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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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