is now the Chief Justice of Ireland. It was soon ferreted out. The man who had been turned away from the gate, or his son, applied for assistance to the new but temporary heir, asking for the modest sum of fifteen hundred pounds. The other protested it was out of his power, adding, reasonably enough, that his position was very uncertain; and that another trial might displace him. The other at once went over to the enemy, offering his services, and also placing at her disposal all their papers. Here was the clue. Among those papers she had found this returned and unopened letter, and had turned it to the clever use described. With such a woman, too much care and secrecy could not be observed. Not a whisper was breathed, and further investigations were made with a view to the last struggle.
Meanwhile, acting on the verdict of the Wexford jury, the Irish Chancellor had placed the heir-at-law in possession of the old abbey. It was now, indeed, a "rat-hole," for the dry rot of Chancery had set in. The intrepid widow, frustrated for the moment in her designs on the estate, had swept the house clear of every "stick," as the phrase goes, of furniture. The new owner had to patch here and there, fit up a room or two, and could at best but comfort himself with but a temporary tenancy. He had excellent advisers, skilful counsel, who were working hard; but all felt that here was the fatal blemish in the case. The late Cæsar, disliked his relatives; disliked the man whose very daughter was now heir-at-law, having fought a duel with him. What undue influence was there required to get him to leave away his estates from such persons? It was felt that victory would be with her: as the victory would assuredly have been, but for her own over finesse, and a strange incident, that seems to belong to Mr. Harrison Ainsworth. The temporary owner then, with a heavy heart, was cheaply papering up a room or two, when a workman noticed a sort of half open panel, much in shape like the slit of a letter-box. Into this he carelessly thrust his brush to "rack" out the dust accumulations, just as painters are fond of doing. Out dropped a bundle of old papers, which the painter brushed aside, and later pointed out to a servant. The servant brought them to his master, who brought them to the solicitor in the cause, who all but shouted with delight as he showed them to his counsel. The lady, "casting away" every stick of furniture, had forgotten to search this precious receptacle. The solicitor hurried with these priceless papers to London, went to a nameless printer, had them printed, and jealously hidden away, and when the counsel received his brief, it was a surprise to find a clasp-lock and key attached to the book.
Meanwhile the new trial began down at Wexford. It was felt that, even with the great prejudices of the jury against the lady, still her case was almost irresistible. Even if defeated by the Wexford jury, she would have "the Lords" to go to once more. Her leading counsel again put her case forward, restated the reasonableness of her influence, and, above all, the unanswerable argument that this branch of the testator's house could have no claim on him, simply because he detested them, and was never reconciled to them. This, again, seemed to settle the case. The lady herself was produced, boldly and defiantly told her story about the letter, and seemed to convince every one. But she was cross-examined vigorously and with amazing power, by Mr. Whiteside. Amid a tumult of anger, refusal to answer, denial, &c., the truth about the letter was wrung from her. Then came the counsel on the other side, restraining himself up to that time, and never had counsel so exquisite a moment of triumph. If there had, said the other counsel, been relations that he liked, or regarded, the influence would have been improper, and the will should go down. In a deliberate and restrained way, the other counsel had the satisfaction of answering this challenge. One by one, from the locked book, were read, not one, not a dozen, but a whole series of the most affectionate letters, between the two Cæsars, who had fought the duel; they had been reconciled, and no one could listen without being convinced that to the child of the Chief Justice the testator could have had no hostility. The feelings of the counsel on the other side, as this fatal shell burst among them, were too strong for even the well trained dissimulation of lawyers. Over those veteran faces was speedily spreading the most palpable confusion, disappointment, and mortification. Very rapidly the triumphant case broke up, and the lady, who but five minutes before was certain of her ten thousand a year, was glad to accept a compromise of some twenty thousand pounds cash which was lying in the bank.
On these trifling gains the lady retired from the contest, and has since, it is believed, married some foreign gentleman; but such a defeat on the eve of victory must have destroyed all future enjoyment. Thus did a second woman of determination figure as a heroine in a battle for an estate and power. Later on we shall follow the fortunes of a third.
GIPSY GLIMPSES.
The writer, going down to spend last Christmas in one of the midland counties, soon heard that a portion of a true gipsy tribe had encamped in the town, on a spare bit of land usually occupied by travelling circuses and similar troups of performers. They received visitors into their ground at the small charge of threepence each, with the hope of extracting larger sums by coaxing, flattery, or fortune-telling. It was Christmas Eve when we went to see them. It had been the weekly market-day, and the gipsies had made themselves conspicuous in the market by their lavish purchases of the very best and dearest articles in it, and, to the great astonishment of the doubting market-women, by paying indisputably
