it was the room you had somewhere in a hayloft, eh?"

"Nothing of the kind, sir. Your memory is all astray. My chamber was
small,--for the cottage had not much accommodation,--but I was well and
suitably lodged."

"Well, what was it they did?" muttered he to himself. "I know it was
something that made you cry the whole night after you came home."

"Father, father! these are unprofitable memories," said Dunn, sternly.
"Were one to treasure up the score of all the petty slights he may have
received in life, so that in some day of power he might acquit the debt,
success would be anything but desirable."

"I'm not so sure of that, Davy. I never forgot an injury."

"I am more charitable, sir," said Dunn, calmly.

"No, you 're not, Davy,--no, you 're not," replied the old man, eagerly,
"but you think it's wiser to be never-minding; and so it would, boy, if
the man that injured you was to forget it too. Ay, Davy, that's the rub.
But _he_ won't; he 'll remember to his dying day that there's a score
between you."

"I tell you, father, that these maxims do not apply to persons of
condition, all whose instincts and modes of thought are unlike those of
the inferior classes."

"They are men and women, Davy,--they are men and women."

Dunn arose impatiently, observing that the night was growing chilly, and
it were better to return to the house.

"I mean to sup with you," said he, gayly, "if you have anything to give
me."

"A rasher and eggs, and a bladebone of cold mutton is all I have,"
muttered the old man, gloomily. "I would not let them buy a chicken
this week, when I saw the shares falling. Give me your arm, Davy, I've
a slight weakness in the knees; it always took me at this season since
I was a boy." And mumbling how strange it was that one did not throw off
childish ailments as one grew older, he crept slowly along towards the
house.

As they entered the kitchen, Dunn remarked with astonishment how little
there remained of the abundance and plenty which had so characterized it
of old. No hams, no flitches hung from the rafters; no sturdy barrels of
butter stood against the walls; the chicken-coop was empty; and even
to the good fire that graced the hearth there was a change, for a few
half-sodden turf-sods were all that lingered in the place. Several
baskets and hampers, carefully corded and sealed, were ranged beside the
dresser, in which Dunn recognized presents of wine, choice cordials and
liqueurs, that he