"Not many; but please to remember that even a country house has limits, and that some of the guests, at least, must have separate rooms. To be serious, Charley, I have misused the King's press d.a.m.nably; we have such a party as few have ever witnessed. There are the Kilgoffs, the Whites, the Hamiltons, along with the Clan Kennyf.e.c.k, the Ridleys, and Mathew Hannigan, Esquire, of Bally-Hanni-gan, the new Member of Parliament for Dunrone, and the last convert to the soothing doctrines of Downie Meek."

"Is Downie coming?" lisped the aide-de-camp.

"Ay, and his daughter, too. He wrote one of his velvety epistles, setting forth the prayer of his pet.i.tion in favor of 'a little girl yet only in the nursery.'"

"Yes, yes; I know all that. Well, I 'm not sorry. I like Jemmy. She is a confounded deal better than her father, and is a capital weight to put on a young horse, and a very neat hand too. Who next? Not the Dean, I hope."

"No; we divided on the Dean, and carried his exclusion by a large majority. Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k was, I believe, alone in the lobby."

"Glad of that! No one can expect an Irish visit in the country without rain, and he 's an awful fellow to be caged with, when out-o'-door work is impracticable."

"Then there are the Latrobes and the Heatherbys; in fact, the whole set, with a Polish fellow, of course a Count,--Deuroominski; a literary tourist, brought by Mrs. White, called Howie; and a small little dark man one used to see two seasons ago, that sings the melodies and tells Irish legends,--I forget the name."

"Promiscuous and varied, certainly; and what is the order of the course?

Are there to be games, rural sports, fireworks, soaped pigs, and other like intellectualities?"

"Precisely; a kind of coming-of-age thing on a grand scale. I have engaged Somerton's _chef_; he has just left his place. Gunter sends over one of his people; and Dubos, of the Cadran Bleu, is to forward two hampers per week from Paris. Hicksley is also to provide all requisites for private theatricals. In fact, nearly everything has been attended to, save the horse department; I wish you 'd take that under your protectorate; we shall want any number of screws for saddle and harness, with drags, breaks, and machines of all kinds, to drive about in. Do, pray, be master of the horse."

"Thanks; but I hate and detest trouble of all kinds. So far as selling you two of my own,--a wall-eye and a bone-spavin included,--I consent."

"Agreed. Everything in your stable carries a sidesaddle; that I know, so name your figure."

"A hundred; they 'd bring close on fifty at Dycer's any day; so I am not exorbitant, as these are election times."

"There 's the ticket, then," said Linton, taking out a check-book and filling up a leaf for the sum, which he tore out and presented to Lord Charles.

"What! has he really so far installed you as to--" "As to give blank checks," said the other, holding up the book in evidence, where "Roland Cashel" was written on a vast number of pages. "I never knew the glorious sense of generosity before, Charley. I have heard a great deal about liberal sentiments, and all that kind o' thing; but now, for the first time, do I feel the real enjoyment of indulgence. To understand this liberty aright, however, a man must have a squeeze,--such a squeeze as I have experienced myself once or twice in life; and then, my boy, as the song says,"--here, with a bold rattling air, he sang to a popular melody,--

"When of luck you 've no card up, And feel yourself 'hard up,'

And cannot imagine a method to win; When 'friends' take to shy you, And Jews to deny you, How pleasant to dip in another man's tin!

"Not seeking or craving Some pettyful saving, You draw as you like upon Drummond or Gwynne, And, while pleasure pursuing You know there 's no ruing The cost that comes out of another man's tin.

"Eh, Charley! that's the toast we 'Chevaliers Modernes' should drink before the health of the royal family."

"The royal family!" sneered Frobisher; "I never observed that loyalty was a very remarkable trait in your character."

"The greater injustice yours, then," said Linton. "I conceived a very early attachment to monarchy, on learning the importance of the king at ecarte."

"I should have thought the knave had more of your sympathy," said the other.

"Inasmuch as he follows the queen, I suppose," said Linton, good-humoredly, laughing. "But come, don't look so grave, old fellow; had I been a political _intrigant_, and devoted these goodly talents of mine to small state rogueries in committees and adjourned debates, I'd have been somebody in these dull times of aspiring mediocrity; but as my ambitions have never soared beyond the possession of what may carry on the war of life, irrespective of its graver honors, you moralists--Heaven bless the mark!--rather regard me distrustfully.

Now, let me tell you a secret, and it's one worth the knowing. There's nothing so fatal to a man's success in life as 'a little character;'

a really great one may dispense with every kind of ability and acquirement. Get your name once up in our English public, and you may talk, preach, and write the most rank nonsense with a very long impunity; but a little character, like a small swimming bladder, only buoys you up long enough to reach deep water and be drowned. To journey the road of life with this is to 'carry weight' Take my advice,--I give it in all sincerity; you are as poor a man as myself; there are thousands of luxuries you can afford yourself, but this is too costly an indulgence for a small fortune. Your 'little character' is a kind of cankering conscience, not strong enough to keep you out of wickedness, but sufficiently active to make you miserable afterwards. An everlasting suggester of small scruples, it leaves a man no time for anything but petty expedients and devices, and you hang suspended all your life between desire and denial, without the comfort of the one or the credit of the other."

"Is the sermon over?" said Lord Charles, rather affectedly than really feeling tired of the "tirade," "or are you only rehearsing the homily before you preach it to Roland Cashel?"

