onging and pressing onwards towards the scene
of festivity. O'Grady, who contrived entirely to engross his grace's
attention by many bits of the gossip and small-talk of the day, did not
permit him to remark that the viceregal liveries and the guard of honour
that accompanied us enabled us to cut the line of carriages, and
taking precedence of all others, arrive at the door at once. Indeed, so
occupied was the duke with some story at the moment, that he was half
provoked as the door was flung open, and the clattering clash of the
steps interrupted the conversation.

'Here we are, my lord,' said Phil.

'Well, get out, O'Grady. Lead on. Don't forget it is my first visit
here; and you, I fancy, know the map of the country.'

The hall in which we found ourselves, brilliantly lighted and thronged
with servants, presented a scene of the most strange confusion and
tumult; for, such was the eagerness of the guests to get forward, many
persons were separated from their friends: turbaned old ladies called
in cracked voices for their sons to rescue them, and desolate daughters
seized distractedly the arm nearest them, and implored succour with an
accent as agonising as though on the eve of shipwreck. Mothers screamed,
fathers swore, footmen laughed, and high above all came the measured
tramp of the dancers overhead, while fiddles, French horns, and
dulcimers scraped and blew their worst, as if purposely to increase the
inextricable and maddening confusion that prevailed.

'Sir Peter and Lady Macfarlane!' screamed the servant at the top of the
stairs.

'Counsellor and Mrs. Blake!'

'Captain O'Ryan of the Rifles!'

'Lord Dumboy-----'

'Dunboyne, you villain!'

'Ay, Lord Dunboyne and five ladies!'

Such were the announcements that preceded us as we wended our way slowly
on, while I could distinguish Mr. Rooney's voice receiving and welcoming
his guests, for which purpose he used a formula, in part derived from
the practice of an auction-room.

'Walk in, ladies and gentlemen, walk in. Whist, tea, dancing, negus, and
blind-hookey--delighted to see you--walk in'; and so, _da capo_, only
varying the ritual when a lord or a baronet necessitated a change of
title.

'You're quite right, O'Grady; I wouldn't have lost this for a great
deal,' whispered the duke.

'Now, my lord, permit me,' said Phil. 'Hinton and I will engage Mr.
Rooney in conversation, while your grace can pass on and mix with the
crowd.'

'Walk in, walk i