nd greatly to his own advantage; and, although he had fully made up
his mind to carry it out if possible, he wanted, in conducting it, a
little of his brother's legal advice, and, above all, his landlord's
sanction.
This business was nothing less than an intended elopement with an
heiress belonging to a rank somewhat higher than that in which Martin
Kelly might be supposed to look, with propriety, for his bride; but
Martin was a handsome fellow, not much burdened with natural modesty,
and he had, as he supposed, managed to engage the affections of
Anastasia Lynch, a lady resident near Dunmore.
All particulars respecting Martin's intended--the amount of her
fortune--her birth and parentage--her age and attractions--shall,
in due time, be made known; or rather, perhaps, be suffered to make
themselves known. In the mean time we will return to the two brothers,
who are still anxiously waiting to effect an entrance into the august
presence of the Law.
Martin had already told his brother of his matrimonial speculations,
and had received certain hints from that learned youth as to the proper
means of getting correct information as to the amount of the lady's
wealth,--her power to dispose of it by her own deed,--and certain other
particulars always interesting to gentlemen who seek money and love at
the same time. John did not quite approve of the plan; there might have
been a shade of envy at his brother's good fortune; there might be
some doubt as to his brother's power of carrying the affair through
successfully; but, though he had not encouraged him, he gave him the
information he wanted, and was as willing to talk over the matter as
Martin could desire.
As they were standing in the crowd, their conversation ran partly on
Repeal and O'Connell, and partly on matrimony and Anty Lynch, as the
lady was usually called by those who knew her best.
"Tear and 'ouns Misther Lord Chief Justice!" exclaimed Martin, "and are
ye niver going to opin them big doors?"
"And what'd be the good of his opening them yet," answered John, "when
a bigger man than himself an't there? Dan and the other boys isn't in
it yet, and sure all the twelve judges couldn't get on a peg without
them."
"Well, Dan, my darling!" said the other, "you're thought more of here
this day than the lot of 'em, though the place in a manner belongs to
them, and you're only a prisoner."
"Faix and that's what he's not, Martin; no more than yourself, nor so
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