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opinion that his ludship would have it down as soon as he arrived.
Our attention was now distracted by the fact that his ludship did

arrive. It was ten o'clock, but barely dark enough yet to make the
lanterns effective, although they had just been lighted.

There were two private carriages and two four-wheelers, from which
paterfamilias and one other gentleman alighted, followed by a small

feminine delegation.
"One young chap to brace up the gov'nor," said Bertie Godolphin.

"Then the eldest daughter is engaged to be married; that's right;
only three daughters and two h'orphan nieces to work off now!"

As the girls scampered in, hidden by their long cloaks, we could not
even discover the two we already knew. While they were divesting

themselves of their wraps in an upper chamber, Nurse hovering over
them with maternal solicitude, we were anxiously awaiting their

criticisms of our preparations.
Chapter XII. Patricia makes her debut.

For three days we had been overseeing the details. Would they
approve the result? Would they think the grand piano in the proper

corner? Were the garlands hung too low? Was the balcony scheme
effective? Was our menu for the supper satisfactory? Were there

too many lanterns? Lord and Lady Brighthelmston had superintended
so little, and we so much, that we felt personally responsible.

Now came musicians with their instruments. The butler sent four
melancholy Spanish students to the balcony, where they began to tune

mandolins and guitars, while an Hungarian band took up its position,
we conjectured, on some extension or balcony in the rear, the

existence of which we had not guessed until we heard the music
later. Then the butler turned on the electric light, and the family

came into the drawing-rooms.
They did admire them as much as we could wish, and we, on our part,

thoroughly approved of the family. We had feared it might prove
dull, plain, dowdy, though wellborn, with only dear Patricia to

enliven it; but it was well-dressed, merry, and had not a thought of
glancing at the windows or pulling down the blinds, bless its simple

heart!
The mother entered first, wearing a grey satin gown and a diamond

crown that quite established her position in the great world. Then
girls, and more girls: a rose-pink girl, a pale green, a lavender,

a yellow, and our Patricia, in a cloud of white with a sparkle of
silver, and a diamond arrow in her lustrous hair.

What an English nosegay they made, to be sure, as they stood in the
back of the room while paterfamilias approached, and calling each in

turn, gave her a lovely bouquet from a huge basket held by the
butler.

Everybody's flowers matched everybody's frock to perfection; those
of the h'orphan nieces were just as beautiful as those of the

daughters, and it is no wonder that the English nosegay descended
upon paterfamilias, bore him into the passage, and if they did not

kiss him soundly, why did he come back all rosy and crumpled,
smoothing his dishevelled hair, and smiling at Lady Brighthelmston?

We speedily named the girls Rose, Mignonette, Violet, and Celandine,
each after the colour of her frock.

"But there are only five, and there ought to be six," whispered
Salemina, as if she expected to be heard across the street.

"One--two--three--four--five, you are right," said Mr. Beresford.
"The plainest of the lot must be staying in Wales with a maiden aunt

who has a lot of money to leave. The old lady isn't so ill that
they can't give the ball, but just ill enough so that she may make

her will wrong if left alone; poor girl, to be plain, and then to
miss such a ball as this,--hello! the first guest! He is on time to

be sure; I hate to be first, don't you?"
The first guest was a strikingly handsome fellow, irreproachably

dressed and unmistakably nervous.
"He is afraid he is too early!"

"He is afraid that if he waits he'll be too late!"
"He doesn't want the driver to stop directly in front of the door."

"He has something beside him on the seat of the hansom."
"The tissue paper has blown off: it is flowers."

"It is a piece! Jove, this IS a rum ball!"
"What IS the thing? No wonder he doesn't drive up to the door and

go in with it!"
"It is a HARP, as sure as I am alive!"

Then electrically from Francesca, "It is Patricia's Irish lover! I
forget his name."

"Rory!"
"Shamus!"

"Michael!"
"Patrick!"

"Terence!"
"Hush!" she exclaimed at this chorus of Hibernian Christian names,

"it is Patricia's undeclared impecunious lover. He is afraid that
she won't know his gift is a harp, and afraid that the other girls

will. He feared to send it, lest one of the sisters or h'orphan
nieces should get it; it is frightful to love one of six, and the

cards are always slipping off, and the wrong girl is always
receiving your love-token or your offer of marriage."

"And if it is an offer, and the wrong woman gets it, she always
accepts, somehow," said Mr. Beresford; "It's only the right one who

declines!" and here he certainly looked at me pointedly.
"He hoped to arrive before any one else," Francesca went on, "and

put the harp in a nice place, and lead Patricia up to it, and make
her wonder who sent it. Now poor dear (yes, his name is sure to be

Terence), he is too late, and I am sure he will leave it in the
hansom, he will be so embarrassed."

And so he did, but alas! the driver came back with it in an instant,
the butler ran down the long path of crimsoncarpet that covered the

sidewalk, the first footman assisted, the second footman pursued
Terence and caught him on the staircase, and he descended

reluctantly, only to receive the harp in his arms and send a tip to
the cabman, whom of course he was cursing in his heart.

