Dunore, and for her "society for disseminating cheap tracts," got up for the especial diffusion of intolerance, and sowing of division among the families of the credulous and unenlightened: but most of all, and best of all, she would have the opportunity of converting, saving, and governing the gay, dissipated, and worldly, but most noble Emily Augusta, Marchioness of Dunore; of accompanying her back to London, and founding and presiding over religious conversaziones at Dunore House; herself the star of attraction to parliamentary saints and borough-mongering devotées; out-rivalling Madamoiselle Espinasse, who drew from her noble patroness the disciples of a very different sect, and, in the end, became chief, where she had debuté e as follower,

The evening destined for the arrival of Lady Dunore at last approached; not "like a pilgrim clad in sober grey," but like a flaunting dame, "in flame

coloured taffetas." It was one of those rich, red, autumnal evenings which, in Ireland, make the sole, the short indemnification, for eleven months of rain and vapour. For miles along the road which led to the town of Dunore, and which wound under the brow of hills, that were almost mountains, the expectation of her cavalcade crowded the acclivities with a long-waiting populace; and when her barouche, followed by two travelling carriages and out-riders, appeared, leaving the high road from Cork, and turning down Mr. Crawley's new made mail-coach road, which passed by Dunore, the old war-cry of the Fitzadelm family rendered the air vocal, and "Gal-ruadghaboo," shouted from a thousand voices, was followed by the descent of a multitude, who, with countenances and gestures as wild as their cry, swept down the sides of the hills, threw up their hats and shelelaghs in the air, surround

ed the carriage, and attempted to unharness the horses for the purpose of drawing the barouche, as a token of devotion and willing hereditary servitude to the long-absent Fitzadelm family.

Lady Dunore (who had never before visited Ireland), with two gentlemen and one lady, occupied the barouche. Rather agitated than frightened, she gave way to a strong hysterical affection. Her journey to Dunore, like her journey through life, had been subject to sudden alternations of excitement and lassitude, of emotions as opposite as their causes were inadequate. She had wept and laughed in a successive series since she had left Dublin, alternately amused and frightened as the sun shone or the clouds loured: she now wept and laughed together; and would have screamed had there been any chance of her screams becoming audible, but that was impossible. The ery of the "Irishry Mere," and the wrangling of the " Eng

lish by blood (for Lady Dunore's sturdy English coachman and out-riders protested against the carriage being drawn with suggans)* gave her Ladyship no chance for a successful exhibition of powerful emotion; she therefore concealed her face on Lady Georgina Vivian's shoulder, the lady who sat next her, and who, infinitely more intimidated, expressed her fears only by a death-like paleness and a quickened respiration.

Meantime, one of the two gentlemen who occupied the back seat in the barouche, Lord Frederick Eversham, not particularly affected by the alarms of either lady, which he saw were perfectly without cause, endeavoured to dispel them by diverting their attention, and indulging his own peculiar humour. Standing upright in the barouche, he waved his hat, joined the Irish ery, and addressed the multitude with the same

Straw ropes.

air of mingled drollery and affectation he was wont to assume in a circle at Almacks.

"I believe," he said, "I have the honour of addressing the respectable population of Dunore.”

An ill-favoured, but intelligent looking man, who was walking with his hand on the carriage door, and who was the identical travelling companion of the pedlar at Lis-na-sleugh, replied

"We are the Dunore boys, plaze your honor, up the mountains, come down to welcome home the Marchioness.'

"Then if you please, I will consider you as the organ of that august body, and beg to know the name of so enlightened a representative," replied Lord Frederick.

"Is it what name I have upon me, your honor? I'm called Padreen Gar, for want of a better, Sir. Is yourself