lay a hand on him."

"Now, General, you've really made no breakfast at all," said the
hospitable hostess: "do let Guss give you a hot cup of coffee."

"Not a drop more, Mrs O'Kelly. I've done more than well; but, if you'll
allow me, I'll just take a crust of bread in my pocket."

"And what would you do that for?--you'll be coming back to lunch, you
know."

"Is it lunch, Mrs O'Kelly, pray don't think of troubling yourself to
have lunch on the table. Maybe we'll be a deal nearer Creamstown than
Kelly's Court at lunch time. But it's quite time we were off. As for
Bingham Blake, from the look of him, he's going to stay here with your
daughter Augusta all the morning."

"I believe then he'd much sooner be with the dogs, General, than losing
his time with her."

"Are you going to move at all, Ballindine," said the impatient old
sportsman. "Do you know what time it is?--it'll be twelve o'clock
before you have the dogs in the cover."

"Very good time, too, General: men must eat, you know, and the fox
won't stir till we move him. But come, gentlemen, you seem to be
dropping your knives and forks. Suppose we get into our saddles?"

And again the red-coats sallied out. Bingham gave Guss a tender
squeeze, which she all but returned, as she bade him take care and not
go and kill himself. Peter Dillon stayed to have a few last words with
Sophy, and to impress upon her his sister Nora's message, that she and
_her_ sister were to be sure to come over on Friday to Ballyhaunis, and
spend the night there.

"We will, if we're let, tell Nora," said Sophy; "but now Frank's at
home, we must mind him, you know."

"Make him bring you over: there'll be a bed for him; the old house is
big enough, heaven knows."

"Indeed it is. Well, I'll do my best; but tell Nora to be sure and get
the fiddler from Hollymount. It's so stupid for her to be sitting there
at the piano while we're dancing."

"I'll manage that; only do you bring Frank to dance with her," and
another tender squeeze was given--and Peter hurried out to the horses.

And now they were all gone but the Parson. "Mrs O'Kelly," said he, "Mrs
Armstrong wants a favour from you. Poor Minny's very bad with her
throat; she didn't get a wink of sleep last night."

"Dear me--poor thing; Can I send her anything?"

"If you could let them have a little black currant jelly, Mrs Armstrong
would be so thankful. She has so much to think of, and is so weak
herself, poor thing, she hasn't t