meerschaum, and speculating how it was that the 'swells' took to
Joe Atlee, and what they saw in that confounded snob, instead of himself.
Having in a degree satisfied himself that Atlee's success was all owing to
his intense and outrageous flattery, he was startled from his reverie by
the servant's entrance.

'How is he this morning, Tim?' asked he, with a knowing look. 'Is he
fierce--is there anything up--have the heifers been passing the night in
the wheat, or has any one come over from Moate with a bill?'

'No, sir, none of them; but his blood's up about something. Ould Gill is
gone down the stair swearing like mad, and Miss Kate is down the road with
a face like a turkey-cock.'

'I think you'd better say I was out, Tim--that you couldn't find me in my
room.'

'I daren't, sir. He saw that little Skye terrier of yours below, and
he said to me, "Mr. Dick is sure to be at home; tell him I want him
immediately."'

'But if I had a bad headache, and couldn't leave my bed, wouldn't that be
excuse enough?'

'It would make him come here. And if I was you, sir, I'd go where I could
get away myself, and not where he could stay as long as he liked.'

'There's something in that. I'll go, Tim. Say I'll be down in a minute.'

Very careful to attire himself in the humblest costume of his wardrobe, and
specially mindful that neither studs nor watch-chain should offer offensive
matter of comment, he took his way towards the dreary little den,
which, filled with old top-boots, driving-whips, garden-implements, and
fishing-tackle, was known as 'the lord's study,' but whose sole literary
ornament was a shelf of antiquated almanacs. There was a strange grimness
about his father's aspect which struck young Kearney as he crossed the
threshold. His face wore the peculiar sardonic expression of one who had
not only hit upon an expedient, but achieved a surprise, as he held an open
letter in one hand and motioned with the other to a seat.

'I've been waiting till these people were gone, Dick--till we had a quiet
house of it--to say a few words to you. I suppose your friend Atlee is not
coming back here?'

'I suppose not, sir.'

'I don't like him, Dick; and I'm much mistaken if he is a good fellow.'

'I don't think he is actually a bad fellow, sir. He is often terribly hard
up and has to do scores of shifty things, but I never found him out in
anything dishonourable or false.'

'That's a matter of taste, perhaps. Maybe you and I