mara, how he looked when he got up out
of the green puddle to-day?'

"'Mr Burke,' said she, 'that was an accident that might happen any man.
You were thrown yourself this day week, on clearing Jack Falvey's
wall--so you need not reflect on Mr Brady.'

"'If I was,' said I, 'it was as fine a leap as ever was made; and I was
on my mare in half a shake afterwards. Bob Buller of Ballythomas, or
Jack Prendergast, or Fergus O'Connor, could not have it rode it better.
And you too'----

"'Well,' said she, 'I am not going to dispute with you. I am sleepy, and
must get to bed.'

"'Do, poor chicken,' said Mrs Macnamara, soothingly, 'and, Bob, my dear,
I wish it was in your power to go travel, and see the Booleries and the
Tooleyvards, and the rest, and then you might be, in course of time, as
genteel as Ensign Brady.'

"'Heigho!' said Miss Dosy, ejecting a sigh. 'Travel, Bob, travel.'

"'I will,' said I, at once, and left the house in the most abrupt
manner, after consigning Ensign Brady to the particular attention of
Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megaera, all compressed into one emphatic
monosyllable.

CHAPTER IV.

HOW BOB BURKE, AFTER AN INTERVIEW WITH BARNEY PULVERTAFT,
ASCERTAINED THAT HE WAS DESPERATELY IN LOVE
WITH MISS THEODOSIA MACNAMARA.

"On leaving Dosy's lodgings, I began to consult the state of my heart.
Am I really, said I, so much in love, as to lose my temper if this
prating ensign should carry off the lady? I was much puzzled to resolve
the question. I walked up and down the Spa-Walk, whiffing a cigar, for
a quarter of an hour, without being able to come to a decision. At last,
just as the cigar was out, my eye caught a light in the window of Barney
Pulvertaft, the attorney--old Six-and-Eightpence, as we used to call
him. I knew he was the confidential agent of the Macnamaras; and as he
had carried on sixteen lawsuits for my father, I thought I had a claim
to learn something about the affairs of Miss Dosy. I understood she was
an heiress, but had never, until now, thought of inquiring into the
precise amount of her expectancies. Seeing that the old fellow was up,
I determined to step over, and found him in the middle of law-papers,
although it was then rather late, with a pot-bellied jug, of the
bee-hive pattern, by his side, full of punch--or rather, I should say,
half-full; for Six-and-Eightpence had not been idle. His snuff-coloured
wig was cocked on one side of his head--his old velveteen breeches ope