not look at her, or speak to her. Was she under a cloud?
Was this her usual character? Or was she sad and serious with the
pressure of some secret purpose? Such were my thoughts; but then I
suddenly decided that by such thoughts I was only making an ass of
myself, and concluded that it was nothing more than her way. If so, it
was an uncommonly impressive way.

The ladies retired early that evening. Marion, on leaving, gave me a
last searching glance; while Nora took leave with her most bewildering
smile. The glance and the smile both struck home; but, which affected
me most, it is impossible to say.

CHAPTER XX.

"OUR SYMPOSIUM," AS O'HALLORAN CALLED IT.--HIGH AND MIGHTY DISCOURSE.
--GENERAL INSPECTION OF ANTIQUITY BY A LEARNED EYE.--A DISCOURSE UPON
THE "OIONEESOIZIN" OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.--HOMERIC TRANSLATIONS.
--O'HALLORAN AND BURNS.--A NEW EPOCH FOR THE BROGUE.--THE DINNER OF
ACHILLES AND THE PALACE OF ANTINOUS.

The servants brought us the generous preparations for the evening
--sugar, spoons, hot water, tumblers, and several other things.

O'Halloran began by expressing his gratitude, and saying that Nora
could not speak on the subject. He hoped I would see, by that, why it
was that she had not answered my questions. Whereupon I hastened to
apologize for asking questions which so harshly reminded her of a
terrible tragedy. Our mutual explanations were soon exhausted, and we
turned to subjects in general.

As our symposium proceeded, O'Halloran grew more and more eloquent,
more discursive, more learned, more enthusiastic. He didn't expect me
to take any part in the conversation. He was only anxious that I should
"take it hot," and keep my pipe and my tumbler well in hand. He was
like Coleridge, and Johnson, and other great men who abhor dialogues,
and know nothing but monologues.

On this occasion he monologued on the following subjects: The
Darwinian hypothesis, the positive philosophy, Protestant missions,
temperance societies, Fichte, Leasing, Hegel, Carlyle, mummies, the
Apocalypse, Maimonides, John Scotus Erigena, the steam-engine of Hero,
the Serapeium, the Dorian Emigration, and the Trojan War. This at last
brought him on the subject of Homer.

He paused for a moment here.

"D'ye want to know," said he, "the thrue business of me loife, an' me
sowl occupeetion?"

I bowed and gave a feeble smile. I thought of Fenian agencies and a
dozen other things, and fancied that in this hour of c