“Poor girl,” said Daly, “there is no question of it, Darcy, but she must have formed some unfortunate attachment; she had pride enough always to rescue her from the dangers of an unsuitable marriage, but her heart, I feel convinced, was touched, and yet I never could find a clew to it. I suspected something of the kind when she refused Donington,--a handsome fellow, and an old title. I pressed her myself on the subject,--it was the only time I did so,--and I guessed at once, from a chance phrase she dropped, that there had been an old attachment somewhere. Well, well, what a lesson might be read from both our fortunes! The beauty--and you remember how handsome she was--the beauty with a splendid fortune, a reduced maiden lady; and myself”--he heaved a heavy sigh, and, with clasped hands, sat back in the chair, as he added--“the shattered wreck of every hope I once set out with.” The two old men's eyes met, and, although undesignedly, exchanged looks of deepest, most affectionate interest. Daly was the first to rally from his brief access of despondency, and he did so with the physical effort he would have used to shake a load from his shoulders. “Well, Darcy, let us be up and stirring; there's a meeting at Barrington's at two: we must not fail to be there.” “I wish to see Gleeson in the mean while,” said the Knight; “I am uneasy to learn what has been done with Hickman, and what day I can leave town.” “Send Sandy out with a note, and tell him to come to dinner here at six.” “Agreed; nothing could be better; we can talk over our business matters comfortably, and be down at the House by nine or ten.” The note was soon written, and Sandy despatched, with orders to wait for Gleeson's return, in case he should be absent when he arrived. The day for the evening of which was fixed the second reading of the Bill of Union, was a busy one in Dublin. Accounts the most opposite and contradictory were everywhere in circulation: some asserting that the Ministerial majority was certain; others, equally positive, alleging that many of their supposed supporters had lapsed in their allegiance, and that the most enormous offers had been made, without success, to parties hitherto believed amongst the ranks of the Government. The streets were crowded, not by persons engaged in the usual affairs of trade and traffic, but by groups and knots talking eagerly over the coming event, and discussing every rumor that chance or scandal suggested. Various meetings were held in different parts of the town: at some, the Government party were canvassing the modes of reaching the House in safety, and how best they might escape the violence of the mob; at others, the Opposition deliberated on the prospects before them, and by what stratagems the debate might be prolonged till the period when, the Wicklow election over, Mr. Grattan might be expected to take his seat in the House, since, by a trick of “the Castle party,” the writ had been delayed to that very morning.