.'

Happily the table behind which he stood was one of those old-fashioned
toilet affairs, with the back part, which was turned toward the door,
sheeted over with wood, so that his ungartered stockings and rascally
old slippers, were invisible. Even so, it was bad enough: he was arrayed
in a shabby old silk roquelaire, and there was a towel upon his breast,
pinned behind his neck. He had just a second to pop the basin under the
table, and to whisk the towel violently from under his chin, drying that
feature with merciless violence; when the officious Judy Carrol, Grand
Chamberlain in Jerome's absence, with the facetious grin of a
good-natured lady about to make two people happy, introduced the
bewitching Magnolia, and her meek little uncle, Major O'Neill.

In they came, rejoicing, to ask the gallant fireworker (it was a
different element just now), to make one of a party of pleasure to
Leixlip. O'Flaherty could not so much as hand the young lady a chair; to
emerge from behind the table, or even to attempt a retreat, was of
course not to be thought of in the existing state of affairs. The action
of Puddock's recipe was such as to make his share in the little
complimentary conversation that ensued very indistinct, and to oblige
him, to his disgrace and despair, when the poor fellow tried a smile,
actually to apply his towel hastily to his mouth.

He saw that his visitors observed those symptoms with some perplexity:
the major was looking steadfastly at O'Flaherty's lips, and
unconsciously making corresponding movements with his own, and the fair
Magnolia was evidently full of pleasant surprise and curiosity. I really
think, if O'Flaherty had had a pistol within reach, he would have been
tempted to deliver himself summarily from that agonising situation.

'I'm afraid, lieutenant, you've got the toothache,' said Miss Mag, with
her usual agreeable simplicity.

In his alacrity to assure her there was no such thing, he actually
swallowed one of the bags. 'Twas no easy matter, and he grew very red,
and stared frightfully, and swallowed a draught of water precipitately.
His misery was indeed so great that at the conclusion of a polite little
farewell speech of the major's, he uttered an involuntary groan, and
lively Miss Mag, with an odious titter, exclaimed--

'The little creature's teething, uncle, as sure as you're not; either
that, or he's got a hot potato in his poor little mouzey-wouzey;' and
poor O'Flaherty smiled a