beings!" added Lady Dashfort, marking a cloud gathering on Lord
Colambre's countenance. "I laugh at them, because I love them. I could
not love any thing I might not laugh at--your lordship excepted. So
you'll come--that's settled."

And so it was settled. Our hero went to Killpatricks-town.

"Every thing here sumptuous and unfinished, you see," said Lady
Dashfort to Lord Colambre, the day after their arrival. "All begun as
if the projectors thought they had the command of the mines of Peru,
and ended as if the possessors had not sixpence. Luxuries enough for
an English prince of the blood: comforts not enough for an English
yeoman. And you may be sure that great repairs and alterations have
gone on to fit this house for our reception, and for our English
eyes!--Poor people!--English visitors, in this point of view, are
horribly expensive to the Irish. Did you ever hear, that in the last
century, or in the century before the last, to put my story far enough
back, so that it shall not touch any body living; when a certain
English nobleman, Lord Blank A----, sent to let his Irish friend, Lord
Blank B----, know that he and all his train were coming over to pay
him a visit; the Irish nobleman, Blank B----, knowing the deplorable
condition of his castle, sat down fairly to calculate whether it would
cost him most to put the building in good and sufficient repair,
fit to receive these English visitors, or to burn it to the ground.
He found the balance to be in favour of burning, which was wisely
accomplished next day.[1] Perhaps Killpatrick would have done well
to follow this example. Resolve me which is worst, to be burnt
out of house and home, or to be eaten out of house and home. In
this house, above and below stairs, including first and second
table, housekeeper's room, lady's maids' room, butler's room, and