in a hundred possible but improbable ways. It was after he had been
drinking a while, that these ideas became most vivid before his eyes,
and seemed like golden dreams, the accomplishment of which he could
hardly wish for. And, at last, as the fumes of the spirit gave him
courage, other and more horrible images would rise to his imagination,
and the drops of sweat would stand on his brow as he would invent
schemes by which, were he so inclined, he could accelerate, without
detection, the event for which he so ardently longed. With such
thoughts would he turn into bed; and though in the morning he would try
to dispel the ideas in which he had indulged overnight, they still left
their impression on his mind;--they added bitterness to his hatred--and
made him look on himself as a man injured by his father and sister, and
think that he owed it to himself to redress his injuries by some
extraordinary means.

It was whilst Barry Lynch was giving way to such thoughts as these, and
vainly endeavouring to make up his mind as to what he would do, that
Martin made his offer to Anty. To tell the truth, it was Martin's
sister Meg who had made the first overture; and, as Anty had not
rejected it with any great disdain, but had rather shown a disposition
to talk about it as a thing just possible, Martin had repeated it in
person, and had reiterated it, till Anty had at last taught herself to
look upon it as a likely and desirable circumstance. Martin had behaved
openly and honourably with regard to the money part of the business;
telling his contemplated bride that it was, of course, her fortune
which had first induced him to think of her; but adding, that he would
also value her and love her for herself, if she would allow him. He
described to her the sort of settlement he should propose, and ended by
recommending an early day for the wedding.