rself like,
it was hard for Sir Condy himself to know her again till she spoke;
but when she says, 'It's Judy M'Quirk, please your honour; don't you
remember her?'

'Oh, Judy, is it you?' says his honour. 'Yes, sure, I remember you very
well; but you're greatly altered, Judy.'

'Sure it's time for me,' says she. 'And I think your honour, since I
seen you last--but that's a great while ago--is altered too.'

'And with reason, Judy,' says Sir Condy, fetching a sort of a sigh. 'But
how's this, Judy?' he goes on. 'I take it a little amiss of you that you
were not at my wake last night.'

'Ah, don't be being jealous of that,' says she; 'I didn't hear a
sentence of your honour's wake till it was all over, or it would have
gone hard with me but I would have been at it, sure; but I was forced to
go ten miles up the country three days ago to a wedding of a relation of
my own's, and didn't get home till after the wake was over. But,' says
she, 'it won't be so, I hope, the next time, please your honour.'
[At the coronation of one of our monarchs the King complained of the
confusion which happened in the procession. 'The great officer who
presided told his Majesty that 'it should not be so next time.']

'That we shall see, Judy,' says his honour, 'and maybe sooner than you
think for, for I've been very unwell this while past, and don't reckon
anyway I'm long for this world.'

At this Judy takes up the corner of her apron, and puts it first to one
eye and then to t'other, being to all appearance in great trouble; and
my shister put in her word, and bid his honour have a good heart, for
she was sure it was only the gout that Sir Patrick used to have flying
about him, and he ought to drink a glass or a bottle extraordinary to
keep it out of his stomach; and he promised to take her advice, and sent
out for more spirits immediately; and Judy made a sign to me, and I went
over to the door to her, and she said, 'I wonder to see Sir Condy so
low: has he heard the news?'

'What news?' says I.

'Didn't ye hear it, then?' says she; 'my Lady Rackrent that was is kilt
[See GLOSSARY 29] and lying for dead, and I don't doubt but it's all
over with her by this time.'

'Mercy on us all,' says I; 'how was it?'

'The jaunting-car it was that ran away with her,' says Judy. 'I was
coming home that same time from Biddy M'Guggin's marriage, and a
great crowd of people too upon the road, coming from the fair of
Crookaghnawaturgh, and I sees a