pretty nearly pushed into a corner--was
beholden, not only for his fun, but, occasionally for his daily bread
and even his liberty, to those benevolent doles.

He did not like her peremptory summons; but he could not afford to
quarrel with his bread and butter, nor to kill by undutiful behaviour
the fair, plump bird whose golden eggs were so very convenient. I don't
know whether there may not have been some slight sign in the
handwriting--in a phrase, perhaps, or in the structure of the
composition, which a clever analysis might have detected, and which only
reached him vaguely, with a foreboding that he was not to see Chapelizod
again so soon as usual when this trip was made. And, in truth, his aunt
had plans. She designed his retirement from the Royal Irish Artillery,
and had negociated an immediate berth for him on the Staff of the
Commander of the Forces, and a prospective one in the household of Lord
Townshend; she had another arrangement 'on the anvil' for a seat in
Parliament, which she would accomplish, if that were possible; and
finally a wife. In fact her ladyship had encountered old General
Chattesworth at Scarborough only the autumn before, and they had had, in
that gay resort, a good deal of serious talk (though serious talk with
the good countess never lasted very long), between their cards and other
recreations, the result of which was, that she began to think, with the
good general, that Devereux would be better where one unlucky
misadventure would not sully his reputation for life. Besides, she
thought Chapelizod was not safe ground for a young fellow so eccentric,
perverse, and impetuous, where pretty faces were plentier than good
fortunes, and at every tinkling harpsichord there smiled a possible
_mesalliance_. In the town of Chapelizod itself, indeed, the young
gentleman did not stand quite so high in estimation as with his aunt,
who thought nothing was good or high enough for her handsome nephew,
with his good blood and his fine possibilities. The village folk,
however, knew that he was confoundedly dipped; that he was sometimes
alarmingly pestered by duns, and had got so accustomed to hear that his
uncle, the earl, was in his last sickness, and his cousin, the next
heir, dead, when another week disclosed that neither one nor the other
was a bit worse than usual, that they began to think that Devereux's
turn might very possibly never come at all. Besides, the townspeople had
high notions of some of