The Absentee

by Maria Edgeworth

Happy as a lover, a friend, a son; happy in the consciousness of having restored a father to respectability, and persuaded a mother to quit the feverish joys of fashion for the pleasures of domestic life; happy in the hope of winning the whole heart of the woman he loved, and whose esteem, he knew, he possessed and deserved; happy in developing every day, every hour, fresh charm in his destined bride—we leave our hero, returning to his native country.

And we leave him with the reasonable expectation that he will support through life the promise of his early character; that his patriotic views will extend with his power to carry wishes into action; that his attachment to his warm-hearted countrymen will still increase upon further acquaintance; and that he will long diffuse happiness through the wide circle, which is peculiarly subject to the influence and example of a great resident Irish proprietor.

LETTER FROM LARRY TO HIS BROTHER, PAT BRADY, AT MR. MORDICAI'S, COACHMAKER, LONDON.

MY DEAR BROTHER,

Yours of the 26th, inclosing the five pound note for my father, came safe to hand Monday last; and with his thanks and blessing to you, he commends it to you herewith inclosed back again, on account of his being in no immediate necessity, nor likelihood to want in future, as you shall hear forthwith; but wants you over with all speed, and the note will answer for travelling charges; for we can't enjoy the luck it has pleased God to give us without YEES: put the rest in your pocket, and read it when you've time.

Old Nick's gone, and St. Dennis along with him, to the place he come from—praise be to God! The ould lord has found him out in his tricks; and I helped him to that, through the young lord that I driv, as I informed you in my last, when he was a Welchman, which was the best turn ever I did, though I did not know it no more than Adam that time. So OULD Nick's turned out of the agency clean and clear; and the day after it was known, there was surprising great joy through the whole country; not surprising either, but just what you might, knowing him, rasonably expect. He (that is, old Nick and St. Dennis) would have been burnt that night—I MANE, in EFFIGY, through the town of Clonbrony, but that the new man, Mr. Burke, come down that day too soon to stop it, and said, 'it was not becoming to trample on the fallen,' or something that way, that put an end to it; and though it was a great disappointment to many, and to me in particular, I could not but like the jantleman the better for it anyhow. They say, he is a very good jantleman, and as unlike old Nick or the saint as can be; and takes no duty fowl, nor glove, nor sealing-money; nor asks duty work nor duty turf. Well, when I was disappointed of the EFFIGY, I comforted myself by making a bonfire of old Nick's big rick of duty turf, which, by great luck, was out in the road, away from all dwelling-house, or thatch, or yards, to take fire; so no danger in life or objection. And such another blaze! I wished you'd seed it—and all the men, women, and children in the town and country, far and near, gathered round it, shouting and dancing like mad!—and it was light as day quite across the bog, as far as Bartley Finnigan's house. And I heard after, they seen it from all parts of the three counties, and they thought it was St. John's Eve in a mistake—or couldn't make out what it was; but all took it in good part, for a good sign, and were in great joy. As for St. Dennis and OULD Nick, an attorney had his foot upon em, with an habere a latitat, and three executions hanging over 'em; and there's the end of rogues! and a great example in the country. And—no more about it; for I can't be wasting more ink upon them that don't desarve it at my hands, when I want it for them that do, you shall see. So some weeks past, and there was great cleaning at Clonbrony Castle, and in the town of Clonbrony; and the new agent's smart and clever; and he had the glaziers, and the painters, and the slaters up and down in the town wherever wanted; and you wouldn't know it again. Thinks I, this is no bad sign! Now, cock up your ears, Pat! for the great news is coming, and the good. The master's come home—long life to him!—and family come home yesterday, all entirely! The OULD lord and the young lord (ay, there's the man, Paddy!), and my lady, and Miss Nugent. And I driv Miss Nugent's maid, that maid that was, and another; so I had the luck to be in it along WID 'em, and see all, from first to last. And first, I must tell you, my young Lord Colambre remembered and noticed me the minute he lit at our inn, and condescended to beckon at me out of the yard to him, and axed me—'Friend Larry,' says he, 'did you keep your promise?'—'My oath again' the whisky, is it?' says I. 'My lord, I surely did,' said I; which was true, as all the country knows I never tasted a drop since. 'And I'm proud to see your honour, my lord, as good as your word too, and back again among us. So then there was a call for the horses; and no more at that time passed betwix' my young lord and me, but that he pointed me out to the OULD one, as I went off. I noticed and thanked him for it in my heart, though I did not know all the good was to come of it. Well, no more of myself, for the present.

Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to the great gate of the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see; with the sun shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about, and kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were singing, and I stopped whistling, that they might hear them; but sorrow bit could they hear when they got to the park gate, for there was such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see—and they had the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew'em home, with, blessings, through the park. And, God bless 'em! when they got out, they didn't go shut themselves up in the great drawing-room, but went straight out to the TIRrass, to satisfy the eyes and hearts that followed them. My lady LANING on my young lord, and Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest angel that ever you set eyes on, with the finest complexion and sweetest of smiles, LANING upon the ould lord's arm, who had his hat off, bowing to all, and noticing the old tenants as he passed by name. Oh, there was great gladness and tears in the midst; for joy I could scarce keep from myself.

After a turn or two upon the TIRrass, my Lord Colambre QUIT his mother's arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some one.

'Is it the widow O'Neill, my lord?' says I; 'she's yonder, with the spectacles on her nose, betwixt her son and daughter, as usual.'

Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the TREE would stir; and then he gave TREE beckons with his own finger, and they all TREE came fast enough to the bottom of the slope forenent my lord; and he went down and helped the widow up (Oh, he's the true jantleman), and brought 'em all TREE up on the TIRrass, to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close after, that I might hear, which wasn't manners, but I couldn't help it. So what he said I don't well know, for I could not get near enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take the widow O'Neill by the hand, and then my Lord Colambre 'TRODUCED Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the word NAMESAKE, and something about a check curtains; but, whatever It was, they was all greatly pleased; then my Lord Colambre turned and looked for Brian, who had fell back, and took him with some commendation to my lord his father. And my lord the master said, which I didn't know till after, that they should have their house and farm at the OULD rent; and at the surprise, the widow dropped down dead; and there was a cry as for ten BERRINGS. 'Be qui'te,' says I, 'she's only kilt for joy;' and I went and lift her up, for her son had no more strength that minute than the child new born; and Grace trembled like a leaf, as white as the sheet, but not long, for the mother came to, and was as well as ever when I brought some water, which Miss Nugent handed to her with her own hand.