Humours of Irish Life Part 13

"Then I say, done!"

"And with you, too, O'Malley?"

"I thank you," said I, coldly; "I'm not disposed to make such a return for Sir George Dashwood's hospitality as to make an insult to his family the subject of a bet."

"Why, man, what are you dreaming of? Miss Dashwood will not refuse my chaste salute. Come, Power, I will give you the other pony."

"Agreed," said he. "At the same time, understand me distinctly--that I hold myself perfectly eligible to winning the wager by my own interference; for, if you do kiss her, I'll perform the remainder of the compact."

"So I understand the agreement," said Webber, and off he went.

I have often dressed for a storming party with less of trepidation than I felt on the evening of Sir George Dashwood's ball. It was long since I had seen Miss Dashwood; therefore, as to what precise position I might occupy in her favour was a matter of great doubt in my mind, and great import to my happiness.

Our quadrille over, I was about to conduct her to a seat, when Sir George came hurriedly up, his face greatly flushed, and betraying every semblance of high excitement.

"Read this," said he, presenting a very dirty-looking note.

Miss Dashwood unfolded the billet, and after a moment's silence, burst out a-laughing, while she said, "Why, really, papa, I do not see why this should put you out much, after all. Aunt may be somewhat of a character, as her note evinces; but after a few days----',

"Nonsense, child; there's nothing in this world I have such a dread of as this--and to come at such a time! O'Malley, my boy, read this note, and you will not feel surprised if I appear in the humour you see me."

I read as follows:--

"Dear brother,--When this reaches your hand I'll not be far off. I'm on my way up to town, to be under Dr. Dease for the ould complaint.

Expect me to tea; and, with love to Lucy, believe me, yours in haste,

"Judith Macan.

"Let the sheets be well aired in my room; and if you have a spare bed, perhaps you could prevail upon Father Magrath to stop, too."

I scarcely could contain my laughter till I got to the end of this very free-and-easy epistle, when at last I burst forth in a hearty fit, in which I was joined by Miss Dashwood.

"I say, Lucy," said Sir George, "there's only one thing to be done. If this horrid woman does arrive, let her be shown to her room, and for the few days of her stay in town, we'll neither see nor be seen by anyone."

Without waiting for a reply he was turning away, when the servant announced, in his loudest voice, "Miss Macan."

No sooner had the servant p.r.o.nounced the magical name than all the company present seemed to stand still. About two steps in advance of the servant was a tall, elderly lady, dressed in an antique brocade silk, with enormous flowers gaudily embroidered upon it. Her hair was powdered and turned back, in the fas.h.i.+on of fifty years before. Her short, skinny arms were bare, while on her hands she wore black silk mittens; a pair of green spectacles scarcely dimmed the l.u.s.tre of a most piercing pair of eyes, to whose effect a very palpable touch of rouge on the cheeks certainly added brilliancy. There she stood, holding before her a fan about the size of a modern tea-tray, while at each repet.i.tion of her name by the servant she curtseyed deeply.

Sir George, armed with the courage of despair, forced his way through the crowd, and taking her hand affectionately, bid her welcome to Dublin. The fair Judy, at this, threw her arms about his neck, and saluted him with a hearty smack, that was heard all over the room.

"Where's Lucy, brother? Let me see my little darling," said the lady, in a decided accent. "There she is, I'm sure; kiss me, my honey."

This office Miss Dashwood performed with an effort at courtesy really admirable; while, taking her aunt's arm, she led her to a sofa.

Power made his way towards Miss Dashwood, and succeeded in obtaining a formal introduction to Miss Macan.

"I hope you will do me the favour to dance next set with me, Miss Macan?"

"Really, Captain, it's very polite of you, but you must excuse me. I was never anything great in quadrilles: but if a reel or a jig----"

"Oh, dear aunt, don't think of it, I beg of you!"

"Or even Sir Roger de Coverley," resumed Miss Macan.

"I a.s.sure you, quite equally impossible."

"Then I'm certain you waltz," said Power.

"What do you take me for, young man? I hope I know better. I wish Father Magrath heard you ask me that question; and for all your laced jacket----"

"Dearest aunt, Captain Power didn't mean to offend you; I'm certain he----"

"Well, why did he dare to--(sob, sob)--did he see anything light about me, that he--(sob, sob, sob)--oh, dear! oh, dear! is it for this I came up from my little peaceful place in the West?--(sob, sob, sob)--General, George, dear; Lucy, my love, I'm taken bad. Oh, dear! oh, dear! is there any whiskey negus?"

After a time she was comforted.

At supper later on in the evening, I was deep in thought when a dialogue quite near me aroused me from my reverie.

"Don't, now! don't, I tell ye; it's little ye know Galway, or ye wouldn't think to make up to me, squeezing my foot."

"You're an angel, a regular angel. I never saw a woman suit my fancy before."

"Oh, behave now. Father Magrath says----"

"Who's he?"

"The priest; no less."

"Oh! bother him."

"Bother Father Magrath, young man?"

"Well, then, Judy, don't be angry; I only means that a dragoon knows rather more of these matters than a priest."

"Well, then, I'm not so sure of that. But, anyhow, I'd have you to remember it ain't a Widow Malone you have beside you."

"Never heard of the lady," said Power.

"Sure, it's a song--poor creature--it's a song they made about her in the North Cork when they were quartered down in our county."

"I wish you'd sing it."

"What will you give me, then, if I do?"

"Anything--everything--my heart--my life."

"I wouldn't give a trauneen for all of them. Give me that old green ring on your finger, then."