little too
graceful Don't you think so?'

'Why what do you mean?' said Lady Charlotte, as her eyes sparkled with
animation at the thought of a secret.

'Nothing,' replied the last speaker carelessly; 'except that one always
detects the _danseuse_. She was thinner when I saw her at Naples.'

I whispered one word--but one--in his ear, and his face became purple
with shame and confusion.

'Eh, what is it?' said my mother eagerly. 'John knows something of her
too. John, dearest, let us hear it?'

'I am in your ladyship's debt as regards one secret,' said O'Grady,
interrupting; 'perhaps I may be permitted to pay it on this occasion.
The lady in question is the daughter of an Irish baronet, the descendant
of a family as old as any of those who now hear me. That baronet
would have been a peer of the realm had he consented to vote once--but
once--with the minister, on a question where his conscience told him to
oppose him. His refusal was repaid by neglect; others were promoted to
rank and honours before him; but the frown of a minister could neither
take away the esteem of his country nor his own self-respect. He is now
dead; but his daughter is the worthy inheritor of his virtues and his
name. Perhaps I might interest the present company as much in her favour
by adding, she possesses something like eight thousand per annum.'

'Two hundred thousand _livres de rente!_ said Grammont, smacking his
lips with astonishment, 'and perfectly insensible to the tone of mockery
in which O'Grady's last words were spoken.

'And you are sure of all this?' said my mother.

O'Grady bowed deeply, but without speaking, while his features assumed
an expression of severe determination I had never witnessed before. I
could not help remarking, that, amid the dismay such an announcement
created in that gossiping and calumnious assembly, my cousin Julia's
eyes shone with an added lustre, and her whole face beamed with a look
of proud and exalted beauty.

This was now the time to tell O'Grady my secret; and drawing him towards
a window, I said--

'Phil, I can wait no longer--you must hear it. I'm going to be married.'

The words had not left my lips, when O'Grady started back, his face
as pale as death, and his whole frame trembling with eagerness. By a
violent effort, however, he rallied; and as he clutched my arm with his
fingers, he said--

'I must be going; these good people have made me forget an appointment.
Make my respectful hom