She pointed out the advantages of a change which, while securing a comfortable home to them, would equally suggest to their dependants lessons of thrift and self-sacrifice, and added, half sportively, "As for me, when I find myself _en Suisse_, I 'm sure I shall less regret horses and dogs, and such-like vanities, and take to the delights of a dairy and cream cheeses with a good grace. Indeed, I 'm not quite certain but that Fortune, instead of displacing, will in reality be only installing me in the position best suited to me. Do not, then, be surprised, if at your return you find me in sabots and an embroidered bodice, deep in the mystery of all cottage economics, and well content to be so.

"You are quite right, my dear aunt," she continued, "not to entertain me with politics. The theme is as much above as it is distasteful to me; and so grovelling are my sentiments, that I 'd rather hear of the arrival of a cargo of oatmeal at Kilkieran than learn that the profoundest statesman of Great Britain had condescended to stand for our dear borough of Oughterard. At the same time, if Cousin Harry should change his mind, and turn his ambition towards the Senate, tell him I 'm quite ready to turn out and canva.s.s for him to-morrow, and that the hospitalities of the Chalet shall do honor to the cause. As you speak of sending for Mr. Scanlan, I leave to him to tell you all the events of our late a.s.sizes here,--a task I escape from the more willingly, since I have no successes to record. Mr. Repton, however,--he paid me a visit yesterday, and stopped here to dinner,--says that he has no fears for the result at the next trial, and honestly confesses that our present defeat was entirely owing to the skill and ability of the counsel opposed to us. By some delay or mistake, I don't exactly know which, Scanlan omitted to send a retainer to young Mr. Nelligan, and who, being employed for the other side, was the chief cause of our failure. My uncle will be pleased to learn that Mr. N.'s address to the jury was scrupulously free from any of that invective or attack so frequently levelled at landlords when defending the rights of property. Repton called it 'a model of legal argument, delivered with the eloquence of a first-rate speaker, and the taste and temper of a gentleman.' Indeed, I understand that the tone of the speech has rendered all the ribaldry usual on such occasions in local journals impossible, and that the young barrister has acquired anything but popularity in consequence. Even in this much, is there a dawn of better things; and under such circ.u.mstances a defeat may be more profitable than a victory."

With a few kind messages to her uncle, and an earnest entreaty for early tidings of his state, Mary concluded a letter in which her great difficulty lay in saying far less than her thoughts dictated, and conveying as much as she dare trust to Lady Dorothea's interpretation.

The letter concluded and sealed, she lay down, dressed as she was, on her bed, and fell a-thinking over the future.

There are natures to whom the opening of any new vista in life suggests fully as much of pleasure as anxiety. The prospect of the unknown and the untried has something of the adventurous about it which more than counterbalances the casualties of a future. Such a temperament was hers; and the first sense of sorrowful indignation over, she really began to speculate upon her cottage life with a certain vague and dreamy enjoyment. She foresaw, that when Cro' Martin Castle fell into other hands, that her own career ceased, her occupation was gone, and that she should at once fashion out some new road, and conform herself to new habits. The cares of her little household would probably not suffice to engage one whose active mind had hitherto embraced so wide a field of action, and Mary then bethought her how this leisure might be devoted to study and improvement. It was only in the eager enthusiasm of her many pursuits that she buried her sorrows over her neglected and imperfect education; and now a time was approaching when that reflection could no longer be resisted. She pondered long and deeply over these thoughts, when suddenly they were interrupted; but in what way, deserves a chapter of its own,--albeit a very brief one.

CHAPTER XVIII. MR. MERL'S EXPERIENCES IN THE WEST

"What card is this?--who left it?" said Mary, as she took up one from her breakfast-table.

"It is a gentleman that came to the inn late last night, miss, and sent a boy over to ask when he could pay his respects at the castle."

"'Mr. Herman Merl,'--a name I never heard of," muttered Mary to herself.

"Doubtless some stranger wishing to see the house. Say, whenever he pleases, George; and order Sorrel to be ready, saddled and at the door, within an hour. This must be a busy day," said she, still speaking to herself, as the servant left the room. "At Oughterard before one; a meeting of the Loan Fund--I shall need some aid for my hospital; the Government order for the meal to be countersigned by a justice--Mr.

Nelligan will do it. Then there 's Taite's little boy to be balloted for in the Orphan House; and Ca.s.sidy's son to be sent up to Dublin.

Poor fellow, he has a terrible operation to go through. And I shall need Priest Rafferty's name to this memorial from the widows; the castle authorities seem to require it. After that, a visit to Kyle-a-Noe, to see all my poor sick folk: that will be a long business. I hope I may be able to get down to the sh.o.r.e and learn some tidings of poor Joan. She never leaves my thoughts, and yet I feel that no ill has befallen her."

"The gentleman that sent the card, miss, is below stairs. He is with Mr.

Crow, at the hall-door," said George.

"Show him into the drawing-room, George, and tell Mr. Crow to come here, I wish to speak to him." And before Mary had put away the papers and letters which littered the table, the artist entered.

"Good morning, Mr. Crow," said Mary, in return for a number of most courteous salutations, which he was performing in a small semicircle in front of her. "Who is your friend Mr.--'Mr. Herman Merl '?" read she, taking up the card.

"A friend of your cousin's, Miss Mary,--of the Captain's. He brought a letter from him; but he gave it to Scanlan, and somehow Mr. Maurice, I believe, forgot to deliver it."

