Sir Harvey's visit lasted full twenty minutes longer; and although no record has been preserved of what passed on the occasion, they who met him descending the stairs all agreed in describing his appearance as most gloomy and despondent. As for Olivia, she saw the door close after him with a something very like sorrow. There was no love in the case, nor anything within a day's journey of it; but he was good-looking, fashionable, well-mannered, and mustachioed. She would have been “my lady,” too; and though this is but a “brevet nobility” after all, it has all “the sound of the true metal.” She thought over all these things; and she thought, besides, how very sad he looked when she said “No;” and, how much sadder, when asked the usual question about “time, and proved devotion, and all that sort of thing,” she said “No,” again; and how, saddest of all, when she made the stereotyped little speech about “sisterly affection, and seeing him happy with another!” Oh dear! oh dear! is it not very wearisome and depressing to think that chess can have some hundred thousand combinations, and love-making but its two or three “gambits,”--the “fool's-mate” the chief of them? We have said she was sorry for what had occurred; but she consoled herself by remembering it was not her fault that Sir Harvey was not as rich as Cashel, and nephew to a live uncle! As Sir Harvey's “lady”--Heaven forgive me, I had almost written “wife”--she would have been the envy of a very large circle of her Dublin acquaintance; and then she knew that these dragoon people have a way of making their money go so much further than civilians; and in all that regards horses, equipage, and outward show, the smartest “mufti” is a seedy affair beside the frogs of the new regulation pelisse! She actually began to feel misgivings about her choice. A high drag at the Howth races, a crowd of whiskered fellows of “ours,” and the band of the regiment in Merrion Square, came home to her “dear Dublin” imagination with irresistible fascination. In her mind's eye, she had already cut the “bar,” and been coldly distant with the infantry. It was a little revery of small triumphs, but the sum of them mounted up to something considerable. “Is he gone, Livy?” said Cary, as, entering noiselessly, she stole behind her sister's chair. “Yes, dear, he is gone!” said she, sighing slightly. “My poor forlorn damsel, don't take his absence so much to heart! You 're certain to see him at dinner!” “He said he'd leave this afternoon,” said she, gravely; “that he could n't bear to meet me after what had passed.” “And what has passed, child?” “You know, of course, Cary; I refused him!” “Refused him!--refused him!--what possessed you to do so?” “This!” said Olivia, gasping with terror at the unknown danger; and she caught hold of the fringe of her sister's scarf. Miss Kennyfeck started, and put her hand to her neck, and, suddenly letting it fall again, she leaned against the wall for support.