e my apology for not more minutely entering upon an account of
my life at Callonby. A fortnight had now seen me 'enfonce', the daily
companion of two beautiful girls in all their walks and rides, through a
romantic, unfrequented country, seeing but little of the other members of
the family; the gentlemen being entirely occupied by their election
tactics, and Lady Callonby being a late riser, seldom appeared before the
dinner hour. There was not a cliff upon the bold and rocky coast we did
not climb, not a cave upon the pebbly beach unvisited; sometimes my fair
companions would bring a volume of Metastasio down to the little river
where I used to angle; and the "gentle craft" was often abandoned for the
heart-thrilling verses of that delightful poet. Yes, many years have
passed over, and these scenes are still as fresh in my memory as though
they had been of yesterday. In my memory, I say, as for thee

"Qui sa si te
Ti sovrerai di me."

At the end of three weeks the house became full of company, from the
garret to the cellar. Country gentlemen and their wives and daughters
came pouring in, on every species of conveyance known since the flood;
family coaches, which, but for their yellow panels, might have been
mistaken for hearses, and high barouches, the "entree" to which was
accomplished by a step-ladder, followed each other in what appeared a
never-ending succession; and here I may note an instance of the anomalous
character of the conveyances, from an incident to which I was a witness
at the time.

Among the visitors on the second day came a maiden lady from the
neighbourhood of Ennistimon, Miss Elizabeth O'Dowd, the last of a very
old and highly respectable family in the county, and whose extensive
property, thickly studded with freeholders, was a strong reason for her
being paid every attention in Lord Callonby's power to bestow; Miss Betty
O'Dowd--for so she was generally styled--was the very personification of
an old maid; stiff as a ramrod, and so rigid in observance of the
proprieties of female conduct, that in the estimation of the Clare
gentry, Diana was a hoyden compared to her.

Miss Betty lived, as I have said, near Ennistimon, and the road from
thence to Callonby at the time I speak of--it was before Mr. Nimmo--was a
like the bed of a mountain torrent as a respectable highway; there were
holes that would have made a grave for any maiden lady within