Though all this while we continued to carry on most pleasantly, Mrs. Dalrymple, I could perceive, did not entirely sympathize with our projects of amusement. As an experienced engineer might feel when watching the course of some storming projectile--some brilliant congreve--flying over a besieged fortress, yet never touching the walls nor harming the inhabitants, so she looked on at all these demonstrations of attack with no small impatience, and wondered when would the breach be reported practicable. Another puzzle also contributed its share of anxiety,--which of the girls was it? To be sure, he spent three hours every morning with Fanny; but then, he never left Matilda the whole evening. He had given his miniature to one; a locket with his hair was a present to the sister. The major thinks he saw his arm round Matilda’s waist in the garden; the housemaid swears she saw him kiss Fanny in the pantry. Matilda smiles when we talk of his name with her sister’s; Fanny laughs outright, and says, “Poor Matilda! the man never dreamed of her.” This is becoming uncomfortable. The major must ask his intentions. It is certainly one or the other; but then, we have a right to know which. Such was a very condensed view of Mrs. Dalrymple’s reflections on this important topic,--a view taken with her usual tact and clear-sightedness. Matters were in this state when Power at length arrived in Cork, to take command of our detachment and make the final preparations for our departure. I had been, as usual, spending the evening at the major’s, and had just reached my quarters, when I found my friend sitting at my fire, smoking his cigar and solacing himself with a little brandy-and-water. “At last,” said he, as I entered,--“at last! Why, where the deuce have you been till this hour,--past two o’clock? There is no ball, no assembly going on, eh?” “No,” said I, half blushing at the eagerness of the inquiry; “I’ve been spending the evening with a friend.” “Spending the evening! Say, rather, the night! Why, confound you, man, what is there in Cork to keep you out of bed till near three?” “Well, if you must know, I have been supping at a Major Dalrymple’s,--a devilish good fellow, with two such daughters!” “Ahem!” said Power, shutting one eye knowingly, and giving a look like a Yorkshire horse-dealer. “Go on.” “Why, what do you mean?” “Go on; continue.” “I’ve finished; I’ve nothing more to tell.” “So, they’re here, are they?” said he, reflectingly. “Who?” said I. “Matilda and Fanny, to be sure.” “Why, you know them, then?” “I should think I do.” “Where have you met them?” “Where have I not? When I was in the Rifles they were quartered at Zante. Matilda was just then coming it rather strong with Villiers, of ours, a regular greenhorn. Fanny, also, nearly did for Harry Nesbitt, by riding a hurdle race. Then they left for Gibraltar, in the year,--what year was it?”