However, the money must be had, and Lord Kilcullen was not long in quieting his conscience.

“Tierney,” said Kilcullen, meeting his friend after his escape from the book-room; “you are not troubled with a father now, I believe;—­do you recollect whether you ever had one?”

“Well, I can’t say I remember just at present,” said Mat; “but I believe I had a sort of one, once.”

“I’m a more dutiful son than you,” said the other; “I never can forget mine.  I have no doubt an alligator on the banks of the Nile is a fearful creature—­a shark when one’s bathing, or a jungle tiger when one’s out shooting, ought, I’m sure, to be avoided; but no creature yet created, however hungry, or however savage, can equal in ferocity a governor who has to shell out his cash!  I’ve no wish for a tete-a-tete with any bloody-minded monster; but I’d sooner meet a starved hyena, single-handed in the desert, than be shut up for another hour with my Lord Cashel in that room of his on the right-hand side of the hall.  If you hear of my having beat a retreat from Grey Abbey, without giving you or any one else warning of my intention, you will know that I have lacked courage to comply with a second summons to those gloomy realms.  If I receive another invite such as that I got this morning, I am off.”

Lady Cashel’s guests came on the day appointed; the carriages were driven up, one after another, in quick succession, about an hour before dinner-time; and, as her ladyship’s mind became easy on the score of disappointments, it was somewhat troubled as to the multitude of people to be fed and entertained.  Murray had not yet forgiven the injury inflicted on him when the family dinner was kept waiting for Lord Kilcullen, and Richards was still pouting at her own degraded position.  The countess had spent the morning pretending to make arrangements, which were in fact all settled by Griffiths; and when she commenced the operation of dressing herself, she declared she was so utterly exhausted by what she had gone through during the last week, as to be entirely unfit to entertain her company.  Poor dear Lady Cashel!  Was she so ignorant of her own nature as to suppose it possible that she should ever entertain anybody?

However, a glass of wine, and some mysterious drops, and a little paint; a good deal of coaxing, the sight of her diamonds, and of a large puce-coloured turban, somewhat revivified her; and she was in her drawing-room in due time, supported by Lady Selina and Fanny, ready to receive her visitors as soon as they should descend from their respective rooms.

Lady Cashel had already welcomed Lord George, and shaken hands with the bishop:  and was now deep in turnips and ten-pound freeholders with the gouty colonel, who had hobbled into the room on a pair of crutches, and was accommodated with two easy chairs in a corner—­one for himself, and the other for his feet.

“Now, my dear Lady George,” said the countess, “you must not think of returning to Mountains tonight:  indeed, we made sure of you and Lord George for a week.”