"I have no recollection of it," said she, still a.s.sorting the papers before her. "What is this visit meant for,--curiosity, pleasure, business? Does he wish to see the house?"

"I think it's Miss Martin herself he'd like to see," said Crow, half slyly.

"But why so? It's quite clear that I cannot show him any attentions. A young girl, living as I do here, cannot be expected to receive guests.

Besides, I have other things to attend to. You must do the honors of Cro' Martin, Mr. Crow. You must entertain this gentleman for me. I 'll order luncheon before I go out, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me this service."

"I wish I knew a real service to render you, Miss Mary," said he, with unfeigned devotedness in his look as he spoke.

"I think I could promise myself as much," said Mary, smiling kindly on him. "Do you happen to know anything of this stranger, Mr. Crow?"

"Nothing, miss, beyond seeing him this week back at Kilkieran."

"Oh, I have heard of him, then," broke in Mary. "It is of him the people tell me such stories of benevolence and goodness. It was he that sent the yawl out to Murran Island with oatmeal and potatoes for the poor.

But I thought they called him Mr. Barry?"

"To be sure they do; and he's another guess man from him below stairs.

This one here"--Mr. Crow now spoke in a whisper--"this one here is a Jew, I 'd take the Testament on it, and I 'd not be surprised if he was one of them thieving villains that they say robbed the Captain! All the questions he does be asking about the property, and the rents, if they 're well paid, and what arrears there are, shows me that he isn't here for nothing."

"I know nothing of what you allude to, Mr. Crow," said she, half proudly; "it would ill become _me_ to pry into my cousin's affairs. At the same time, if the gentleman has no actual business with me, I shall decline to receive him."

"He says he has, miss," replied Crow. "He says that he wants to speak to you about a letter he got by yesterday's post from the Captain."

Mary heard this announcement with evident impatience; her head was, indeed, too full of other cares to wish to occupy her attention with a ceremonial visit. She was in no mood to accept the unmeaning compliments of a new acquaintance. Shall we dare to insinuate, what after all is a mere suspicion on our part, that a casual glance at her pale cheeks, sunken eyes, and careworn features had some share in the obstinacy of her refusal? She was not, indeed, "in looks," and she knew it. "Must I repeat it, Mr. Crow," said she, peevishly, "that you can do all this for me, and save me a world of trouble and inconvenience besides? If there should be--a very unlikely circ.u.mstance--anything confidential to communicate, this gentleman may write it." And with this she left the room, leaving poor Mr. Crow in a state of considerable embarra.s.sment.

Resolving to make the best of his difficulty, he returned to the drawing-room, and apologizing to Merl for Miss Martin's absence on matters of great necessity, he conveyed her request that he would stop for luncheon.

"She ain't afraid of me, I hope?" said Merl.

"I trust not. I rather suspect she is little subject to fear upon any score," replied Crow.

"Well, I must say it's not exactly what I expected. The letter I hold here from the Captain gives me to understand that his cousin will not only receive me, but confer with and counsel me, too, in a somewhat important affair."

"Oh, I forgot," broke in Crow; "you are to write to her, she said,--that is, if there really were anything of consequence, which you deemed confidential, you know,--you were to write to her."

"I never put my hand to paper, Mr. Crow, without well knowing why. When Herman Merl signs anything, he takes time to consider what's in it,"

said the Jew, knowingly.

"Well, shall I show you the house,--there are some clever specimens of the Dutch masters here?" asked Crow, anxious to change the topic.

"Ay, with all my heart. I suppose I must accept this privilege as my experience of the much-boasted Irish hospitality," said he with a sneer, which required all Crow's self-control to resist answering. To master the temptation, and give himself a few moments' repose, he went about opening windows and drawing back curtains, so as to admit a fuller and stronger light upon the pictures along the walls.

"There now," said he, pointing to a large landscape, "there's a Both, and a fine one too; as mellow in color and as soft in distance as ever he painted."

"That's a copy," said the other. "That picture was painted by Woeffel, and I 'll show you his initials, too, A. W., before we leave it."

"It came from the Dordrecht gallery, and is an undoubted Both!"

exclaimed Crow, angrily.

"I saw it there myself, and in very suitable company, too, with a Snyders on one side and a Rubens on t' other, the Snyders being a Faltk, and the Rubens a Metziger; the whole three being positively dear at twenty pounds. Ay, here it is," continued he, pointing to the hollow trunk of a decayed tree: "there's the initials. So much for your original by Both."

"I hope you'll allow that to be a Mieris?" said Crow, pa.s.sing on to another.

"If you hadn't opened the shutters, perhaps I might," said Merl; "but with a good dash of light I see it is by Jansens,--and a clever copy, too."

"A copy!" exclaimed the other.

"A good copy," I said. "The King of Bavaria has the original. It is in the small collection at Hohen Schw.a.n.gau."

"There, that's good!" cried he, turning to a small unfinished sketch in oils.

"I often wondered who did it," cried Crow.

"That! Why, can you doubt, sir? That's a bit of Vand.y.k.e's own. It was one of the hundred and fifty rough things he threw off as studies for his great picture of St. Martin parting his cloak."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," said Crow, in delight. "I felt, when I looked at it, that it was a great hand threw in them colors."

"You call this a Salvator Rosa, don't you?" said Merl, as he stood before a large piece representing a bandit's bivouac in a forest, with a pale moonlight stealing through the trees.