continued Tiernay, "may count it among her triumphs
to have attracted one whom all the world regards as an adventurer; a man
living by the exercise of his clever wits, profiting by the weaknesses
and follies of his acquaintances, and deriving his subsistence from the
vices he knows how to pamper."

"And what answer has he received?" asked Cashel, timidly.

"None, as yet. Poor Corrigan, overwhelmed by misfortune, threatened by
one whose menace, if enforced, would be his death-stroke, has begged for
a day or two to consider; but the reply is certain."

"And will be--" Cashel could not command his emotion as he spoke.

"Refusal."

"You are certain of this, Tiernay? You are positive of what you say?"

"I know it. My old friend, were, he even inclined to this alliance,
could never coerce her; and Mary Leicester has long since learned to
distinguish between the agreeable qualities of a clever man and the
artful devices of a treacherous one. She knows him; she reads him
thoroughly, and as thoroughly she despises him. I will not say that her
impressions have been unaided; she received more than one letter from
a kind friend--Lady Kilgoff; and these were her first warnings. Poor
Corrigan knows nothing of this; and Mary, seeing how Linton's society
was pleasurable to the old man, actually shrank from the task of
undeceiving him. 'He has so few pleasures,' said she to me one evening;
'why deny him this one?'--'It is a poison which cannot injure in small
doses, doctor,' added she, another time; and so, half jestingly, she
reasoned, submitting to an intimacy that was odious to her, because it
added a gleam of comfort to the chill twilight of his declining life."

"And you are sure of this--you are certain she will refuse him?" cried
Cashel, eagerly.

"I am her confidant," said Tiernay; "and you see how worthily I repay
the trust! Nay, nay! I would not tell these things to any other living;
but I feel that I owe them to you. I have seen more misery in life from
concealment, from the delicacy that shuns a frank avowal, than from all
the falsehood that ever blackened a bad heart. Mary has told me all her
secrets; ay--don't blush so deeply--and some of yours also."

Cashel did indeed grow red at this speech, and, in his effort to conceal
his shame, assumed an air of dissatisfaction.

"Not so, my dear young friend," said Tiernay; "I did not mean to say one
word which could offend you. Mary has indeed trusted me with the secret