pily, indifferent to their tortures. He was
an old, very deaf gentleman, who had figured at the dinner-tables of the
capital for half a century, on no one plea that any one could discover,
save that he was a "Right Honorable." The privilege of sitting at the
Council had conferred the far pleasanter one of assisting at dinners;
and his political career, if not very ambitious, had been, what few men
can say, unruffled.
He seated himself, then, in a very well-cushioned chair, and with that
easy smile of benevolent meaning which certain deaf people assume as
a counterpoise for the want of colloquial gifts, prepared to be, or at
least to look, a very agreeable old gentleman to the next arrival.
A full quarter of an hour passed over, without anything to break the
decorous stillness of the house; when suddenly the door was thrown wide,
and the butler announced Sir Harvey Upton and Captain Jennings. These
were two hussar officers, who entered with that admirable accompaniment
of clinking sabres, sabretaches, and spurs, so essential to a cavalry
appearance.
"Early, by Jove!" cried one, approaching the mirror over the
chimney-piece, and arranging his moustaches, perfectly unmindful of the
presence of the Right Honorable who sat near it.
"They are growing worse and worse in this house, I think," cried the
other. "The last time I dined here, we sat down at a quarter to nine."
"It's all Linton's fault," drawled out the first speaker; "he told a
story about Long Wellesley asking some one for 'ten.' and apologizing
for an early dinner, as he had to speak in the House afterwards. Who is
here? Neat steppers, those horses!"
"It is Kilgoff and his new wife,--do you know her?"
"No; she's not one of those pale girls we used to ride with at
Leamington?"
There was no time for reply, when the names were announced, "Lord and
Lady Kilgoff!" and a very weakly looking old man, with a blue inside
vest, and enormous diamond studs in his shirt, entered, supporting
a very beautiful young woman, whose proud step and glancing eye were
strange contrasts to his feeble and vacant expression. The hussars
exchanged significant but hasty glances, and fell back, while the others
advanced up the room.
"Our excellent hostess," said my Lord, in a low but distinct voice,
"will soon shame Wilton-Crescent itself in late hours. I fancy it 's
nigh eight o'clock."
"It's not their fault, poor things," said she, lying back in a chair and
disposing he
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