'Tis an unlucky country so it is where the houses of the gentry must be all stannin' empty or tumblin' to ruins, or bein' turned into asylums or the like." "I should like to see the inside of Brosna," I said.

"Is it as fine as they say ?" "It is the finest house in this country, Miss Bawn--finer even than the Abbey.

But all goin' to rack and ruin for want of an owner to look after it.

But as for seein' it, I wouldn't be talkin' about such a thing.

It is a long time since his Lordship and her Ladyship could bear to hear the name of Cardew." "I have heard you say, Maureen," I went on, "that Anthony Cardew was the handsomest young man ever seen in this country, that he had a leg and foot as elegant even as Uncle Luke's, and that to see him dance was the finest sight you could wish for, and that all the ladies were in love with him." "I never put him before Master Luke.