‘Is it not a pleasure, gentlemen,’ said he, ’for me, as I am drawing near the goal, to find my home such a happy one; my wife so fond of me, that she is even now thinking of appointing a successor? (I don’t mean you precisely, Mr. Barry; you are only taking your chance with a score of others whom I could mention.) Isn’t it a comfort to see her, like a prudent housewife, getting everything ready for her husband’s departure?’

‘I hope you are not thinking of leaving us soon, knight?’ said I, with perfect sincerity; for I liked him, as a most amusing companion.  ‘Not so soon, my dear, as you may fancy, perhaps,’ continued he.  ’Why, man, I have been given over any time these four years; and there was always a candidate or two waiting to apply for the situation.  Who knows how long I may keep you waiting?’ and he did keep me waiting some little time longer than at that period there was any reason to suspect.

As I declared myself pretty openly, according to my usual way, and authors are accustomed to describe the persons of the ladies with whom their heroes fall in love; in compliance with this fashion, I perhaps should say a word or two respecting the charms of my Lady Lyndon.  But though I celebrated them in many copies of verses, of my own and other persons’ writing; and though I filled reams of paper in the passionate style of those days with compliments to every one of her beauties and smiles, in which I compared her to every flower, goddess, or famous heroine ever heard of,—­truth compels me to say that there was nothing divine about her at all.  She was very well; but no more.  Her shape was fine, her hair dark, her eyes good, and exceedingly active; she loved singing, but performed it as so great a lady should, very much out of tune.  She had a smattering of half-a-dozen modern languages, and, as I have said before, of many more sciences than I even knew the names of.  She piqued herself on knowing Greek and Latin; but the truth is, that Mr. Runt, used to supply her with the quotations which she introduced into her voluminous correspondence.  She had as much love of admiration, as strong, uneasy a vanity, and as little heart, as any woman I ever knew.  Otherwise, when her son, Lord Bullingdon, on account of his differences with me, ran—­but that matter shall be told in its proper time.  Finally, my Lady Lyndon was about a year older than myself; though, of course, she would take her Bible oath that she was three years younger.

Few men are so honest as I am; for few will own to their real motives, and I don’t care a button about confessing mine.  What Sir Charles Lyndon said was perfectly true.  I made the acquaintance of Lady Lyndon with ulterior views.  ‘Sir,’ said I to him, when, after the scene described and the jokes he made upon me, we met alone, ’let those laugh that win.  You were very pleasant upon me a few nights since, and on my intentions regarding your lady.  Well, if they are what you think they are,—­if I do wish to step into your shoes, what then?  I have no other intentions than you had yourself.  I’ll be sworn to muster just as much regard for my Lady Lyndon as you ever showed her; and if I win her and wear her when you are dead and gone, corbleu, knight, do you think it will be the fear of your ghost will deter me?’