, not knowing how to address him, Olive laughed beautifully
from behind her silver fan. They entered Patrick's Hall, where Lord
Dungory, Lord Rosshill, and others were waiting to receive Mrs. Barton,
who sought for a prominent seat, and dealing out pearly laughs and
winsome compliments to her court, she watched Olive, who, according to
orders, had taken Lord Kilcarney to sit on the highest of the series of
benches that lined one side of the room, which she did, and for a moment
Mrs. Barton felt as if she held Dublin under her satin shoe. Alice was
her only trouble. What would she do with this gawk of a girl? But soon
even this difficulty was solved, for Harding came up and asked her if he
might take her to get an ice.

'How absurd we looked dressed up in this way,' said Harding; 'look at
that attorney and the court sword. It would be just as logical to stick
a quill pen behind the ear of a fat pig.'

'Well, the sword--I confess I don't see much meaning in that; but the
rest of the dress is well enough. I don't see why one style of dress
should be more absurd than another, unless it is because it isn't the
fashion.'

'Yes, but that is just the reason; just fancy dressing oneself up in the
costume of a bygone time.'

'And is everything that isn't the fashion ridiculous?'

'Ah, there, I fancy, you have the best of the argument. Waiter, a
strawberry ice. But did you say you would have strawberry?'

'I don't think I did, for I prefer lemon.'

The centre of the ceiling was filled with an oval picture representing
St. Patrick receiving Pagans into the true faith. The walls were white
painted, the panels were gold-listed. There were pillars at both ends of
the room, and in a top gallery, behind a curtain of evergreen plants,
Liddell's orchestra continued to pour an uninterrupted flood of waltz
melody upon the sea of satin, silk, poplin, and velvet that surged
around the buffet, angrily demanding cream ices, champagne, and
claret-cup. Every moment the crowd grew denser, and the red coats of the
Guards and the black corded jackets of the Rifles stained like spots of
ink and blood the pallor of the background. A few young men looked
elegant and shapely in the velvet and stockings of Court dress. One of
these was Fred Scully. He was with May, who, the moment she caught sight
of Alice, made frantic efforts to reach her.

'My dear, did anyone ever look so nice! You are as sweet--well, a little
sweeter--than you generally are