ay, and what 's more, I spent it at home
among my own people, like a gentleman! and if I 'm an absentee it 's
not my fault. I suppose he couldn't arrest me," said he, after a pause;
"but, God knows, they 're making new laws every day, and it 's hard to
say if they 'll let a man have peace or ease in any quarter of the world
before long. Well, well! there's no use guessing. I have nothing to sell
nothing to lose; I suppose they don't make it a hanging matter even
for an Irishman to live a trifle too fast." And with this piece of
reassuring comfort, he pulled up his cravat, threw back the breast of
his coat, and prepared to confront the enemy bravely.

Although Dalton made some noise in unlocking the door, and not less in
crossing the little passage that led to the sitting-room, his entrance
was unperceived by the stranger, who was busily engaged in examining a
half-finished group by Nelly. It represented an old soldier, whose
eyes were covered by a bandage, seated beside a well, while a little
drummer-boy read to him the bulletin of a great victory. She had
destined the work for a present to Frank, and had put forth all her
genius in its composition. The glowing enthusiasm of the blind veteran,
his half-opened lips,' his attitude of eagerness as he drank in the
words, were finely contrasted with the childlike simplicity of the boy,
more intent, as it seemed, in spelling out the lines than following the
signification.

If the stranger was not a finished connoisseur, he was certainly not
ignorant of art, and was deep in its contemplation when Dalton accosted
him.

"I beg pardon, Mr. Dalton, I presume; really this clever composition
has made me forget myself totally. May I ask, is it the work of a native
artist?"

"It was done in this place, sir," replied Dalton, whose pride in his
daughter's skill was overlaid by a less worthy feeling, shame that a
Dalton should condescend to such an occupation.

"I have seen very inferior productions highly prized and praised; and if
I am not indiscreet--"

"To prevent any risk of that kind," observed Dalton, interrupting him,
"I 'll take the liberty of asking your name, and the object of this
visit."

"Prichard, sir; of the firm of Prichard and Harding, solicitors,
Lincoln's Inn Fields," replied the other, whose voice and manner at once
assumed a business-like tone.

"I never heard the names before," said Dalton, motioning to a chair. The
stranger seated himself, and, placing