flow of reproaches that rose in her mind.

Two old ladies sat on the sofa under the window, their white hair and
white caps coming out very white upon the grey Irish day; and around the
ottoman the young ladies, Gladys and Zoe Brennan, one of the Miss
Duffys, and the girl in red, yawned over circulating novels, longing
that a man might come in--not with hope that he would interest them, but
because they were accustomed to think of all time as wasted that was not
spent in talking to a man.

Nor were they awakened from their languid hopes until Olive came rushing
into the room with a large envelope in her hand.

'Oh, I see,' she said, 'you have got a letter from Cecilia. What does
she say? I got one this morning from Barnes;' and, bending her head,
Olive whispered in Alice's ear: 'She says that everyone is talking in
Galway of when I shall be a marchioness!'

'Is that the letter?' asked Alice innocently.

'No, you silly, this is a Castle invitation.'

The Brennans and the girl in red looked up.

'Ah, is it for to-night or to-morrow?' said the latter.

'For to-morrow.'

'Now, I wonder if there will be one for me. Is it to dinner or to the
dance?'

'To dinner.'

'Ah, really . . . yes, very lucky.' Her eyes fell, and her look was
expressive of her deep disappointment. A dance--yes, but a dinner and a
dance! Then she continued: 'Ah, the Castle treats us all very badly. I
am glad sometimes when I hear the Land League abusing it. We come up
here, and spend all our money on dresses, and we get nothing for it
except two State balls, and it is no compliment to ask us to them--they
are obliged to. But what do you think of my little coat? It is this that
keeps me warm,' and Miss O'Reilly held out her sealskin for the company
to feel the texture. For the last three weeks she had not failed, on all
occasions, to call attention to this garment--'Signor Parisina had said
it was lovely.' Here she sighed--Signor Parisina had left the hotel.
'And I have a new dress coming home--it is all red--a cardinal silk--you
know nothing but red suits me!'

'Is the hall-porter distributing the invitations?' asked Gladys Brennan.
'Did he give you yours?'

'No, ours was, of course, directed to mamma; I found it in her room.'

'Then perhaps--' Zoe did not finish the sentence, and both sisters
rolled up their worsted-work preparatory to going upstairs.

In Dublin, during six weeks of the year, the arrival of these large
official envel