ome; but his
brother-in-law, and his niece, and the boys--they would all, he was
certain, avail themselves of such a neighbourhood.

Sir Archibald bowed low, and somewhat stiffly perhaps, in accordance
with a pledge thus given without his concurrence; but Herbert's bright
eyes grew brighter, and his cheek flushed with delight at the bare
anticipation of the thought.

"And you, Miss O'Donoghue," said Sir Marmaduke, turning towards Kate.
"Our humble library at the lodge, is perfectly at your service, the only
condition we ask is, that you come and choose from it in person."

"That promise is already most kindly made, father," interrupted Sybella,
whose pleased look showed how she had been captivated by her new friend.

While their smiles and gracious words went round, the door was suddenly
opened by Kerry O'Leary, who, forgetful of the visitors, in _his_ eager
anxiety as the bearer of news, cried out--

[Illustration: 221]

"There's a shindy, master dear! Such a row! May I never die in sin, if
ever I seen the equal of it!"

"What does he mean?--is the fellow mad?" cried the O'Donoghue, angrily,
while Sir Archy, bending on him a most ominous frown, muttered--

"Have ye lost a' decency tegether. Ye daft loon, what ails ye?"

"I ax your pardon, and the qualities pardon," said Kerry, with an
expression of abject misery for his unceremonious 'entree.' "But, if you
seen it, sorra bit but you'd forgive me."

"There has been good fun somewhere, I'm certain," cried out Frederick
Travers, whose curiosity to learn Kerry's intelligence could no longer
be repressed.

"What is it, then, Kerry?" said the O'Donoghue. "Let us hear it all."

"'Tis Master Mark, good luck to him," cried Kerry, overjoyed at the
permission to speak out freely. "He was over at Ballyvourney with
the greyhounds, when he seen that dirty spalpeen, Sam Wylie, wid a
process-sarver along wid him, noticin' the tenants. The server was a
stranger, and he didn't touch him; but he made the boys put Sam on Nick
Malone's mule, and give him a fair start, and they run him down the
mountain, with a fine view, and ran into him there at the horse-pond,
where the mule flung him head over heels; and begorra, you wouldn't
know 'twas a Christian, if you seen him this minit dripping wet, and the
duck-weed all hanging round him--and he's running still--for he thinks
Master Mark will take the life of him before he stops."

A roar of laughter from Frederic, joined in by He