ether I should
have nerve enough to meet her, without disclosing in my manner the altered
state of my feelings; a possibility which I now dreaded fully as much as I
had longed some days before to avow my affection for her, however slight
its prospect of return. All my valiant resolves and well-contrived plans
for appearing unmoved and indifferent in her presence, with which I stored
my mind while dressing and when on the way to dinner, were, however,
needless, for it was a party exclusively of men; and as the coffee was
served in the dining-room, no move was made to the drawing-room by any of
the company. "Quite as well as it is!" was my muttered opinion, as I got
into my cab at the door. "All is at an end as regards me in her esteem, and
I must not spend my days sighing for a young lady that cares for another."
Very reasonable, very proper resolutions these; but, alas! I went home to
bed, only to think half the night long of the fair Lucy, and dream of her
the remainder of it.

When morning dawned my first thought was, Shall I see her once more? Shall
I leave her forever thus abruptly? Or, rather, shall I not unburden my
bosom of its secret, confess my love, and say farewell? I felt such a
course much more in unison with my wishes than the day before; and as Power
had told me that before a week we should present ourselves at Fermoy, I
knew that no time was to be lost.

My determination was taken. I ordered my horse, and early as it was, rode
out to the Royal Hospital. My heart beat so strongly as I rode up to the
door that I half resolved to return. I rang the bell. Sir George was in
town. Miss Dashwood had just gone, five minutes before, to spend some days
at Carton. "It is fate!" thought I as I turned from the spot and walked
slowly beside my horse towards Dublin.

In the few days that intervened before my leaving town, my time was
occupied from morning to night; the various details of my uniform, outfit,
etc., were undertaken for me by Power. My horses were sent for to Galway;
and I myself, with innumerable persons to see, and a mass of business to
transact, contrived at least three times a day to ride out to the Royal
Hospital, always to make some trifling inquiry for Sir George, and always
to hear repeated that Miss Dashwood had not returned.

Thus passed five of my last six days in Dublin; and as the morning of
the last opened, it was with a sorrowing spirit that I felt my hour of
departure approach without on