We forbear all further detail of this levee.  ‘It’s all the same!’ as Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery or oppression to which he was witness; and, having completely made up his mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the background, waiting till it should come to the widow’s turn to be dealt with, for he was now interested only to see how she would be treated.  The room gradually thinned; Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to help his brother to count the heaps of gold.

’Oh, Mr. Dennis, I’m glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting me here,’ said the widow O’Neill, walking up to him; ’I’m sure you’ll speak a good word for me; here’s the LASES—­who will I offer this to?’ said she, holding the glove-money and sealing-money,—­’for I’m strange and ashamed.’

’Oh, don’t be ashamed—­there’s no strangeness in bringing money or taking it,’ said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand.  ’Is this the proper compliment?’

‘I hope so, sir; your honour knows best.’

‘Very well,’ slipping it into his private purse.  ’Now, what’s your business?’

‘The LASES to sign—­the rent’s all paid up.’

‘Leases!  Why, woman, is the possession given up?’

’It was, plase your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little place in his pocket.’

’Then I hope he’ll keep it there.  Your little place—­it’s no longer yours; I’ve promised it to the surveyor.  You don’t think I’m such a fool as to renew to you at this rent.’

’Mr. Dennis named the rent.  But anything your honour PLASES—­anything at all that we can pay.’

’Oh, it’s out of the question—­put it out of your head.  No rent you can offer would do, for I’ve promised it to the surveyor.’

’Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a renewal, on the back of the ould lase.’

‘Produce it.’

‘Here’s the lase, but the promise is rubbed out.’

’Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that’s rubbed out.  Who’ll listen to that in a court of justice, do you think?’

’I don’t know, plase your honour; but this I’m sure of, my lord and Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it.’

’Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?—­What has she to do with the management of my Lord Clonbrony’s estate, pray?’

‘Management!—­no, sir.’

‘Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?’

‘Oh, God forbid!—­how could that be?’

’Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what my lord does not choose.’

’Well then, I’ll never mention Miss Nugent’s name in it at all, if it was ever so with me.  But be plased, sir, to write over to my lord, and ask him; I’m sure he’ll remember it.’