said she, for her temper knew no bounds
when she saw the enemy silenced. "'T is little harm that would have
done, if ye did n't take to screaming about it; as if any man could bear
that! You drove him away, my dear, just the way your own mother did poor
Major Cohlhayne,--with hard crying,--till he said, 'he 'd as soon go to
a wake as take tay in the house.' And sure enough, she had to take up
with your poor father, after! Just so. I never knew luck come of signals
and signs. When the good thing 's before you, help yourself. My poor
father used to say, 'Don't pass "the spirits" because there 's claret at
the head of the table; who knows if it 'll ever come down to you?' And
there you are, now! and glad enough you 'd be to take that curate I saw
in Dublin, with the smooth face, this minute. I don't blame you as much
as your poor foolish mother; she has you as she reared you. Bad luck to
you for a plant!" cried she, as the ingenious creeper insinuated itself
among the meshes of her Limerick lace collar. "Cary, just take this out
for me;" but Cary was gone, and her sister with her. Nor did Aunt Fanny
know how long her eloquence had been purely soliloquy.

She looked around her for a moment at the deserted battle-field, and
then slowly retired.

CHAPTER XVII. THE SHADOW IN THE MIRROR

"No" is the feminine of "Yes!"

Hungarian Proverb.

Bad as the weather is,--and certainly even in Ireland a more drenching,
driving-down, pouring rain never fell,--we must ask of our readers to
follow Cashel, who at a slapping gallop rode on, over grass and tillage,
now careering lightly over the smooth sward, now sweltering along
heavily through deep ground, regardless of the pelting storm, and
scarcely noticing the strong fences which at every instant tried the
stride and strength of his noble horse.

If his speed was headlong, his seat was easy, and his hand as steady
as if lounging along some public promenade; his features, however,
were flushed, partly from the beating rain, but more from a feverish
excitement that showed itself in his flashing eye and closely compressed
lip. More than once, in crossing a difficult leap, his horse nearly
fell, and although half on the ground, and only recovering by a
scramble, he seemed not to heed the accident. At last he arrived at the
tall oak paling which fenced the grounds of the cottage, and where
it was his wont to halt and fasten his horse. Now, however, he rode
fiercely at