t, as he had found it, in the Altar's
very place. 'Would that he had created an absolute Boylean vacuum!'
What a grand _bon mot_ for her journal!

However, either the spirit of indignation at the sight of the unkneeling
congregation, or else the familiar words of the beautiful musical
service, made her more than usually devout, and stirred up something
within her that could only be appeased by the resolution that the singing
in Robert Fulmort's parish should be super-excellent. After the service,
the carman persuaded them to drive in the Phoenix Park, where they
enjoyed the beautiful broken ground, the picturesque thickets, the grass
whose colour reminded them that they were in the Emerald Isle, the purple
outlines of the Wicklow hills, whence they thought they detected a fresh
mountain breeze. They only wondered to find this delightful place so
little frequented. In England, a Sunday would have filled it with
holiday strollers, whereas here they only encountered a very few, and
those chiefly gentlefolks. The populace preferred sitting on the
doorsteps, or lounging against the houses, as if they were making studies
of themselves for caricatures; and were evidently so much struck with the
young ladies' attire, that the shelter of the hotel was gladly welcomed.

Lucilla was alone in the sitting-room when the waiter came to lay the
cloth. He looked round, as if to secure secrecy, and then remarked in a
low confidential voice, 'There's been a gentleman inquiring for you,
ma'am.'

'Who was it?' said Lucy, with feigned coolness.

'It was when you were at church, ma'am; he wished to know whether two
ladies had arrived here, Miss Charteris and Miss Sandbrook.'

'Did he leave his card?'

'He did not, ma'am, his call was to be a secret; he said it was only to
be sure whether you had arrived.'

'Then he did not give his name?'

'He did, ma'am, for he desired to be let know what route the young ladies
took when they left,' quoth the man, with a comical look, as though he
were imparting a most delightful secret.

'Was he Mr. Calthorp?'

'I said I'd not mention his name,' said the waiter, with, however, such
decided assent, that, as at the same moment he quitted the room and
Horatia entered it, Cilly exclaimed, 'There, Rashe, what do you say now
to the phantom of my vanity? Here has he been asking for us, and what
route we meant taking.'

'He! Who?'

'Who?--why, who should it be? The waiter has just told me.'