ms--for the Bermingham manufactory in that line was
extensive.

While the reverend gentleman was taking his seat, spreading his napkin
and addressing a word to each round the table, Furlong turned to Fanny
Dawson, beside whom he was sitting (and who, by-the-bye, could not
resist a fit of laughter on the occasion), and said with a bewildered
look--

"Did he not addwess _Madame_ as Mistwess Egan?"

"Yeth," said Fanny, with admirable readiness; "but whithper." And as
Furlong inclined his head towards her, she whispered in his ear, "You
muthn't mind him--he's mad, poor man!--that is, a _little_ inthane--and
thinks every lady is Mrs. Egan. An unhappy pathion, poor fellow!--but
_quite harmleth_."

Furlong uttered a very prolonged "Oh!" at Fanny's answer to his inquiry,
and looked sharply round the table, for there was an indefinable
something in the conduct of every one at the moment of Mr. Bermingham's
entrance that attracted his attention, and the name "Egan," and
everybody's _fidgetiness_ (which is the only word I can apply), roused
his suspicion. Fanny's answer only half satisfied him; and looking at
Mrs. Egan, who could not conquer her confusion, he remarked "How _vewy_
wed Mistwess O'Gwady gwew!"

"Oh! thee can't help bluthing, poor soul! when he thays 'Egan' to her,
and thinks her his _furth_ love."

"How _vewy_ widiculous to be sure," said Furlong.

"Haven't you innothent mad people thumtimes in England?" said Fanny.

"Oh _vewy_" said Furlong, "but this appea's to me so wema'kably
stwange an abbewation."

"Oh," returned Fanny, with quickness, "I thuppose people go mad on
their ruling pathion, and the ruling pathion of the Irish, you know,
is love."

The conversation all this time was going on in other quarters, and
Furlong heard Mr. Bermingham talking of his having preached last Sunday
in his new church.

"Suwely," said he to Fanny, "they would not pe'mit an insane gle'gyman
to pweach?"

"Oh," said Fanny, almost suffocating with laughter, "he only
_thinkth_ he's a clergyman."

"How vewy dwoll you are!" said Furlong.

"Now you're only quithing me," said Fanny, looking with affected
innocence in the face of the unfortunate young gentleman she had been
quizzing most unmercifully the whole day.

"Oh, Miste' O'Gwady," said Furlong, "we saw them going to dwown a man
to-day."

"Indeed!" said the Squire, reddening, as he saw Mr. Bermingham stare at
his being called O'Grady; so, to cover the blot, and st