imosity, and the English and the Irish party were arrayed against each
other in the cause of beauty.

It would be impossible to conceive a rivalry from which every ungenerous
or unworthy feeling was more perfectly excluded. So far from any
jealousy obtruding, every little triumph of one was a source of
unalloyed heartfelt pleasure to the other; and while Sybella sympathized
with all the delight of Kate's followers in an Irish success, so Kate,
with characteristic feeling, enjoyed nothing so much as the chagrin of
her own party, when Sybella was unquestionably in the ascendant. Happily
for us, we are not called upon to explain a phenomenon so novel and so
pleasing--enough if we record it. Certain it is, the absence of all envy
enhanced the fascinations of each, and exalted the objects in the eyes
of their admirers. On this point alone opinion was undivided--none
claimed any superiority for their idol, by ascribing to her a greater
share of this good gift; nor could even malice impute a difference in
their mutual affection.

One alone among the circle of their acquaintances stood neutral--unable
to divest himself enough of natural partiality, to be a fair and just
judge. Sir Marmaduke Travers candidly avowed that he felt himself out
of court. The leaders of fashion, the great arbiters of "bon ton," were
happily divided, and if England could boast of a majority among the
Castle party, Ireland turned the scale with those who, having enjoyed
opportunities of studying foreign manner, pronounced Kate's the very
perfection of French agreeability, united to native loveliness and
attraction.

So much for "the sensation," to use the phrase appropriated by the
newspapers, their entrance into the fashionable life of Dublin excited.
Let us now return to the parties themselves. In a large and splendidly
furnished apartment of Sir Marmaduke's Dublin residence, sat the
Baronet, his daughter, and Kate, at breakfast, alternately reading from
the morning papers, and discussing the news as they ate.

"Well, but, my dear Kate"--Sir Marmaduke had emancipated himself from
the more formal "Miss" a week before--"turn to another column, and let
us hear if they have any political news."

"There's not a word, sir, unless an allusion to the rebel colour of my
dress at the Chancellor's ball be such. You see, Sybella, Falkner fights
not under my banner."

"I think you stole the Chancellor himself from me," replied Sybella,
laughing, "and I must