e, Dan."

"Faith, I was, I own to you. I thought you one of those inveterate
Irishers that could n't think of anything but Celtic blood. You
remember, when we were boys, how we used to rave on that theme."

"Very true. Like all the grafts, we deemed ourselves purer than the
ancient stock; but no man ever knows when, where, or whom he'll marry.
It's all nonsense planning and speculating about it. You might as well
look out for a soft spot to fall in a steeplechase. You come smash down
in the very middle of your speculations. I 'm sure, as for me, I never
dreamed of a wife till I found that I had one."

"I know so well how it all happened," cried Dan, laughing. "You got
up one of those delightful intimacies--that pleasant, familiar kind of
half-at-homishness that throws a man always off his guard, and leaves
him open to every assault of female fascination, just when he fancies
that he is the delight of the whole circle. Egad, I've had at least
half-a-dozen such, and must have been married at least as many times, if
somebody hadn't discovered, in the mean while, that I was ruined."

"So that you never fell in love in your prosperous days, Dan?"

"Who does--who ever did? The minor that wrote sonnets has only to come
of age, and feel that he can indite a check, to be cured of his love
fever. Love is a passion most intimately connected with laziness and
little money. Give a fellow seven or eight thousand a-year, good
health and good spirits, and I 'll back him to do every other folly in
Christendom before he thinks of marriage."

"From all of which I am to conclude that you set down this act of
mine either as a proof of a weak mind or a failing exchequer," said my
father.

"Not in your case," said he, more slowly, and with a greater air of
reflection. "You had always a dash of ambition about you; and the
chances are that you set your affections on one that you half despaired
of obtaining, or had really no pretentions to look for. I see I 'm
right, Walter," said he, as my father fidgeted, and looked confused. "I
could have wagered a thousand on it, if I had as much. You entered for
the royal plate, and, by Jove! I believe you were right."

"You have not made so bad a guess of it, Dan; but what say the rest?
What's the town gossip?"

"Do you not know Dublin as well or better than I do? Can't you frame to
a very letter every syllable that has been uttered on the subject? or
need I describe to you my Lady Kilfoyle's fan