e, and seek a fulfilment of his contract. I need not
tell you, Mr. Linton, what must ensue on such a demand; it would be
hard to say whether acceptance or refusal would be worse. In a word,
the father-in-law is a man of such a character, there is only one thing
would be more ruinous than his enmity, and that is, any alliance with
him. Let him but arrive in this country, and every gentleman of station
and class will fall back from Cashel's intimacy; and even those--I 'll
not mention names," said he, smiling--"who could gloss over some of
their prejudices with gold-leaf, will soon discover that a shrewder eye
than Cashel's will be on them, and that all attempts to profit by his
easiness of temper and reckless nature will be met by one who has never
yet been foiled in a game of artifice and deceit."

"Then I perceive we have a very short tether," said Linton, gravely;
"when may this worthy gentleman be-looked for?"

"At any moment. I believe early in spring, however, will be the time."

"Well, that gives us a few months; during which I must contrive to get
in for this borough of Derraheeny--But hark! is that a carriage at
the door?--yes, by Jove! the Kennyfecks. I remember, he had asked them
to-day to come and see his pictures. I say, Hoare, step out by the
back way; we must not be caught together here. I 'll make my escape
afterwards."

Already the thundering knock of the footman resounded through lie house,
and Hoare, not losing a moment, left the library, and hastened through
the garden at the rear of the house; while Linton, seizing some writing
materials, hurried upstairs, and established himself in a small boudoir
off one of the drawing-rooms, carefully letting down the Venetians as he
entered, and leaving the chamber but half lighted; this done, he drew a
screen in front of him, and waited patiently.

CHAPTER XXII. VISIT TO THE "CASHEL PICTURE GALLERY."

Ignored the schools of France and Spain,
And of the Netherlands not surer,
He knew not Cuyp from Claude Lorraine,
Nor Dow from Albert Durer.

Bell: Images.

Scarcely had the Kennyfecks' carriage driven from the door when the
stately equipage of the MacFarlines drew up, which was soon after
followed by the very small pony phaeton of Mrs. Leicester White,
that lady herself driving, and having for her companion a large
high-shouldered, spectacled gentleman, whose glances, at once inquiring
and critical, pronounced him as one of