When these motley groupes assembled on deck, it was agreed by most it would be much better to take boats to Dunleary, than to wait for the returning tide to land at the Pigeon House, which is the regular station appointed for the packets. Adelaide now offered her arm to Mrs. Sullivan, who had just ascended the cabin stairs in a rueful condition. Her face was indeed the emblem of "green and yellow melancholy." Somebody had done her the favour to sit upon her hat, and had bent its white plume in every direction; her habit was crumpled up in a thousand folds, and the queen of Otaheite herself could not have boasted of more feathers than adorned it in detached spots. Mr. Webberly, who accompanied his mother and sisters upon deck, as he looked at Adelaide's lovely face, blooming with the freshness of the sea air, said to himself, "Well, Miss Wildenheim must have his Majesty's patent in her pocket to be so beautiful, when all the other women look so bad. Sister Cilly is as ugly as old Mother Shipton this morning; and as for Meely, she's enough to frighten the crows. I wonder what business that Colonel Desmond has to talk to Miss Wildenheim so--he's too civil by half; I've a month's mind to tell him so; and how she does smile and show her white teeth at him. I see nothing so diverting about him, not I." "Jack!" said his mother, interrupting his reverie, "Miss Wildenheim has dissuaded me to go in that 'ere boat;--do get our band-boxes put in it. They say we mustn't take none of our trunks, neither one of the carriages. I suspect me they're playing tricks upon travellers; and if so be, I'll take the law of them as sure as my name's Hannah Silliwan. The ship may sail away with all our things afore ever we can send the constables after it.--They say the Irish are a sad set of rogues. I vish I vas safe back in Lunnon again."