neither an
impostor nor a cheat; and that if ever a man was true friend and
faithful to man, I am that friend to your lordship; not, God knows,
because you are a lord, but because you are a far better thing--a
regular trump. A cheat! curse it," clapping his hands over his eyes, to
conceal his emotion, "isn't my name Norton? and am I not your friend?"

At this moment a servant came in, and handed Lord Dunroe a note, which
he was about to throw to Norton, who generally acted as a kind of
secretary to him; but observing the depth and sincerity and also the
modesty of his feelings, he thought it indelicate to trouble him with it
just then. Breakfast was now over, and Dunroe, throwing himself back
in an arm-chair, opened the letter--read it--then another that was
contained in it; after which he rose up, and travelled the room with a
good deal of excitement. He then approached Norton, and said, in a voice
that might be said to have been made up of heat and cold, "What disturbs
you?"

Norton winked both eyes, did the pathetic a bit, then pulled out his
pocket handkerchief, and blew his nose up to a point little short of
distress itself. In the meantime, Dunroe suddenly left the room without
Norton's knowledge, who replied, however, to the last question, under
the impression that his lordship was present,

"Ah, my dear Dunroe, the loss of a true friend is a serious thing in a
world like this, where so many cheats and impostors are going."

To this, however, he received no reply; and on looking round and finding
that his dupe had gone out, he said:

"Curse the fellow--he has cut me short. I was acting friendship to the
life, and now he has disappeared. However, I will resume it when I hear
his foot on the return. His hat is there, and I know he will come back
for it."

Nearly ten minutes had elapsed, during which he was making the ham and
chicken disappear, when, on hearing a foot which he took for granted
must be that of his lordship, he once more threw himself into his former
attitude, and putting the handkerchief again to his eyes, exclaimed:

"No, my lord. A cheat! Curse it, isn't my name Norton? and am I not your
friend?"

"Why, upon my soul, Barney, you used of ould to bring out only one lie
at a time but now you give them in pairs. 'Isn't my name Norton?' says
you. I kept the saicret bekaise you never meddled with Lord Cullamore
or Lady Emily, or attempted your tricks on them, and for that raison you
ought to t