“I don’t mean over in Ireland,” he protested; and his glance wandered to where Dudley was permitting a pretty woman to entertain him. “Oh, that!” A pause; and she added, with a touch of her natural impulsiveness, “I wouldn’t marry him if he was hung in diamonds, nor he me; he is afraid of his life of me.” “Why, what have you been doing to frighten him?” “Always saying and doing the wrong thing. You see, I’m so ignorant, and when people make signs at me, ’tis worse I get.” “What do you call the wrong thing? Can you give me a specimen?” “Well, talking to Lady Boxhill of wigs, and age, and to Mrs. Fullerton of divorce, and to Sir Harry Coxford of debt and people owing money. I mean no harm, God knows! but I frighten people, and I make them hate me”; and her lip trembled, and her eyes were brimming. “I am sure no one could do that,” he protested. “Oh, but they can! I’m such a clumsy fool. And faix, your own mother wasn’t too fond of me! All the same, I hope she is getting her health?” “Yes; but I’m sorry to say Barker is giving her a lot of trouble.” “Well, she has him as she reared him! I suppose about the big lump of a girl that’s barmaid over in Killarney?” “He has married her.” “I am glad he had that much decency.” “And he insists on bringing her home. It’s a terrible trial to my mother.” “Well, if I’m not mistaken there will be two of them in that trial. And what have you been doing with yourself?” “Soldiering in India, and other places--and twice to America, to see my aunt Nora. I am going over again immediately. She is a widow now.” “That was she that came in one soft evening in the old blue cloak. I took her down to ‘The Arms.’ Mrs. Hogan told me about her. She must have got a queer sort of shock when your mother chased her out of the Castle.” “I think she has forgiven and forgotten. Now would you like to take a turn, and see the other rooms and the dancing?” “Yes, I would”--rising with graceful alacrity. “I suppose this is your first ball?” he continued, as they stepped into the stream of moving figures, a remarkably distinguished-looking pair. Joseline held herself well, and looked every inch the daughter of a hundred earls. Not a few people remarked her, and asked, “Who was the beauty?” In fact, she made a sort of triumphal progress, as she moved about the rooms, the loveliest of visions. The fame of her remarkable story, and the presence of her beauty, filled the air. No one who saw Lady Joseline, would believe that she was stupid, common, uneducated, and muddleheaded. Ulick Doran, her escort, was conscious of the sensation caused by his companion. Admirers crowded about Mrs. Hampton, clamouring for an introduction to the charming heroine of a romantic tale; but among them her cavalier still held his ground, and would not yield his place. “I say, what a find for Mulgrave!” muttered one county magnate to a neighbour. “Yes. I’m not sure that Lady M. is delighted with his discovery. Where is she?”