vanished.

Major McMahon, my mother's uncle, was an old officer, who, having seen
much service for the better part of half a century,--his sword being his
only patrimony,--on retiring from the army had come to live with us at
Castle Ballinahone when I was a mere slip of a boy. Knowing the world
well,--having been taught prudence by experience, though he had never
managed to save any of his pay or prize-money, and was as poor as when
he first carried the colours,--he was of the greatest service to my
father, who, like many another Irish gentleman of those days, knew
nothing of the world, and possessed but a small modicum of the quality I
have mentioned. The major, seeing the way matters were going at Castle
Ballinahone, endeavoured to set an example of sobriety to the rest of
the establishment by abstaining altogether from his once favourite
beverage of rum shrub and whisky punch, although he had a head which the
strongest liquor would have failed to affect, and he was therefore well
able to manage everything on the estate with prudence, and as much
economy as the honour of the family would allow. My father was an Irish
gentleman, every inch of him. He delighted to keep up the habits and
customs of the country, which, to say the best of them, were not
calculated to serve his own interests or those of his family. He was
kind-hearted and generous; and if it had not been for the rum shrub, and
whisky-toddy, and the hogsheads of claret which found their way into his
cellar, and thence into his own and his guests' insides, he would have
been happy and prosperous, with few cares to darken his doors. But the
liquor, however good in itself, proved a treacherous friend, as it
served him a scurvy trick in return for the affection he had shown to
it, leaving him a martyr to the gout, which, while it held sway over
him, soured his otherwise joyous and happy spirits. It made him
occasionally seem harsh even to us, though he was in the main one of the
kindest and most indulgent of fathers. He was proud of his family, of
his estate,--or what remained of it,--of his children, and, more than
all, of his wife; and just reason he had to be so of the latter, for she
was as excellent a mother as ever breathed, with all the attractive
qualities of an Irish lady. That means a mighty deal; for I have since
roamed the world over, and never have I found any of their sex to
surpass my fair countrywomen.

I must describe our family mansio