he maintained a considerate and gentlemanly silence on the subject—­a circumstance which saved them from the embarrassment of much self-defence, or a painful admission of their error—­and not only satisfied them that Tom was honest and unselfish, but modest and forbearing.  It is true, that an occasional act or solecism of manner, somewhat at variance with the conventional usages of polite society, and an odd vulgarism of expression, were slight blemishes which might be brought to his charge, and would probably have told against any one else.  But it was well known that Mr. Norton admitted himself to be a Connaught gentleman, with some of the rough habits of his country, as well of manner as of phraseology, about him; and it was not to be expected that a Connemara gentleman, no matter how high his birth and connection, could at once, or at all, divest himself of these piquant and agreeable peculiarities.

So much for Tom, who had been for at least a couple of years previous to his present appearance fairly domesticated with his lordship, acting not only as his guide, philosopher, and friend, but actually as major-domo, or general steward of the establishment, even condescending to pay the servants, and kindly undertaking to rescue his friend, who was ignorant of business, from the disagreeable trouble of coming in contact with tradesmen, and making occasional disbursements in matters of which Lord Dunroe knew little or nothing.  Tom was indeed a most invaluable friend, and his lordship considered it a very fortunate night on which they first became acquainted; for, although he lost to the tune of five hundred pounds to him in one of the most fashionable gaming-houses of London, yet, as a compensation—­and more than a compensation—­for that loss, he gained Tom in return.

His lordship was lying on one side in bed, with the Memoirs of ------
on the pillow beside him, when Tom, who had only entered a few minutes
before, on looking at the walls of the apartment, exclaimed, “What the
deuce is this, my lord?  Are you aware that your father will be here in a
couple of hours from this time?” and he looked at his watch.

“Oh, ay; the old peer,” replied his lordship, in a languid voice, “coming as a missionary to reform the profane and infidel.  I wish he would let me alone, and subscribe to the Missionary Society at once.”

“But, my dear Dunroe, are you asleep?”

“Very nearly, I believe.  I wish I was.”

“But what’s to be done with certain of these pictures?  You don’t intend his lordship should see them, I hope?”

“No; certainly not, Tom.  We must have them removed.  Will you see about it, Tom, like a good fellow?  Stow them, however, in some safe place, where they won’t be injured.”

“Those five must go,” said Norton.

“No,” replied his lordship, “let the Magdalen stay; it will look like a tendency to repentance, you know, and the old peer may like it.”