“Need you ask? In the bridge-room, of course.” “I wonder what she would say to the stir the girl is making? By gad!”--watching her as she passed by. “And who is the fellow with her?” “Lady Barre’s nephew; his name is Doran.” “Irish! Well, no Irish need apply--her ladyship is booked for Dudley Deverell. By the way, I see him here playing the fool with the Fullerton woman.” Dudley Deverell observed from afar, and marvelled. So Joseline had got hold of Doran. Such a smart, good-looking chap--and Joseline was undeniably admired. Oh, yes, she was all very well--until she began to talk! “It is a pity you can’t waltz,” remarked Ulick, as they looked on; “but you will learn in no time.” “I’m no good. I can do nothing like other people. I can’t ride, or dance, or play bridge, or tell pleasant lies to people’s faces without turning a hair, or even pretend I like those I can’t bear.” “Oh, all those things will come easy to you, bar the hypocrisy. It was strange our meeting here to-night,” he said. “Our meeting--and parting,” she added quickly. “Why parting?” “Because you are going to America, and I am going to France. Yes”--in answer to his look--“as soon as my father returns, next week, I believe. You know, I’m half French and half English.” “Yes, and half-hearted.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you don’t seem happy.” “That’s true. Ye see how it is; I’m neither fish, flesh, nor fowl. Too fine for the folks in Ireland, and not up to the mark over here. I was twenty-one years too long in a cottage. I will never be a lady.” “Would you like to return to the Corner, and be Mary Foley?” “Oh no, I could never go back to that,” she answered with emphasis. “There is my father, who is more than good to me; and Tito too. But I’m not denying, that I don’t care very much for the crowd in the house.” “I daresay not. I know the set; you are a bit out of it?” “I am so--and so best! In Ireland the people laughed with me. Here they laugh _at_ me. Oh, it’s a sore change!” she concluded, in a miserable voice. “Surely you need not trouble your head, or think about them.” “But I’ve not much else to think of just now, being hand-idle. Tell me,” she added eagerly, “what did _you_ think now, when you saw me?” “My first impression when I caught sight of you was, ‘Splendid isolation.’ Then I had a curious sense, of something foreseen.” “I can’t understand them grand words.” “Are you aware, Major Doran, that you have cut my dance?” said a sharp voice, and there was Miss Tripp and her partner standing beside them. “Number eleven, I think,” he faltered, hurriedly pulling out his programme. “No, number ten. I see that you agree with Lady Joseline, who simply came to the ball to sit out”; and she accorded the girl a deadly glance. “I’m sorry, Miss Tripp,” he said. “Pray accept my most abject apologies.”