x.
'Deed, an' I ought to know it well. And the black bag; yes, that'll
be Sir Herbert's, to be sure," and so on.

Nor was this all. The name seemed to run like wildfire through all
the Buttevantians there assembled; and no sound seemed to reach our
hero's name but that of Sir Herbert, Sir Herbert. Everybody took hold
of him, and kissed his hand, and pulled his skirts, and stroked his
face. His hat was knocked off, and put on again amid thousands of
blessings. It was nearly dark, and his eyes were dazed by the coach
lanterns which were carried about, so that he could hardly see his
friends; but the one sound which was dinned into his ears was that of
Sir Herbert, Sir Herbert.

Had he thought about it when starting from Dublin early that morning
he would have said that it would have killed him to have heard
himself so greeted in the public street, but as it was he found
that he got over it very easily. Before he was well seated on his
car it may be questioned whether he was not so used to his name,
that he would have been startled to hear himself designated as Mr.
Fitzgerald. For half a minute he had been wretched, and had felt
a disgust at poor Richard which he thought at the moment would be
insuperable; but when he was on the car, and the poor fellow came
round to tuck the apron in under his feet, he could not help giving
him his hand, and fraternizing with him.

"And how is my mother, Richard?"

"'Deed then, Sir Herbert, me lady is surprising--very quiet-like; but
her leddyship was always that, and as sweet to them as comes nigh her
as flowers in May; but sure that's nathural to her leddyship."

"And, Richard--"

"Yes, Sir Herbert."

"Was Mr. Owen over at Castle Richmond since I left?"

"Sorrow a foot, Sir Herbert. Nor no one ain't heard on him, nor seen
him. And I will say this on him--"

"Don't say anything against him, Richard."

"No, surely not, seeing he is yer honour's far-away cousin, Sir
Herbert. But what I war going to say warn't agin Mr. Owen at all,
at all. For they do say that cart-ropes wouldn't have dragged him
to Castle Richmond; and that only yer honour has come back to yer
own,--and why not?--there wouldn't have been any masther in Castle
Richmond at all, at all. That's what they do say."

"There's no knowing how it will go yet, Richard."

"'Deed, an' I know how it 'll go very well, Sir Herbert, and so does
Mr. Somers, God bless him! 'Twas only this morning he tould me. An',
faix, it's