ed in a way that may be far from agreeable, in order
to deceive you.

After the ill-success of her last adventure, which gave me endless
opportunities to banter her, one would have thought I might have been on
my guard as to what her real intentions were; but she managed to mislead
me with an art of dissimulation quite admirable, and lulled me into a
fatal security with regard to her intentions: for, one day, as I was
joking her, and asking her whether she would take the water again,
whether she had found another lover, and so forth, she suddenly burst
into tears, and, seizing hold of my hand, cried passionately out,--

'Ah, Barry, you know well enough that I have never loved but you! Was I
ever so wretched that a kind word from you did not make me happy! ever
so angry, but the least offer of goodwill on your part did not bring me
to your side? Did I not give a sufficient proof of my affection for
you, in bestowing one of the first fortunes in England upon you? Have I
repined or rebuked you for the way you have wasted it? No, I loved you
too much and too fondly; I have always loved you. From the first moment
I saw you, I felt irresistibly attracted towards you. I saw your bad
qualities, and trembled at your violence; but I could not help loving
you. I married you, though I knew I was sealing my own fate in doing so;
and in spite of reason and duty. What sacrifice do you want from me? I
am ready to make any, so you will but love me; or, if not, that at least
you will gently use me.'

I was in a particularly good humour that day, and we had a sort of
reconciliation: though my mother, when she heard the speech, and saw me
softening towards her Ladyship, warned me solemnly, and said, 'Depend
on it, the artful hussy has some other scheme in her head now.' The old
lady was right; and I swallowed the bait which her Ladyship had prepared
to entrap me as simply as any gudgeon takes a hook.

I had been trying to negotiate with a man for some money, for which I
had pressing occasion; but since our dispute regarding the affair of
the succession, my Lady had resolutely refused to sign any papers for my
advantage: and without her name, I am sorry to say, my own was of little
value in the market, and I could not get a guinea from any money-dealer
in London or Dublin. Nor could I get the rascals from the latter place
to visit me at Castle Lyndon: owing to that unlucky affair I had with
Lawyer Sharp when I made him lend me the money