queerness, in his homely features.

Good Dr. Walsingham, indeed, in his simple benevolence, had helped the
strange, kindly creature through college, and had a high opinion of him,
and a great delight in his company. They were both much given to books,
and according to their lights zealous archaeologists. They had got hold
of Chapelizod Castle, a good tough enigma. It was a theme they never
tired of. Loftus had already two folios of extracts copied from all the
records to which Dr. Walsingham could procure him access. They could not
have worked harder, indeed, if they were getting up evidence to prove
their joint title to Lord Castlemallard's estates. This pursuit was a
bond of close sympathy between the rector and the student, and they
spent more time than appeared to his parishioners quite consistent with
sanity in the paddock by the river, pacing up and down, and across,
poking sticks into the earth and grubbing for old walls underground.

Loftus, moreover, was a good Irish scholar, and from Celtic MSS. had
elicited some cross-lights upon his subject--not very bright or steady,
I allow--but enough to delight the rector, and inspire him with a tender
reverence for the indefatigable and versatile youth, who was devoting to
the successful equitation of their hobby so many of his hours, and so
much of his languages, labour, and brains.

Lord Castlemallard was accustomed to be listened to, and was not aware
how confoundedly dull his talk sometimes was. It was measured, and
dreamy, and every way slow. He was entertaining the courteous old
general at the head of the table, with an oration in praise of Paul
Dangerfield--a wonderful man--immensely wealthy--the cleverest man of
his age--he might have been anything he pleased. His lordship really
believed his English property would drop to pieces if Dangerfield
retired from its management, and he was vastly obliged to him inwardly,
for retaining the agency even for a little time longer. He was coming
over to visit the Irish estates--perhaps to give Nutter a wrinkle or
two. He was a bachelor, and his lordship averred would be a prodigious
great match for some of our Irish ladies. Chapelizod would be his
headquarters while in Ireland. No, he was not sure--he rather thought he
was _not_ of the Thorley family; and so on for a mighty long time. But
though he tired them prodigiously, he contrived to evoke before their
minds' eyes a very gigantic, though somewhat hazy figure, and a g