ike prussic acid, and you'll beat him at
his own game. Those are all externals, my dear fellow. When a man knows
he has nothing within his head to trust to,--when he has neither sense
nor genius, he puts on a wig, ties up his neck in a white choker, sits
in a big chair, and frightens the world with his silence. Remember, if
you were not a baby, he would not be a bugbear."

"And should I not ask to see Fanny?"

"By all means. Don't leave Grey Abbey without seeing and making your
peace with Miss Wyndham. That'll be easy with you, because it's your
_metier_. I own that with myself it would be the most difficult part of
the morning's work. But don't ask to see her as a favour. When you've
done with the lord (and don't let your conference be very long)--when
you've done with the lord, tell him you'll say a word to the lady; and,
whatever may have been his pre-determination, you'll find that, if
you're cool, he'll be bothered, and he won't know how to refuse; and if
he doesn't prevent you, I'm sure Miss Wyndham won't."

"And if he asks about these wretched horses of mine?"

"Don't let him talk more about your affairs than you can help; but, if
he presses you--and he won't if you play your game well--tell him that
you're quite aware your income won't allow you to keep up an
establishment at the Curragh after you're married."

"But about Brien Boru, and the Derby?"

"Brien Boru! You might as well talk to him about your washing-bills!
Don't go into particulars--stick to generals. He'll never ask you those
questions unless he sees you shiver and shake like a half-whipped
school-boy."

After a great deal of confabulation, in which Dot Blake often repeated
his opinion of Lord Ballindine's folly in not rejoicing at an
opportunity of breaking off the match, it was determined that Frank
should ride over the next morning, and do exactly what his friend
proposed. If, however, one might judge from his apparent dread of the
interview with Lord Cashel, there was but little chance of his
conducting it with the coolness or assurance insisted on by Dot. The
probability was, that when the time did come, he would, as Blake said,
shiver and shake like a half-whipped school-boy.

"And what will you do when you're married, Frank?" said Blake; "for I'm
beginning to think the symptoms are strong, and you'll hardly get out
of it now."

"Do! why, I suppose I'll do much the same as others--have two children,
and live happy ever afterwards."