st hands ever you see,
her niece's, Miss Grace Nugent's, and she a little child that time;
sweet love! all gone!'

The old woman wiped a tear from her eye, and Lord Colambre did what he
could to appear indifferent. She set down the candle, and left the room;
Lord Colambre went to bed, but he lay awake, 'revolving sweet and bitter
thoughts.'

CHAPTER XI

The kettle was on the fire, tea-things set, everything prepared for her
guest by the hospitable hostess, who, thinking the gentleman would
take tea to his breakfast, had sent off a GOSSOON by the FIRST LIGHT to
Clonbrony, for an ounce of tea, a QUARTER OF SUGAR, and a loaf of white
bread; and there was on the little table good cream, milk, butter,
eggs--all the promise of an excellent breakfast. It was a FRESH morning,
and there was a pleasant fire on the hearth, neatly swept up. The old
woman was sitting in her chimney corner, behind a little skreen of
whitewashed wall, built out into the room, for the purpose of keeping
those who sat at the fire from the BLAST OF THE DOOR. There was a
loophole in this wall, to let the light in, just at the height of a
person's head, who was sitting near the chimney. The rays of the morning
sun now came through it, shining across the face of the old woman,
as she sat knitting; Lord Colambre thought he had seldom seen a more
agreeable countenance, intelligent eyes, benevolent smile, a natural
expression of cheerfulness, subdued by age and misfortune.

'A good-morrow to you kindly, sir, and I hope you got the night well?--A
fine day for us this Sunday morning; my Grace is gone to early prayers,
so your honour will be content with an old woman to make your breakfast.
Oh, let me put in plenty, or it will never be good; and if your honour
takes stir-about, an old hand will engage to make that to your liking,
anyway; for, by great happiness, we have what will just answer for you
of the nicest meal the miller made my Grace a compliment of, last time
she went to the mill.'

Lord Colambre observed, that this miller had good taste; and his
lordship paid some compliment to Grace's beauty, which the old woman
received with a smile, but turned off the conversation. 'Then,' said
she, looking out of the window, 'is not that there a nice little garden
the boy dug for her and me, at his breakfast and dinner hours? Ah! he's
a good boy, and a good warrant to work; and the good son DESARVES the
good wife, and it's he that will make the good husba