f
conveying it to her. There was no regret even pretended for his early
death, no sympathy expressed with Fanny's sorrow. And there was,
moreover, an evident conviction in the minds of all the three, that
Frank, of course, looked on the accident as a piece of unalloyed
good fortune--a splendid windfall in his way, unattended with any
disagreeable concomitants. This grated against his feelings, and made
him conscious that he was not yet heartless enough to be quite fit for,
the society in which he found himself.

The party soon went into the dining-room; and Frank at first got a
little ease, for Fanny Wyndham seemed to be forgotten in the willing
devotion which was paid to Blake's soup; the interest of the fish,
also, seemed to be absorbing; and though conversation became more
general towards the latter courses, still it was on general subjects,
as long as the servants were in the room. But, much to his annoyance,
his mistress again came on the tapis [26], together with the claret.

[FOOTNOTE 26: A tapis was a small cloth or tapestry sometimes
used to cover a table; hence the expression "on
the tapis" meant "on the table" or "under
consideration."]

"You and Kilcullen don't hit it off together--eh, Ballindine?" said
Mat.

"We never quarrelled," answered Frank; "we never, however, were very
intimate."

"I wonder at that, for you're both fond of the turf. There's a large
string of his at Murphy's now, isn't there, Dot?"

"Too many, I believe," said Blake. "If you've a mind to be a purchaser,
you'll find him a very pleasant fellow--especially if you don't object
to his own prices."

"Faith I'll not trouble him," said Mat; "I've two of them already, and
a couple on the turf and a couple for the saddle are quite enough to
suit me. But what the deuce made him say, so publicly, that your match
was off, Ballindine? He couldn't have heard of Wyndham's death at the
time, or I should think he was after the money himself."

"I cannot tell; he certainly had not my authority," said Frank.

"Nor the lady's either, I hope."

"You had better ask herself, Tierney; and, if she rejects me, maybe
she'll take you."

"There's a speculation for you," said Blake; "you don't think yourself
too old yet, I hope, to make your fortune by marriage?--and, if you
don't, I'm sure Miss Wyndham can't."

"I tell you what, Dot, I admire Miss Wyndham much, and I admire a
hundred th