“Faith, sir, and that’s more than I could do in kissing the widow.  Divil such a circumbendibus ever a man had as I had in gettin’ as far as the nose, where I had to give up until this evenin’ as I said.  Now, sir, whether to consider that an advantage or disadvantage is another mysthery to me.  There’s some women, and they have such a small, rosy, little mouth, that a man must gather up his lips into a bird’s bill to kiss them.  Now, there’s Miss Gour—­”

A look of fury from his master divided the word in his mouth, and he paused from terror.  His master became more composed, however, and said, “To what purpose have you told me all this?”

“Gad, sir to tell you the truth, I saw you were low-spirited, and wanted something to rouse you.  It’s truth for all that.”

“Is this Mrs. Norton, however, the woman whom we are seeking?”

“Well, well,” exclaimed Dandy, casting down his hand, with vexatious, vehemence, against the open air; “by the piper o’ Moses, I’m the stupidest man that ever peeled a phatie.  Troth, I was so engaged, sir, that I forgot it; but I’ll remember it to-night, plaise goodness.”

“Ah, Dandy,” exclaimed his master, smiling, “I fear you are a faithless swain.  I thought Alley Mahon was at least the first on the list.”

“Troth, sir,” replied Dandy, “I believe she is, too.  Poor Alley!  By the way, sir, I beg your pardon, but I have news for you that I fear will give you a heavy heart.”

“How,” exclaimed his master, “how—­what is it?  Tell me instantly.”

“Miss Gourlay is ill, sir.  She was goin’ to be married to this lord; her father, I believe, had the day appointed, and she had given her consent.”

His master seized him by the collar with both hands, and peering into his eyes, whilst his own blazed with actual fire, he held him for a moment as if in a vise, exclaiming, “Her consent, you villain!” But, as if recollecting himself, he suddenly let him go, and said, calmly, “Go on with what you were about to say.”

“I have very little more to say, sir,” replied Dandy; “herself and Lord Dunroe is only waitin’ till she gets well and then they’re to be married?”

“You said she gave her consent, did you not!”

“No doubt of it, sir, and that, I believe, is what’s breakin’ her heart.  However, it’s not my affair to direct any one; still, if I was in somebody’s shoes, I know the tune I’d sing.”

“And what tune would you sing?” asked his master.

Dandy sung the following stave, and, as he did it, he threw his comic eye upon his master with such humorous significance that the latter, although wrapped in deep reflection at the moment, on suddenly observing! it, could not avoid smiling: 

     “Will you list, and come with me, fair maid? 
     Will you list, and come with me, fair maid? 
     Will you list, and come with me, fair maid? 
     And folly the lad with the white cockade?”