er that you may judge for yourself."

"Of course, then, you are aware that they have a son abroad."

"I am, sir, and a fine young man they say he is. Nothing vexes them so
much as that he won't come to see them. He's never off their tongue; and
if he's aquil to what they say of him, upon my credit the sun needn't
take the trouble of shinin' on him."

"Have they any expectation of a visit from him, do you know'?"

"Not that I hear, sir; but I know that nothing would rise the cockles of
their hearts aquil to seein' him among them. Poor fellow! Mr. Hamilton's
will was a bad business for him, as it was thought he'd have danced into
the property. But then, they say, his other uncle will provide for him,
especially as he took him from the family, by all accounts, on that
condition."

This information--if information it could be called--was nothing more
nor less than wormwood and gall to the gentleman on whose ears and
into whose heart it fell. The consciousness of his present
position--discarded by a kind uncle for dishonesty, and deprived, as
he thought, by the caprice or mental imbecility, of another uncle, of a
property amounting to upwards of twelve hundred per annum--sank upon his
heart with a feeling which filled it with a deep and almost blasphemous
resentment at every person concerned, which he could scarcely repress
from the observation of his guide.

"What is your name?" said he abruptly to him; and as he asked the
question he fixed a glance upon him that startled his companion.

The latter looked at him, and felt surprised at the fearful expression
of his eye; in the meantime, we must say, that he had not an ounce of
coward's flesh on his bones.

"What is my name, sir?" he replied. "Faith, afther that look, if you
don't know my name, I do yours; there was your mother's eye fastened on
me to the life. However, take it easy, sir; devil a bit I'm afeared. If
you're not her son, Misther Woodward, why, I'm not Barney Casey, that's
all. Don't deny it, sir; you're welcome home, and I'm glad to see you,
as they all will be."

"Harkee, then," said Woodward, "you are right; but, mark me, keep quiet,
and allow me to manage matters in my own way; not a syllable of the
discovery you have made, or it will be worse for you. I am not a person
to be trifled with."

"Troth, and you're right there, sir; it's what I often said, often say,
and often will say of myself. Barney Casey is not the boy to be trifled
wid."

On a