When the ladies entered their breakfasting room the morning after their arrival in Dublin, they found it fragrant with the most delightful flowers; and the tables presented specimens of the finest fruits this city could boast of. Adelaide quickly recognized Colonel Desmond's habitual attention to the fair sex; whilst Mrs. Sullivan exclaimed, "A fine bill I'll varrant me for all these here kick-shaws:--I'll ring for the waiter to take them away." Her hand was on the bell, when Cecilia stopped her, by declaring she could eat nothing but fruit. "Who would have dreamt of seeing hot-house fruit in _Ireland_! Those flowers will keep me from fainting this hot day; don't send them away, mama:--unless I have every agreement you can procure me, I shan't be able to exist in the odious country you have dragged me over to." By this time Adelaide descried a note directed to herself on the breakfast table; the stalk of a _rose unique_ was slipped into it, and on the outside was written in pencil, "Herself a fairer flower." She smiled at the gallant colonel's compliment, and found her note contained a polite _congÈ_ from Mrs. St. Orme, who much regretted being obliged to leave Dublin at too early an hour to bid her adieu in person; but expressed a flattering wish, that an opportunity might occur for cultivating their further acquaintance. Adelaide, throwing down her note on the table as soon as she had read it, turned to examine the beautiful bouquets that adorned the flower stands; and every individual of the Webberly family took the opportunity of making themselves _au fait_ of its contents. Had they been caught in the fact, they would hardly have felt ashamed, for any thing short of a _letter_, their code of the laws of honour permitted them to peruse. "A _letter_ they would not read for the world"--when any body was looking at them!