his gloved
hand, he got up on his well-groomed nag with more spirit than he had
hitherto felt.

Nothing could be better than the manner in which, at this time,
the servants about Castle Richmond conducted themselves. Most of
them--indeed, all but three--had been told that they must go; and in
so telling them, the truth had been explained. It had been "found,"
Aunt Letty said to one of the elder among them, that Mr. Herbert was
not the heir to the property, and therefore the family was obliged
to go away. Mrs. Jones of course accompanied her mistress. Richard
had been told, both by Herbert and by Aunt Letty, that he had better
remain and live on a small patch of land that should be provided
for him. But in answer to this he stated his intention of removing
himself to London. If the London air was fit for "my leddy and Miss
Letty," it would be fit for him. "It's no good any more talking, Mr.
Herbert," said Richard, "I main to go." So there was no more talking,
and he did go.

But all the other servants took their month's warning with tears and
blessings, and strove one beyond another how they might best serve
the ladies of the family to the end. "I'd lose the little fingers
off me to go with you, Miss Emmeline; so I would," said one poor
girl,--all in vain. If they could not keep a retinue of servants in
Ireland, it was clear enough that they could not keep them in London.

The groom who held the horse for Herbert to mount, touched his hat
respectfully as his young master rode off slowly down the avenue, and
then went back to the stables to meditate with awe on the changes
which had happened in his time, and to bethink himself whether or no
he could bring himself to serve in the stables of Owen the usurper.

Herbert did not take the direct road to Desmond Court, but went round
as though he were going to Gortnaclough, and then turning away from
the Gortnaclough road, made his way by a cross lane towards Clady
and the mountains. He hardly knew himself whether he had any object
in this beyond one which he did not express even to himself,--that,
namely, of not being seen on the way leading to Desmond Court. But
this he did do, thereby riding out of the district with which he was
most thoroughly acquainted, and passing by cabins and patches of
now deserted land which were strange to him. It was a poor, bleak,
damp, undrained country, lying beyond the confines of his father's
property, which in good days had never been ple