upon her was the recollection of the manly and admirable qualities of him whom she had now forever lost, especially as contrasted with those of Dunroe.  The former, for some time past, has been much engaged in attempting to trace Fenton, as well as in business connected with his own fortunes; and yet so high was his feeling of generosity and honor, that, if left to the freedom of his own will, he would have postponed every exertion for the establishment of his just rights until death should have prevented at least one honored individual from experiencing the force of the blow which must necessarily be inflicted on him by his proceedings.

At the moment when the baronet was giving such an adroit turn to the distracted state of his daughter’s mind, the stranger resolved to see Birney, who was then preparing to visit France, as agent in his affairs, he himself having preferred staying near Lucy, from an apprehension that his absence might induce Sir Thomas Gourlay to force on her marriage.  On passing through the hall of his hotel, he met his friend Father M’Mahon, who, much to his surprise, looked careworn and perplexed, having lost, since he saw him last, much of his natural cheerfulness and easy simplicity of character.  He looked travel-stained, too, and altogether had the appearance of a man on whose kind heart something unpleasant was pressing.

“My excellent friend,” said he, “I am heartily glad to see you.  But how is this? you look as if something was wrong, and you have been travelling.  Come upstairs; and if you have any lengthened stay to make in town, consider yourself my guest.  Nay, as it is, you must stop with me.  Here, Dandy—­here, you Dulcimer, bring in this gentleman’s luggage, and attend him punctually.”

Dandy, who had been coming from the kitchen at the time, was about to comply with his orders, when he was prevented by the priest.

“Stop, Dandy, you thief.  My luggage, sir!  In truth, the only luggage I have is this bundle under my arm.  As to my time in town, sir, I hope it won’t be long; but, long or short, I must stop at my ould place, the Brazen Head, for not an hour’s comfort I could have in any other place, many thanks to you.  I’m now on my way to it; but I thought I’d give you a call when passing.”

They then proceeded upstairs to the stranger’s room, where breakfast was soon provided for the priest, who expressed an anxiety to know how the stranger’s affairs proceeded, and whether any satisfactory trace of poor Fenton had been obtained.

“Nothing satisfactory has turned up in either case,” replied the stranger.  “No additional clew to the poor young fellow has been got, and still my own affairs are far from being complete.  The loss of important documents obtained by myself in France will render it necessary for Birney to proceed to that country, in order to procure fresh copies.  I had intended to accompany him myself; but I have changed my mind on that point, and prefer remaining where I am.  A servant in whom I had every confidence, but who, unfortunately, took to drink, and worse vices, robbed me of them, and has fled to America, with a pretty Frenchwoman, after having abandoned his wife.”