he, turning on his saddle; and then, recognizing Fagan, he reined
short in, and called out, "Halloo, Tony! who ever expected to see you
here?--Miss Polly, your servant. A most unexpected pleasure this," added
he, springing from his saddle, and advancing towards them with his hat
off.

"It is not often I indulge myself with a holiday, Mr. MacNaghten," said
Fagan, as though half ashamed of the confession.

"So much the worse for you, Fagan, and for your handsome daughter
here,--not to speak of the poor thriftless devils, like myself, who are
the objects of your industrious hours. Eh, Tony, is n't that true?" and
he laughed heartily at his impudent joke.

"And if it were not for such industry, sir," said the daughter, sternly,
"how many like you would be abroad to-day?"

[Illustration: 052]

"By Jove, you are quite right, Miss Polly. It is exactly as you say.
Your excellent father is the providence of us younger sons; and I, for
one, will never prove ungrateful to him. But pray let us turn to another
theme. Shall I show you the grounds and the gardens? The house is
in such a mess of confusion that it is scarcely worth seeing. The
conservatory, however, and the dairy are nearly finished; and if you can
breakfast on grapes and a pineapple, with fresh cream to wash them down,
I 'll promise to entertain you."

"We ask for nothing better, Mr. MacNaghten," said Fagan, who was not
sorry to prolong an interview that might afford him the information he
sought for.

"Now for breakfast, and then for sight-seeing," said Dan, politely
offering his arm to the young lady, and leading the way towards the
house.

CHAPTER IV. A BREAKFAST AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

To do the honors of another man's house is a tremendous test of tact.
In point of skill or address, we know of few things more difficult. The
ease which sits so gracefully on a host becomes assurance when practised
by a representative; and there is a species of monarchy about the
lord of a household that degenerates into usurpation in the hands of a
pretender. It is not improbable, then, Dan MacNaghten's success in
this trying part was mainly attributable to the fact that he had never
thought of its difficulty. He had gone through a fine property in a
few years of dissipation, during which he had played the entertainer so
often and so well that nothing seemed to him more natural than a seat
at the head of a table, nor any task more simple or agreeable than to
dispen