"Hap House. Oh, it's he is the thorough-going young gentleman. Only they say he's a leetle too fast. To my mind, Mr. Owen is the finest-looking man to be seen anywhere's in the county Cork."
"He's a flame of yours, is he, Fan?"
"I don't know what you main by a flame. But there's not a girl in Cork but what likes the glance of his eye. They do say that he'd have Lady Clara Desmond; only there ain't no money."
"And what's he to these other people?"
"Cousin, I believe; or hardly so much as that, I'm thinking. But all the same if anything was to happen to young Mr. Herbert, it would all go to him."
"It would, would it?"
"So people say."
"Mr. 'Erbert is the son of the old cock at Castle Richmond, isn't he?"
"Just so. He's the young cock; he, he, he!"
"And if he was to be—nowhere like; not his father's son at all, for instance, it would all go to this 'andsome 'Appy 'Ouse man; would it?"