s Kiljoy had partners in plenty, among whom was myself, who walked
a minuet with her (if the clumsy waddling of the Irish heiress may be
called by such a name); and I took occasion to plead my passion for Lady
Lyndon in the most pathetic terms, and to beg her friend's interference
in my favour.

It was three hours past midnight when the party for Lyndon House went
away. Little Bullingdon had long since been asleep in one of Lady
Charlemont's china closets. Mr. Runt was exceedingly husky in talk, and
unsteady in gait. A young lady of the present day would be alarmed to
see a gentleman in such a condition; but it was a common sight in those
jolly old times, when a gentleman was thought a milksop unless he was
occasionally tipsy. I saw Miss Kiljoy to her carriage, with several
other gentlemen: and, peering through the crowd of ragged linkboys,
drivers, beggars, drunken men and women, who used invariably to wait
round great men's doors when festivities were going on, saw the carriage
drive off, with a hurrah from the mob; then came back presently to the
supper-room, where I talked German, favoured the three or four topers
still there with a High-Dutch chorus, and attacked the dishes and wine
with great resolution.

'How can you drink aisy with that big nose on?' said one gentleman.

'Go an be hangt!' said I, in the true accent, applying myself again
to the wine; with which the others laughed, and I pursued my supper in
silence.

There was a gentleman present who had seen the Lyndon party go off, with
whom I had made a bet, which I lost; and the next morning I called upon
him and paid it him. All which particulars the reader will be surprised
at hearing enumerated; but the fact is, that it was not I who went back
to the party, but my late German valet, who was of my size, and,
dressed in my mask, could perfectly pass for me. We changed clothes in
a hackney-coach that stood near Lady Lyndon's chariot, and driving after
it, speedily overtook it.

The fated vehicle which bore the lovely object of Ulick Brady's
affections had not advanced very far, when, in the midst of a deep rut
in the road, it came suddenly to with a jolt; the footman, springing off
the back, cried 'Stop!' to the coachman, warning him that a wheel
was off, and that it would be dangerous to proceed with only three.
Wheel-caps had not been invented in those days, as they have since been
by the ingenious builders of Long Acre. And how the linch-pin of the