with, nothing could be done but to express sympathy in
appropriate words. Nobody, Lord Dungory declared, could regret the
dastardly outrage that had been committed more than he. He had known
Lord Kilcarney many years, and he had always found him a man whom no one
could fail to esteem. The earldom was one of the oldest in Ireland, but
the marquisate did not go back farther than the last few years.
Beaconsfield had given him a step in the peerage; no one knew why. A
very curious man--most retiring--hated society. Then Lord Rosshill
related an anecdote concerning an enormous water-jump that he and Lord
Kilcarney had taken together; and he also spoke of the late Marquis's
aversion to matrimony, and hinted that he had once refused a match which
would have relieved the estates of all debt. But he could not be
persuaded; indeed, he had never been known to pay any woman the
slightest attention.

'It is to be hoped the present Marquis won't prove so difficult to
please,' said Mrs. Gould. The remark was an unfortunate one, and the
chaperons present resented this violation of their secret thoughts. Mrs.
Barton and Mrs. Scully suddenly withdrew their eyes, which till then had
been gently following their daughters through the figures of the dance,
and, forgetting what they foresaw would be the cause of future enmity,
united in condemning Mrs. Gould. Obeying a glance of the Lady Hamilton
eyes, Lord Dungory said:

'_On cherche l'amour dans les boudoirs, non pas dans les cimetieres,
madame_.' Then he added (but this time only for the private ear of Mrs.
Barton), '_La mer ne rend pas ses morts, mais la tombe nous donne
souvent les ecussons_.'

'Ha! ha! ha!' laughed Mrs. Barton, '_ce Milord, il trouve l'esprit
partout_;' and her light coaxing laugh dissipated this moment of
ball-room gloom.

And Alice? Although conscious of her deficiency in the _trois temps_,
determined not to give in without an effort, she had suffered May to
introduce her to a couple of officers; but to execute the step she knew
theoretically, or to talk to her partner when he had dragged her,
breathless, out of the bumping dances, she found to be difficult, so
ignorant was she of hunting and of London theatres, and having read only
one book of Ouida's, it would be vain for her to hope to interest her
partner in literature. The other girls seemed more at home with their
partners, and while she walked with hers, wondering what she should say
next, she noticed beh