"I can't think why he should give her a harp," mused Bertie
Godolphin. "Such a rum thing, a harp, isn't it? It's too heavy for

her to 'tote,' as you say in the States."
"Yes, we always say 'tote,' particularly in the North," I replied;

"but perhaps it is Patricia's favourite instrument. Perhaps Terence
first saw her at the harp, and loved her from the moment he heard

her sing the 'Minstrel Boy' and the 'Meeting of the Waters.'"
"Perhaps he merely brought it as a sort of symbol," suggested Mr.

Beresford; "a kind of flowery metaphor signifying that all Ireland,
in his person, is at her disposal, only waiting to be played upon."

"If that is what he means, he must be a jolly muff," remarked the
Honourable Arthur. "I should think he'd have to send a guidebook

with the bloomin' thing."
We never knew how Terence arranged about the incubus; we only saw

that he did not enter the drawing room with it in his arms. He was
well received, although there was no special enthusiasm over his

arrival; but the first guest is always at a disadvantage.
He greeted the young ladies as if he were in the habit of meeting

them often, but when he came to Patricia, well, he greeted her as if
he could never meet her often enough; there was a distinct

difference, and even Mrs. Beresford, who had been incredulous,
succumbed to our view of the case.

Patricia took him over to the piano to see the arrangement of some
lilies. He said they were delicious, but looked at her.

She asked him if he did not think the garlands lovely.
He said, "Perfectly charming," but never lifted his eyes higher than

her face.
"Do you like my dress?" her glance seemed to ask.

"Wonderful!" his seemed to reply, as he stealthily put out his hand
and touched a soft fold of its white fluffiness.

I could hear him think, as she leaned into the curve of the
Broadwood and bent over the flowers-

'Have you seen but a bright lily grow
Before rude hands have touched it?

Have you marked but the fall of the snow
Before the soil hath smutched it?

Have you felt the wool of beaver?
Or swan's down ever?

Or have smelt o' the bud o' the brier?
Or the nard i' the fire?

Or have tasted the bag of the bee?
Oh, so white! oh, so soft! oh, so sweet is she!'

A footman entered, bearing the harp, which he placed on a table in
the corner. He disclaimed all knowledge of it, having probably been

well paid to do so, and the unoccupied girls gathered about it like
bees about a honeysuckle, while Patricia and Terence stayed by the

piano.
"To think it may never be a match!" sighed Francesca, "and they are

such an ideal pair! But it is easy to see that the mother will
oppose it, and although Patricia is her father's darling, he cannot

allow her to marry a handsome young pauper like Terence."
"Cheer up!" said Bertie Godolphin reassuringly. "Perhaps some

unrelenting beggar of an uncle will die of old age next and leave
him the title and estates."

"I hope she will accept him to-night, if she loves him, estates or
no estates," said Salemina, who, like many ladies who have elected

to remain single, is distinctlysentimental, and has not an ounce of
worldly wisdom.

"Well, I think a fellow deserves some reward," remarked Mr.
Beresford, "when he has the courage to drive up in a hansom bearing

a green harp with yellow strings in his arms. It shows that his
passion has quite eclipsed his sense of humour. By the way, I am

not sure but I should choose Rose, after all; there's something very
attractive about Rose."

"It is the fact that she is promised to another," laughed Francesca
somewhat pertly.

"She would make an admirable wife," Mrs. Beresford interjected--
absent-mindedly; "and so of course Terence will not choose her, and

similarly neither would you, if you had the chance."
At this Mrs. Beresford's son glances up at me with twinkling eyes,

and I can hardly forbear smiling, so unconscious is she that his
choice is already made. However, he replies: "Who ever loved a

woman for her solid virtues, mother? Who ever fell a victim to
punctuality, patience, or frugality? It is other and different

qualities which colour the personality and ensnare the heart; though
the stodgy and reliable traits hold it, I dare say, when once

captured. Don't you know Berkeley says, 'D--n it, madam, who falls
in love with attributes?'"

Meantime Violet and Celandine have come out on the balcony, and
seeing the tinkling musicians there, have straightway banished them

to another part of the house.
"A good thing, too!" murmured Bertie Godolphin, "making a beastly

row in that 'nailing' little corner, collecting a crowd sooner or
later, don't you know, and putting a dead stop to the jolly little

flirtations."
The Honourable Arthur glanced critically at Celandine. "I should

make up to her," he said thoughtfully. "She's the best groomed one
of the whole stud, though why you call her Celandine I can't think."

"It's a flower, and her dress is yellow, can't you see, man? You've
got no sense of colour," said the candid Bertie. "I believe you'd

just as soon be a green parrot with a red head as not."
And now the guests began to arrive; so many of them and so near

together that we hardly had time to label them as they said good
evening, and told dear Lady Brighthelmston how pretty the

decorations were, and how prevalent the influenza had been, and how
very sultry the weather, and how clever it was of her to give her

party in a vacant house, and what a delightful marriage Rose was
making, and how well dear Patricia looked.

The sound of the music drifted into the usually quiet street, and by
half-past eleven the ball was in full splendour. Lady

Brighthelmston stood alone now, greeting all the late arrivals; and


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