st they be delivered?"

"Oh, at once. Do you think you could make a little change in your dress,
and manage to come over? his Grace always likes it better; there's no
stiffness, no formality whatever; most of the dinner-party have gone
home; there are only a few of the government people, the Duke's friends,
remaining, and, besides, he's always kind and good-natured."

"I'll see what I can do," replied I, as I rose from the sofa; "I put
myself into your hands altogether."

"Well, come along," said he; "you'll find everything ready in this
room. I hope that old villain has left hot water. Corny! Corny, I say!
Confound him, he's gone to bed, I suppose."

Having no particular desire for Mr. Delany's attentions, I prevailed on
his master not to disturb him, and proceeded to make my toilette as well
as I was able.

"Didn't that stupid scoundrel come near you at all?" cried O'Grady.

"Oh yes, we have had a long interview; but, somehow, I fear I did not
succeed in gaining his good graces."

"The worst-tempered old villain in Europe."

"Somewhat of a character, I take it."

"A crab-tree planted in a lime-kiln, cranky and cross-grained; but he
is a legacy, almost the only one my father left me. I've done my best to
part with him every day for the last twelve years, but he sticks to me
like a poor relation, giving me warning every night of his life, and
every morning kicking up such a row in the house that every one is
persuaded I am beating him to a jelly before turning him out to starve
in the streets."

"Oh, the haythins! the Turks!" said I, slyly.

"Confound it!" cried he, "the old devil has been opening upon you
already; and Jet, with all that, I don't know how I should get on
without Corny; his gibes, his jeers, his everlasting ill-temper, his
crankiness that never sleeps, seem to agree with me: the fact is, one
enjoys the world from all its contrasts. The olive is a poor thing in
itself, but it certainly improves the smack of your Burgundy. In this
way Corny Delany does me good service. Come, by Jove, you have not been
long dressing. This way: now follow' me." So saying, Captain O'Grady
led the way down the stairs to the colonnade, following which to the
opposite side of the quadrangle we arrived at a brilliantly lighted
hall, where several servants in full-dress liveries were in waiting.
Passing hastily through this, we mounted a handsome staircase, and,
traversing several ante-chambers, at length arrived at o