disappearance of his brother's
heir. In consequence of these representations, Lady Emily not only
consented to act as bride's-maid; but also to keep her knowledge of the
forthcoming marriage a secret from her father.

At breakfast that morning Dunroe was uncommonly cheerful. Norton, on
the other hand, was rather depressed, and could not be prevailed upon
to partake of the gay and exuberant spirit of mirth and buoyancy which
animated Dunroe.

"What the deuce is the matter with you, Norton?" said his lordship. "You
seem rather annoyed that I am going to marry a very lovely girl with an
immense fortune? With both, you know very well that I can manage without
either the Cullamore title or property. The Gourlay property is as good
if not better. Come, then, cheer up; if the agency of the Cullamore
property is gone, we shall have that on the Gourlay side to look to."

"Dunroe, my dear fellow," replied Norton, "I am thinking of nothing so
selfish. That which distresses me is, that I will lose my friend. This
Miss Gourlay is, they say, so confoundedly virtuous that I dare say she
will allow no honest fellow, who doesn't carry a Bible and a Prayer-book
in his pocket, and quote Scripture in conversation, to associate with
you."

"Nonsense, man," replied Dunroe, "I have satisfied you on that point
before. But I say, Norton, is not this a great bite on the baronet,
especially as he considers himself a knowing one?"

"Yes, I grant you, a great bite, no doubt; but, at the same time, I
rather guess you may thank me for the possession of Miss Gourlay, and
the property which will go along with her."

"As how, Norton?"

"Why, don't you remember the anonymous note which I wrote to the
baronet, when I was over in Dublin to get the horse changed? He was then
at Red Hall. I am certain that were it not for that hint, there would
have been an elopement. You know it was the fellow who shot you, that
was then in her neighborhood, and he is at present in town. I opened the
baronet's eyes at all events."

"Faith, to tell you the truth, Norton, although I know you do me in
money matters now and then, still I believe you to be a faithful fellow.
In fact, you owe me more than you are aware of. You know not how I have
resisted the respectable old nobleman's wishes to send you adrift as
an impostor and cheat. I held firm, however, and told him I could never
with honor abandon my friend."

"Many thanks, Dunroe; but I really must say that I am