t quite so sweet an aspect. Mr.
Die had repeated to him, perhaps once too often, a very well-known
motto of his; one by the aid of which he professed to have steered
himself safely through the shoals of life--himself and perhaps some
others. It was a motto which he would have loved to see inscribed
over the great gates of the noble inn to which he belonged; and
which, indeed, a few years since might have been inscribed there
with much justice. "Festina lente," Mr. Die would say to all those
who came to him in any sort of hurry. And then when men accused him
of being dilatory by premeditation, he would say no, he had always
recommended despatch. "Festina," he would say; "festina" by all
means; but "festina lente." The doctrine had at any rate thriven with
the teacher, for Mr. Die had amassed a large fortune.

Herbert at once saw that Mr. Prendergast was a little fluttered.
Judging from what he had seen of the lawyer in Ireland, he would have
said that it was impossible to flutter Mr. Prendergast; but in truth
greatness is great only till it encounters greater greatness. Mars
and Apollo are terrible and magnificent gods till one is enabled to
see them seated at the foot of Jove's great throne. That Apollo, Mr.
Prendergast, though greatly in favour with the old Chancery Jupiter,
had now been reminded that he had also on this occasion driven
his team too fast, and been nearly as indiscreet in his own rash
offering.

"We are very sorry to keep you waiting here, Mr. Fitzgerald," said
Mr. Die, giving his hand to the young man without, however, rising
from his chair; "especially sorry, seeing that it is your first day
in harness. But your friend Mr. Prendergast thinks it as well that we
should talk over together a piece of business which does not seem as
yet to be quite settled."

Herbert of course declared that he had been in no hurry to go away;
he was, he said, quite ready to talk over anything; but to his mind
at that moment nothing occurred more momentous than the nature of the
agreement between himself and Mr. Die. There was an honorarium which
it was presumed Mr. Die would expect, and which Herbert Fitzgerald
had ready for the occasion.

"I hardly know how to describe what has taken place this morning
since I saw you," said Mr. Prendergast, whose features told plainly
that something more important than the honorarium was now on the
tapis.

"What has taken place?" said Herbert, whose mind now flew off to
Castle Ri