By the way, it's seems M'Mahon's wife, of Carriglass, is dead." "Is she ?" said Harry; "that is a respectable family, father, by all accounts." "Why, they neither rob nor steal, I believe," replied his uncle.

"They are like most people, I suppose, honest in the eye of the law--honest because the laws keep them so." "I did not think your opinion of the world was so bad, uncle," said Maria; "I hope it is not so bad as you say it is." "All I can say, then," replied the old Cynic, "that if you wait till you find an honest man for your husband, you'll die an old maid." "Well, but excuse me, uncle, is that safe doctrine to lay down before your nephew, or myself ?" "Pooh, as to you, you silly girl, what have you to do with it?
We're taikin' about men, now--about the world, I say, and life in general." "And don't you wish Harry to be honest ?" "Yes, where it is his interest; and ditto to roguery, where it can be done safely." "I know you don't feel what you say, uncle," she observed, "nor believe it either." "Not he, Maria," said her brother, awakening out of a reverie; "but, uncle, as to Hycy Burke--I don't--hem." "You don't what ?" asked the other, rising and staring at him.
His nephew looked at his sister, and was silent.
"You don't mean what, man ?--always speak out.

Here, help me on with this coat.

Fethertonge and I are taking a ride up tomorrow as far as Ahadarra." "That's a man I don't like," said the nephew.

"He's too soft and too sweet, and speaks too low to be honest." "Honest, you blockhead! Who says he's honest ?" replied his uncle.