“I fear I cannot, Mr. Finnerty, but I dare say my brother will do himself the pleasure of dining with you.”

“It cannot be for at least six weeks, Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop.  “You forget that the confirmations begin in ten days; but I shall have the pleasure of dining with you when I come to confirm in your parish.”

“Phoo!  Why, Doctor, that’s a matter of course.  Couldn’t your lordship make it convenient to come during the week, and bring the Counsellor here with you?  Don’t say no, Counsellor; I’ll have no demurring.”

“Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop, “it is impossible at present.  My brother goes to Dublin to-morrow, and I must go on the following day to attend the consecration of a chapel in the metropolis.”

“Then upon my credit, your lordship will get neither the name nor description of my Facia, until you earn it by eating a dinner, and drinking a glass of claret with the Rev. Father Finnerty.  Are those hard terms, Counsellor?—­Ha! ha! ha!  I’m not the man to put off a thing, I assure you.”

“Mr. Finnerty,” said the Bishop, smiling at, but not noticing the worthy priest’s blunder about the Fucia, “if possible, I shall dine with you soon; but at present it is out of my power to appoint a day.”

“Well, well, Doctor, make your own time of it; and now for the purport of our journey.  Denis O’Shaughnessy here, my lord, is a warm, respectable parishioner of mine—­a man indeed for whom I have a great regard.  He is reported to have inherited from his worthy father, two horns filled with guineas.  His grandmother, as he could well inform your lordship, was born with a lucky caul upon her, which caul is still in the family.  Isn’t it so, Denis?”

“My lord, in dignity, it’s truth,” replied Denis, “and from the time it came into the family they always thruv, thanks be to goodness!”

The lawyer sat eyeing the priest and Denis alternately, evidently puzzled to comprehend what such a remarkable introduction could lead to.

The Bishop seemed not to be surprised, for his features betrayed no change whatsoever.

“Having, therefore, had the necessary means of educating a son for the church, he has accordingly prepared this young man with much anxiety and expense for Maynooth.”

“Plase your lordship,” said Denis, “Docthor Finnerty is clothin’ it betther than I could do.  My heart is fixed upon seein’ him what we all expect him to be, your lordship.”

“Mr. Finnerty,” observed the Bishop, “you seem to be intimately acquainted with O’Shaughnessy’s circumstances; you appear to take a warm interest in the family, particularly in the success of his son.”

“Undoubtedly my lord; I am particularly anxious for his success.”

“You received my letter yesterday?”

“I am here to-day, my lord, in consequence of having received it.  But, by the by, there was, under favor, a slight misconception on the part of your—­”