“Charles,” said he, “I must have a dance with this beautiful girl; do you think she will dance with me?” “I cannot tell,” replied his brother, “but you can ask her.” “By the way, where are my father and the rest? They have left the room.” “The landlord has got them a small apartment,” replied Charles, “where they are now enjoying themselves. If you dance with Grace Davoren, however, be on your good behavior, for if you take any unbecoming liberties with her, you may repent it; don't imagine because you see these humble girls allowing their sweethearts to kiss them in corners, that either they or their friends will permit you to do so.” “That's as it may be managed, perhaps,” said Woodward, who immediately approached Grace in imitation of what he had seen, and making her a low bow, said, “I dance to you, Miss Davoren, if you will favor me.” She was then sitting, but immediately rose up, with a blushing but gratified face, and replied, “I will, sir, but I'm not worthy to dance with a gentleman like you.” “You are worthy to dance with a prince,” he replied, as he led her to their station, fronting the music. “Well, my pretty girl,” said he, “what do you wish?” “Your will, sir, is my pleasure.” “Very well. Piper,” said he, “play up 'Kiss my lady;'” which was accordingly done, and the dance commenced. Woodward thought the most popular thing he could do was to affect no superiority over the young fellows present, but, on the contrary, to imitate their style and manner of dancing as well as he could; and in this he acted with great judgment. They felt flattered and gratified even at his awkward and clumsy imitations of their steps, and received his efforts with much laughter and cheering; nor was Grace herself insensible to the mirth he occasioned. On he went, cutting and capering, until he had them in convulsions; and when the dance was ended, he seized his partner in his arms, swung her three times round, and imprinted a kiss upon her lips with such good humor that he was highly applauded. He then ordered in drink to treat her and her friends, which he distributed to them with his own hand; and after contriving to gain a few minutes' private chat with Grace, he amply rewarded the piper. He was now about to take his leave and proceed with his brother, when two women, one about thirty-five, and the other far advanced in years, both accosted him almost at the same moment. “Your honor won't go,” said the less aged of the two, “until you get your fortune tould.” “To be sure he won't, Caterine,” they all replied; “we'll engage the gentleman will cross your hand wid silver, like his father before him, his heart's not in the money.” “Never mind her, sir,” said the aged crone, “she's a schemer, and will tell you nothing but what she knows will plaise you. Show me your hand, sir, and I'll tell you the truth.” “Never mind the _calliagh_, sir, (old woman, by way of reproach;) she's dotin', and hasn't remembered her own name these ten years.”