"Quite wrong there, my Lord," said Linton, with the same imperturbable temper. "Cashel is rich enough to afford himself any caprice, even a good name, if he like it You and I take ours as we do railway tickets, any number that's given us!" And with this speech, delivered in an air of perfect quietude, but still emphatically slow, he settled his hat on before the gla.s.s, arranged his whiskers, and walked away.

Lord Charles, for a second, seemed disposed to make an angry reply, but, correcting the impulse, he walked to the window in silence. "I have half a mind to spoil your game, my worthy friend," muttered he, as the other pa.s.sed across the court-yard; "one word to Cashel would do it To be sure it is exploding the mine with one's own hand to the fusee; that's to be thought of." And, so saying, he lay down on the sofa to ruminate.

CHAPTER XV. AT THE GAMING TABLE.

"Not half so skilled in means and ways, The 'hungry Greek' of cla.s.sic days His cards with far less cunning plays Than eke our modern sharper!"

When Linton had determined within himself to make Cashel "his own," his first care was to withdraw him from the daily society of the Kennyf.e.c.ks, by whose familiar intercourse a great share of influence was already enjoyed over their young guest. This was not so easy a task as he had at first imagined. Cashel had tasted of the pleasant fascination of easy intimacy with two young and pretty girls, eagerly bent on being agreeable to him. He was in all the full enjoyment of that rare union, the pleasure of being at home and yet an honored guest; and it was only when Linton suggested that late hours and irregular habits were but little in accordance with the decorous propriety of a family, that Cashel yielded, and consented to remove his residence to a great furnished house in "Stephen's Green," where some bygone Chancellor once held his state.

Linton well knew that if "Necessity" be the mother of invention, "Propinquity" is the father of love; that there is nothing so suggestive of the tender pa.s.sion as that lackadaisical state to which lounging at home contributes, and the chance meetings with a pretty girl. The little intercourse on the stairs going down to breakfast, the dalliance in the conservatory, the chit-chat before dinner, are far more formidable than all the formal meetings under the blaze of wax-lights, and amid the crush of white satin.

"If I leave him much longer among them," said he to himself, "he 'll marry one of these girls; and then adieu to all influence over him!

No more ecarte,--no more indiscriminate purchases of everything I propose,--no more giving 'the odds against the field.' A wife and a wife's family are heavy recognizances against a bachelor friend's counsels."

Cashel was really sorry to leave the house where his time had pa.s.sed so pleasantly. The very alternation of his interest regarding the two sisters had kept his mind in a state of pleasant incert.i.tude, now seeing something to prefer in this, now in that, while at the same time suggesting on their part greater efforts to please and amuse him. If Mr.

Kennyf.e.c.k deemed Cashel's removal a very natural step, and one which his position in some sort demanded, not so his wife. She inveighed powerfully against the dangerous intimacy of Linton, and the ruinous consequences such an ascendancy would lead to. "You should tell Mr.

Cashel who this man is," said she, imperiously.

"But that is exactly what n.o.body knows," meekly responded Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k.

"Pshaw! every one knows all about him. You can tell him how he ruined young Rushbrook, and in less than two years left him without a shilling."

Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k shook his head, as though to say that the evidence was by no means conclusive on that count.

"Yes, you may affect not to believe it," said she, angrily, "but did n't George Lawson see the check for eight thousand paid to Linton at La touche's bank, and that was one evening's work."

"There was a great deal of high play, I 've heard, among them."

"Oh, indeed! you've heard that much," said she, scornfully; "probably, too, you've heard how Linton paid seventy thousand pounds for part of the Dangwood estate,--he that had not sixpence three months previous. I tell you, Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k, that you have labored to very little purpose to establish this young man's claim if you are to stand by and see his property portioned among sharpers. There! don't start and look so frightened; there 's n.o.body listening, and if there were, too, I don't care. I tell you, Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k, that if it weren't for your foolish insufficiency Cashel would propose for Olivia. Yes! the thing is plain as possible. He fell in love with her the very night he arrived; every one saw it. Jane Lyons told me how it was remarked the day the company dined here. Leonard told all over Dublin how she chose the diamonds, and that Cashel distinctly referred to her before buying them. Then they were seen together driving through the streets. What more would you have? And now you suffer all this to be undone for the selfish objects of Mr. Linton; but I tell you, Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k, if you 're a fool, I am not!"

"But really I don't see--"

"You don't see! I'm sure you do not. You'd see, however, if it were a case for an action in the courts,--a vulgar appeal to twelve greasy jurors,--you 'd see then. There is quite enough for a shabby verdict!

But I regard the affair very differently, and I tell you frankly, if I see Cashel draw off in his attentions, I 'll send for my cousin O'Gorman. I believe you can a.s.sure your young client that he 'll find there's no joking with him."

Now this was the "most unkindest cut of all;" for if report spoke truly, Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k had himself experienced from that gentleman a species of moral force impulsion which left the most unpleasant reminiscences behind.

"I beseech you to remember, Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k, that this agency is one of the best in Ireland."

"So much the more reason to have the princ.i.p.al your son-in-law."

"I 'd have you to reflect how little success coercion is like to have with a person of Mr. Cashel's temper."

"Peter is the best shot in Ballinasloe," rejoined Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k, sententiously.

Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k nodded a full a.s.sent, but seemed to hazard a doubt as to the efficiency of such skill.