262 MEMOIR OF A GENTLEMAN. 



man ;' while upon Drusilla blessings rained, and she was 

 admitted to be ' the best sowl that ever laid leg below 

 mahogany !' 



" I was weary of this state. Mare Antony was in regular 

 possession of an apartment, which was duly termed by the 

 servant's 'Mr. Bodkin's room.' Summer passed, and so did 

 autumn and its host of grouse shooters. I foolishly hoped 

 that, considering the locality of Castle Toole, my locusts 

 would banish with the butterflies ; but the only difference 

 a rainy day made was, that the visitor who arrived, never 

 dreamed of departing till the morrow, and the numbers by 

 no means abated. Some heavy bills came in, and I seized 

 that opportunity of remonstrating with Drusilla. I told 

 her my health was breaking, my fortune unequal to my 

 expenses ; that common prudence required a certain limi- 

 tation to our irregular hospitality ; hinted that, though an 

 occasional visit from Mr. Marc Antony Bodkin would be 

 agreeable, yet that an everlasting abode would rather be a 

 bore. I would have continued, but my lady had listened, 

 she thought, too long already. She fired at the very idea 

 of retrenchment ; and as to Mr. Marc Antony Bodkin, we 

 were, it appeared, too much honoured by his society. He, 

 a third cousin of Clanricarde, condescended to take my 

 place, and entertain my company. He rode my horses and 

 drank my wine, neither of which feats, as she opined, nature 

 had designed me for doing in proper person ; in short, by 

 Herculean efforts on his part, he enabled me to hold my 

 place among gentlemen. As to the paltry consideration of 

 his residence, what was it ? ' God be with the time, when,' 

 as her ( lamented father' said, 'a stranger remained for 

 eighteen months in Castle Toole, and would probably have 

 lived and died there, but that his wife discovered him, 

 and forced the truant to abdicate ; and yet,' she added, 

 proudly, 'none could tell whether he was from Wales or 

 Enniskillen ; and some believed his name was Hamerton, 

 while others asserted it was Macintosh. But,' as she 

 concluded, ' when her kinsman Mr. Bodkin was turned out, 

 it was time for her to provide a residence,' and she flung 

 from the room like a Bacchante, making door and window 

 shiver. 



" Well, Sir, you may pity or despise me as you will ; from 

 that day my wife assumed the absolute mastery, and I calmly 



