“Shake hands, Mark,” said Sally, in a deep masculine voice; “don't bear malice, though I did pitch you out of the boat that day.” Mark was however, happily, too much engaged with his friend to have heard the speech. He was eagerly listening to Maitland's account of his first meeting with the Grahams. “My lucky star was in the ascendant; for there I stood,” said Maitland, “in the great square of Bally--Bally--” “Ballymena,” broke in Beck; “and there's no great square in the place; but you stood in a very dirty stable-yard, in a much greater passion than such a fine gentleman should ever give way to.” “Calling, 'A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse!'” “It was 'a chaise and pair' _I_ heard, and you were well laughed at for your demand. The baker offered you a seat, which you rejected with dismay; and, to tell the truth, it was half in the hope of witnessing another outburst of your indignation that I went across and said, 'Would you accept a place beside me, sir?'” “And was I not overwhelmed with joy? Was it not in a transport of gratitude that I embraced your offer?” “I know you very nearly embraced my maid as you lifted her off the car.” “And, by the way, where is Patience?” asked Mrs. Trafford. “She's coming on, some fashion, with the swell's luggage,” added she, dropping her voice to a whisper,--“eight trunks, eleven carpet-bags, and four dressing-boxes, besides what I thought was a show-box, but is only a shower-bath.” “My people will take every care of her,” said Maitland. “Is Fenton still with you?” asked Mark. “Yes; he had some thoughts of leaving me lately. He said he thought he 'd like to retire,--that he 'd take a consulate or a barrack-mastership; but I laughed him out of it.” Sir Arthur and Lady Lyle had now come down to welcome the new arrivals; and greetings and welcomes and felicitations resounded on all sides. “Come along with me, Maitland,” said Mark, hurrying his friend away. “Let me show you your quarters;” and as he moved off, he added, “What a piece of ill-luck it was that you should have chanced upon the greatest bores of our acquaintance!--people so detestable to me that if I had n't been expecting your visit I 'd have left the house this morning.” “I don't know that,” said Maitland, half languidly; “perhaps I have grown more tolerant, or more indifferent,--what may be another name for the same thing; but I rather liked the young women. Have we any more stairs to mount?” “No; here you are;” and Mark reddened a little at the impertinent question. “I have put you here because this was an old _garçon_ apartment I had arranged for myself; and you have your bath-room yonder, and your servant, on the other side of the terrace.” “It's all very nice, and seems very quiet,” said Maitland. “As to that, you'll not have to complain; except the plash of the sea at the foot of those cliffs, you 'll never hear a sound here.”