'Twas a folly; but what folly will not young men do ?' And the good parson poked the fire a little impatiently.
'Mr.Mervyn--_not_ Mervyn--that was his mother's name; but--see, you must not mention it, Lily, if I tell you--_not_ Mr.Mervyn, I say, but my Lord Dunoran, the only son of that disgraced and blood-stained nobleman, who, lying in gaol, under sentence of death for a foul and cowardly murder, swallowed poison, and so closed his guilty life with a tremendous crime, in its nature inexpiable.

There, that's all, and too much, darling.' 'And was it very long ago ?' 'Why, 'twas before little Lily was born; and long before _that_ I knew him--only just a little.

He used the Tiled House for a hunting-lodge, and kept his dogs and horses there--a fine gentleman, but vicious, always, I fear, and a gamester; an overbearing man, with a dangerous cast of pride in his eye.

You don't remember Lady Dunoran ?--pooh, pooh, what am I thinking of?
No, to be sure! you could not.

'Tis from her, chiefly, poor lady, he has his good looks.