profitably was a part that required rather more playing
than any other.

"Well, your honour's ladyship," he began, with a glance at the hotel
ostler, who was standing near cleaning a bit in industrious and
sarcastic silence, "it is a fact, no doubt, that I mentioned here this
morning that this young mare was of the Government hackney stock. But,
according as I understand from this poor man that owns her, he bought
her in a small fair over the Tuam side, and the man that sold her could
take his oath she was by the Grey Dawn--sure you'd know it out of her
colour."

"Why didn't you say so before?" asked Miss Fitzroy, bending her straight
brows in righteous severity.

"Well, that's true indeed, your ladyship; but, after all--I declare a
man couldn't hardly live without he'd tell a lie sometimes!"

Fanny Fitz stooped, rather hurriedly, and entered upon a renewed
examination of the filly's legs. Even Rupert Gunning, after his brief
and unsympathetic survey, had said she had good legs; in fact, he had
only been able to crab her for the length of her back, and he, as Fanny
Fitz reflected with a heat that took no heed of metaphor, was the
greatest crabber that ever croaked.

"What are you asking for her?" she demanded with a sudden access of
decision.

There was a pause. The owner of the filly and his friend withdrew a step
or two and conferred together in Irish at lightning speed. The filly
held up her head and regarded her surroundings with guileless
wonderment. Fanny Fitz made a mental dive into her bankbook, and arrived
at the varied conclusions that she was L30 to the good, that on that sum
she had to weather out the summer and autumn, besides pacifying various
cormorants (thus she designated her long-suffering tradespeople), and
that every one had told her that if she only kept her eyes open in
Connemara she might be able to buy something cheap and make a pot of
money on it.

"This poor honest man," said the friend, returning to the charge, "says
he couldn't part her without he'd get twenty-eight pounds for her; and,
thank God, it's little your ladyship would think of giving that!"

Fanny Fitz's face fell.

"Twenty-eight pounds!" she echoed. "Oh, that's ridiculous!"

The friend turned to the owner, and, with a majestic wave of the hand,
signalled to him to retire. The owner, without a change of expression,
coiled up the rope halter and started slowly and implacably for the
gate; the friend took off his hat wit