to beat those English
lads on their own ground, isn't it? And thorough Irish blood,
too!--thorough Irish blood! He has the 'Paddy Whack' strain in him,
through the dam--the very best blood in Ireland. You know, my mare
'Dignity', that won the Oaks in '29, was by 'Chanticleer', out of
'Floribel', by 'Paddy Whack.' You say you mean to give up the turf,
and you know I've done so, too. But, if you ever do change your
mind--should you ever run horses again--take my advice, and stick to
the 'Paddy Whack' strain. There's no beating the real 'Paddy Whack'
blood."

On the 21st of May, 1844, Lord Ballindine and Fanny Wyndham were
married. The bishop "turned 'em off iligant," as a wag said in the
servants' hall. There was a long account of the affair in the "Morning
Post" of the day; there were eight bridesmaids, all of whom, it was
afterwards remarked, were themselves married within two years of the
time; an omen which was presumed to promise much continued happiness to
Lord and Lady Ballindine, and all belonging to them.

Murray, the man cook, did come down from Dublin, just in time; but he
behaved very badly. He got quite drunk on the morning of the wedding.
He, however, gave Richards an opportunity of immortalising herself. She
behaved, on the trying occasion, so well, that she is now confirmed
in her situation; and Lady Cashel has solemnly declared that she will
never again, on any account, be persuaded to allow a man cook to enter
the house.

Lady Selina--she would not officiate as one of the bridesmaids--is
still unmarried; but her temper is not thereby soured, nor her life
embittered. She is active, energetic, and good as ever: and, as ever,
cold, hard, harsh, and dignified. Lord Kilcullen has hardly been heard
of since his departure from Grey Abbey. It is known that he is living
at Baden, but no one knows on what. His father never mentions his name;
his mother sometimes talks of "poor Adolphus;" but if he were dead and
buried he could not give less trouble to the people of Grey Abbey.

No change has occurred, or is likely to take place, in the earl
himself--nor is any desirable. How could he change for the better? How
could he bear his honours with more dignity, or grace his high position
with more decorum? Every year since the marriage of his niece, he has
sent Lord and Lady Ballindine an invitation to Grey Abbey; but there
has always been some insuperable impediment to the visit. A child had
just been born, or was