nly more fun in it; and you can go
out with the harriers on a Sunday afternoon, and live like a 'ra'al
O'Kelly of the ould times';--only the punch'll kill you in about ten
years."

"Go on, Dot, go on. You want to provoke me, but you won't. I wonder
whether you'd bear it as well, if I told you you'd die a broken-down
black-leg, without a friend or a shilling to bless you."

"I don't think I should, because I should know that you were
threatening me with a fate which my conduct and line of life would not
warrant any one in expecting."

"Upon my word, then, I think there's quite as much chance of that as
there is of my getting shut up by bailiffs in Kelly's Court, and dying
drunk. I'll bet you fifty pounds I've a better account at my bankers
than you have in ten years."

"Faith, I'll not take it. It'll be hard work getting fifty pounds out
of you, then! In the meantime, come and play a game of billiards before
dinner."

To this Lord Ballindine consented, and they adjourned to the
billiard-room; but, before they commenced playing, Blake declared that
if the names of Lord Cashel or Miss Wyndham were mentioned again that
evening, he should retreat to his own room, and spend the hours by
himself; so, for the rest of that day, Lord Ballindine was again driven
back upon Brien Boru and the Derby for conversation, as Dot was too
close about his own stable to talk much of his own horses and their
performances, except when he was doing so with an eye to business.

XI. THE EARL OF CASHEL

About two o'clock on the following morning, Lord Ballindine set off for
Grey Abbey, on horseback, dressed with something more than ordinary
care, and with a considerable palpitation about his heart. He hardly
knew, himself, what or whom he feared, but he knew that he was afraid
of something. He had a cold, sinking sensation within him, and he felt
absolutely certain that he should be signally defeated in his present
mission. He had plenty of what is usually called courage; had his
friend recommended him instantly to call out Lord Kilcullen and shoot
him, and afterwards any number of other young men who might express a
thought in opposition to his claim on Miss Wyndham's hand, he would
have set about it with the greatest readiness and aptitude; but he knew
he could not baffle the appalling solemnity of Lord Cashel, in his own
study. Frank was not so very weak a man as he would appear to be when
in the society of Blake. He unfortunat