rushed back from her forehead, and tied behind
with a rose-coloured ribbon, but uncovered, except by a tiny lace cap on
the crown of her head; Ulick's darker hair was carefully arranged in
great curls on his back and shoulders, as like a full-bottomed wig as
nature would permit, and over it he wore a little cocked hat edged with
gold lace. He had a rich laced cravat, a double-breasted waistcoat of
pale blue satin, and breeches to match, a brown velvet coat with blue
embroidery on the pockets, collar, and skirts, silk stockings to match,
as well as the knot of the tiny scabbard of the semblance of a sword at
his side, shoes with silver buckles, and altogether he might have been a
full-grown Comte or Vicomte seen through a diminishing glass. His sister
was in a full-hooped dress, with tight long waist, and sleeves reaching
to her elbows, the under skirt a pale pink, the upper a deeper rose
colour; but stiff as was the attire, she had managed to give it a slight
general air of disarrangement, to get her cap a little on one side, a
stray curl loose on her forehead, to tear a bit of the dangling lace on
her arms, and to splash her robe with a puddle. He was in air, feature,
and complexion a perfect little dark Frenchman. The contour of her face,
still more its rosy glow, were more in accordance with her surname, and
so especially were the large deep blue eyes with the long dark lashes and
pencilled brows. And there was a lively restless air about her full of
intelligence, as she manoeuvred her brother towards a stone seat, guarded
by a couple of cupids reining in sleepy-looking lions in stone, where,
under the shade of a lime-tree, her little petticoated brother of two
years old was asleep, cradled in the lap of a large, portly, handsome
woman, in a dark dress, a white cap and apron, and dark crimson cloak,
loosely put back, as it was an August day. Native costumes were then, as
now, always worn by French nurses; but this was not the garb of any
province of the kingdom, and was as Irish as the brogue in which she was
conversing with the tall fine young man who stood at ease beside her. He
was in a magnificent green and gold livery suit, his hair powdered, and
fastened in a _queue_, the whiteness contrasting with the dark brows, and
the eyes and complexion of that fine Irish type that it is the fashion to
call Milesian. He looked proud of his dress, which was viewed in those
days as eminently becoming, and did in fact di