“Who is he?” added he, in nearly as loud a tone to Sir George. “Mr. O’Malley, of O’Malley Castle.” “True, I forgot; why is he not in uniform?” “Because, unfortunately, my Lord, we don’t own him; he’s not in the army.” “Ha! ha! thought he was.” “You dance, O’Malley, I suppose? I’m sure you’d rather be over there than hearing all my protestations of gratitude, sincere and heartfelt as they really are.” “Lechmere, introduce my friend, Mr. O’Malley; get him a partner.” I had not followed my new acquaintance many steps, when Power came up to me. “I say, Charley,” cried he, “I have been tormented to death by half the ladies in the room to present you to them, and have been in quest of you this half-hour. Your brilliant exploit in savage land has made you a regular _preux chevalier_; and if you don’t trade on that adventure to your most lasting profit, you deserve to be--a lawyer. Come along here! Lady Muckleman, the adjutant-general’s lady and chief, has four Scotch daughters you are to dance with; then I am to introduce you in all form to the Dean of Something’s niece,--she is a good-looking girl, and has two livings in a safe county. Then there’s the town-major’s wife; and, in fact, I have several engagements from this to supper-time.” “A thousand thanks for all your kindness in prospective, but I think, perhaps, it were right I should ask Miss Dashwood to dance, if only as a matter of form,--you understand?” “And if Miss Dashwood should say, ‘With pleasure, sir,’ only as a matter of form,--you understand?” said a silvery voice beside me. I turned, and saw Lucy Dashwood, who, having overheard my free-and-easy suggestion, replied to me in this manner. I here blundered out my excuses. What I said, and what I did not say, I do not now remember; but certainly, it was her turn now to blush, and her arm trembled within mine as I led her to the top of the room. In the little opportunity which our quadrille presented for conversation, I could not help remarking that, after the surprise of her first meeting with me, Miss Dashwood’s manner became gradually more and more reserved, and that there was an evident struggle between her wish to appear grateful for what had occurred, with a sense of the necessity of not incurring a greater degree of intimacy. Such was my impression, at least, and such the conclusion I drew from a certain quiet tone in her manner that went further to wound my feelings and mar my happiness than any other line of conduct towards me could possibly have effected. Our quadrille over, I was about to conduct her to a seat, when Sir George came hurriedly up, his face greatly flushed, and betraying every semblance of high excitement. “Dear Papa, has anything occurred? Pray what is it?” inquired she. He smiled faintly, and replied, “Nothing very serious, my dear, that I should alarm you in this way; but certainly, a more disagreeable _contretemps_ could scarcely occur.” “Do tell me: what can it be?”