"Yes, sir, she is--it is."

"And has she sold her fine horses?"

"Oh, no, sir--this is not her carriage at all--she is not here. That
is, she is here, in Ireland; but down in the county of Wicklow, on
a visit. And this is not her own carriage at all;--that is to say,
not that which she has with herself, driving; but only just the cast
barouche like, as she keeps for the lady's maids."

"For the lady's maids! that is good! that is new, faith! Sir James, do
you hear that?"

"Indeed, then, and it's true, and not a word of a lie!" said the
honest landlord. "And this minute, we've got a directory of five of
them Abigails, sitting within our house; as fine ladies, as great
dashers too, every bit, as their principals; and kicking up as much
dust on the road, every grain!--Think of them, now! The likes of
them, that must have four horses, and would not stir a foot with one
less!--As the gentleman's gentleman there was telling and boasting
to me about now, when the barouche was ordered for them there at the
lady's house, where Lady Dashfort is on a visit--they said they would
not get in till they'd get four horses; and their ladies backed them;
and so the four horses was got; and they just drove out here to see
the points of view for fashion's sake, like their betters; and up with
their glasses, like their ladies; and then out with their watches, and
'Isn't it time to lunch?' So there they have been lunching within on
what they brought with them; for nothing in our house could they touch
of course! They brought themselves a _pick-nick_ lunch, with Madeira