“On what do they rest?” asked the other.

“They are founded upon your want of morals,” replied Clinton.

“Well, suppose I reform my morals?”

“That is, substitute hypocrisy for profligacy; I fear, Hycy, the elements of reformation are rather slight within you.”

“Seriously, you do me injustice; and, besides, a man ought not to be judged of his morals before marriage, but after.”

“Faith, both before and after, in my opinion, Hycy.  No well-educated, right-minded girl would marry a man of depraved morals, knowing him to be such.”

“But I really am not worse than others, nor so bad as many.  Neither have I the reputation of being an immoral man.  A little wild and over-impulsive from animal spirits I may be, but all that will pass off with the new state.  No, no, d—­n it, don’t allow Miss Clinton to imbibe such prejudices.  I do not say that I am a saint; but I shall settle down and bring her to church very regularly, and hear the sermon with most edifying attention.  Another glass of grog?”

“No, no.”

“But I hope and trust, my dear Harry, that you have not been making impressions against me.”

“Unquestionably not.  I only say you have no chance whatever in that quarter.”

“Will you allow me to try?” asked Hycy.

“I have not the slightest objection,” replied the other, “because I know how it will result.”

“Very well,—­thank you even for that same, my dear Harry; but, seriously speaking, I fear that neither you nor I are leading the kind of lives we ought, and so far I cannot quarrel with your sister’s principles.  On the contrary, they enable me to appreciate her if possible still more highly; for a clear and pure standard of morals in a wife is not only the best fortune but the best security for happiness besides.  You might stop and dine?”

“No, thank you, it is impossible.  By the way, I have already spoiled my dinner with that splendid ham of yours.  Give me a call when in town.”

Hycy, after Clinton’s departure, began to review his own position.  Of ultimately succeeding with Miss Clinton he entertained little doubt.  So high and confident was his vanity, that he believed himself capable of performing mighty feats, and achieving great successes, with the fair sex,—­all upon the strength of having destroyed the reputation of two innocent country girls.  Somehow, notwithstanding his avowed attachment for Miss Clinton, he could not help now and then reverting to the rich beauty and magnificent form of Kathleen Cavanagh; nor was this contemplation of his lessened by considering that, with all his gentlemanly manners, and accomplishments, and wealth to boot, she preferred the clod-hopper, as he called Bryan M’Mahon, to himself.