“Tea or coffee, Sir Ulick O’Shane, for the third time of asking?” cried a sharp female voice from the remote tea-table. “Wouldn’t you swear to that being the voice of a presbyterian?” whispered Sir Ulick, over his shoulder to the curate: then aloud he replied to the lady, “Miss Black, you are three times too obliging. Neither tea nor coffee I’ll take from you to-night, I thank you kindly.” “Fortunate for yourself, sir--for both are as cold as stones--and no wonder!” said Miss Black. “No wonder!” echoed Lady O’Shane, looking at her watch, and sending forth an ostentatious sigh. “What o’clock is it by your ladyship?” asked Miss Black. “I have a notion it’s tremendously late.” “No matter--we are not pinned to hours in this house, Miss Black,” said Sir Ulick, walking up to the tea-table, and giving her a look, which said as plainly as look could say, “You had better be quiet.” Lady O’Shane followed her husband, and putting her arm within his, began to say something in a fondling tone; and in a most conciliatory manner she went on talking to him for some moments. He looked absent, and replied coldly. “I’ll take a cup of coffee from you now, Miss Black,” said he, drawing away his arm from his wife, who looked much mortified. “We are too long, Lady O’Shane,” added he, “standing here like lovers, talking to no one but ourselves--awkward in company.” “_Like lovers!_” The sound pleased poor Lady O’Shane’s ear, and she smiled for the first time this night--Lady O’Shane was perhaps the last woman in the room whom a stranger would have guessed to be Sir Ulick’s wife. He was a fine gallant _off-hand_ looking Irishman, with something of _dash_ in his tone and air, which at first view might lead a common observer to pronounce him to be vulgar; but at five minutes after sight, a good judge of men and manners would have discovered in him the power of assuming whatever manner he chose, from the audacity of the callous profligate to the deference of the accomplished courtier--the capability of adapting his conversation to his company and his views, whether his object were “to set the senseless table in a roar,” or to insinuate himself into the delicate female heart. Of this latter power, his age had diminished but not destroyed the influence. The fame of former conquests still operated in his favour, though he had long since passed his splendid meridian of gallantry.