if you please."

Lady Clonbrony rose, with great stateliness, and walked to the
farthest end of the room, where she established herself at her
writing-table, and began to write notes.

Sir Terence wiped his forehead deliberately.--"Then I've had a fine
run--Miss Nugent, I believe you never saw me run; but I can run, I
promise you, when it's to serve a friend--And my lord (turning to
Lord Clonbrony), what do you think I run for this morning--to buy a
bargain--and of what?--a bargain of a bad debt--a debt of yours, which
I bargained for, and up just in time--and Mordicai's ready to hang
himself this minute--For what do you think that rascal was bringing
upon you--but an execution?--he was."

"An execution!" repeated every body present, except Lord Colambre.

"And how has this been prevented, sir?" said Lord Colambre.

"Oh! let me alone for that," said Sir Terence. "I got a hint from
my little friend, Paddy Brady, who would not be paid for it either,
though he's as poor as a rat. Well! as soon as I got the hint, I
dropped the thing I had in my hand, which was the Dublin Evening,
and ran for the bare life--for there wasn't a coach--in my slippers,
as I was, to get into the prior creditor's shoes, who is the little
solicitor that lives in Crutched Friars, which Mordicai never dreamt
of, luckily; so he was very genteel, though he was taken on a sudden,
and from his breakfast, which an Englishman don't like particularly--I
popped him a douceur of a draft, at thirty-one days, on Garraghty,
the agent; of which he must get notice; but I won't descant on the