ow she was happy.

And little Lily drew towards the dancers, and Devereux by her side--not
to join in the frolic; it was much pleasanter talking. But the merry
thrum and jingle of the tambourine, and vivacious squeak of the fiddles,
and the incessant laughter and prattle of the gay company were a sort of
protection. And perhaps she fancied that within that pleasant and
bustling circle, the discourse, which was to her so charming, might be
longer maintained. It was music heard in a dream--strange and sweet--and
might never come again.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 1: These little verses have been several times set to music,
and last and very sweetly, by Miss Elizabeth Philp.]

CHAPTER XXV.

IN WHICH THE SUN SETS, AND THE MERRY-MAKING IS KEPT UP BY CANDLE-LIGHT
IN THE KING'S HOUSE, AND LILY RECEIVES A WARNING WHICH SHE DOES NOT
COMPREHEND.

Dr. Toole, without whom no jollification of any sort could occur
satisfactorily in Chapelizod or the country round, was this evening at
the 'King's House,' of course, as usual, with his eyes about him and his
tongue busy; and at this moment he was setting Cluffe right about
Devereux's relation to the title and estates of Athenry. His uncle
Roland Lord Athenry was, as everybody knew, a lunatic--Toole used to
call him Orlando Furioso: and Lewis, his first cousin by his father's
elder brother--the heir presumptive--was very little better, and
reported every winter to be dying. He spends all his time--his spine
being made, it is popularly believed, of gristle--stretched on his back
upon a deal board, cutting out paper figures with a pair of scissors.
Toole used to tell them at the club, when alarming letters arrived about
the health of the noble uncle and his hopeful nephew--the heir
apparent--'That's the gentleman who's back-bone's made of jelly--eh,
Puddock? Two letters come, by Jove, announcing that Dick Devereux's
benefit is actually fixed for the Christmas holidays, when his cousin
undertakes to die for positively the last time, and his uncle will play
in the most natural manner conceivable, the last act of "King Lear."' In
fact, this family calamity was rather a cheerful subject among
Devereux's friends; and certainly Devereux had no reason to love that
vicious, selfish old lunatic, Lord Athenry, who in his prodigal and
heartless reign, before straw and darkness swallowed him, never gave the
boy a kind word or gentle look, and owed him a mortal grudge because he
stood near th