one; my wife so fond of me,
that she is even now thinking of appointing a successor? (I don't mean
you precisely, Mr. Barry; you are only taking your chance with a score
of others whom I could mention.) Isn't it a comfort to see her, like
a prudent housewife, getting everything ready for her husband's
departure?'

'I hope you are not thinking of leaving us soon, knight?' said I, with
perfect sincerity; for I liked him, as a most amusing companion. 'Not
so soon, my dear, as you may fancy, perhaps,' continued he. 'Why, man,
I have been given over any time these four years; and there was always a
candidate or two waiting to apply for the situation. Who knows how long
I may keep you waiting?' and he DID keep me waiting some little time
longer than at that period there was any reason to suspect.

As I declared myself pretty openly, according to my usual way, and
authors are accustomed to describe the persons of the ladies with whom
their heroes fall in love; in compliance with this fashion, I perhaps
should say a word or two respecting the charms of my Lady Lyndon. But
though I celebrated them in many copies of verses, of my own and other
persons' writing; and though I filled reams of paper in the passionate
style of those days with compliments to every one of her beauties and
smiles, in which I compared her to every flower, goddess, or famous
heroine ever heard of,--truth compels me to say that there was nothing
divine about her at all. She was very well; but no more. Her shape was
fine, her hair dark, her eyes good, and exceedingly active; she loved
singing, but performed it as so great a lady should, very much out of
tune. She had a smattering of half-a-dozen modern languages, and, as I
have said before, of many more sciences than I even knew the names of.
She piqued herself on knowing Greek and Latin; but the truth is, that
Mr. Runt, used to supply her with the quotations which she introduced
into her voluminous correspondence. She had as much love of admiration,
as strong, uneasy a vanity, and as little heart, as any woman I ever
knew. Otherwise, when her son, Lord Bullingdon, on account of his
differences with me, ran--but that matter shall be told in its proper
time. Finally, my Lady Lyndon was about a year older than myself;
though, of course, she would take her Bible oath that she was three
years younger.

Few men are so honest as I am; for few will own to their real motives,
and I don't care a button about confe