

"But what had I _better_ do? call on Kilcullen for an explanation?"

"That's the last thing to think of. No; bu