whose guidance I was entrusted was one of the
aides-de-camp, and was not long in finding Sir George. No sooner had the
good old general heard my name, than he held out both his hands and shook
mine most heartily.

"At last, O'Malley; at last I am able to thank you for the greatest
service ever man rendered me. He saved Lucy, my Lord; rescued her under
circumstances where anything short of his courage and determination must
have cost her her life."

"Ah, very pretty indeed," said a stiff old gentleman addressed, as he
bowed a most superbly powdered scalp before me; "most happy to make your
acquaintance."

"Who is he?" added he, in nearly as loud a tone to Sir George.

"Mr. O'Malley, of O'Malley Castle."

"True, I forgot; why is he not in uniform?"

"Because, unfortunately, my Lord, we don't own him; he's not in the army."

"Ha! ha! thought he was."

"You dance, O'Malley, I suppose? I'm sure you'd rather be over there than
hearing all my protestations of gratitude, sincere and heartfelt as they
really are."

"Lechmere, introduce my friend, Mr. O'Malley; get him a partner."

I had not followed my new acquaintance many steps, when Power came up to
me. "I say, Charley," cried he, "I have been tormented to death by half the
ladies in the room to present you to them, and have been in quest of you
this half-hour. Your brilliant exploit in savage land has made you a
regular _preux chevalier_; and if you don't trade on that adventure to your
most lasting profit, you deserve to be--a lawyer. Come along here! Lady
Muckleman, the adjutant-general's lady and chief, has four Scotch daughters
you are to dance with; then I am to introduce you in all form to the Dean
of Something's niece,--she is a good-looking girl, and has two livings in
a safe county. Then there's the town-major's wife; and, in fact, I have
several engagements from this to supper-time."

"A thousand thanks for all your kindness in prospective, but I think,
perhaps, it were right I should ask Miss Dashwood to dance, if only as a
matter of form,--you understand?"

"And if Miss Dashwood should say, 'With pleasure, sir,' only as a matter of
form,--you understand?" said a silvery voice beside me. I turned, and saw
Lucy Dashwood, who, having overheard my free-and-easy suggestion, replied
to me in this manner.

I here blundered out my excuses. What I said, and what I did not say, I do
not now remember; but certainly, it was her turn now to blush, and her arm