only--false heels inside my boots give me a
slight advantage over you. Don't be jealous, however, I'm not your match
on a fair footing."

This flattery seemed successful, for Mark smiled, and reddened slightly.
As they drove along, Talbot entered minutely into an account of the
people they should meet with--warning Mark of the necessity there
existed to avoid any, even the most trivial, sign of astonishment at
anything he saw--to mix with the crowd, and follow the current from room
to room, carefully guarding against making any chance acquaintance--and,
above all, not to be recognised by his cousin Kate, if by any accident
he should be near her.

In the midst of these directions, Talbot was interrupted by the sudden
stoppage of the carriages in the line, which already extended above a
mile from the Castle gate.

"Here we are at last, Mark, in the train of the courtiers--does your
patriotism burn for the time when your homage shall be rendered to
a native Sovereign. Ha! there goes one of the privileged class--that
carriage, with the two footmen, is the Lord Chancellor's, he has the
right of the private 'entree,' and takes the lead of such humble folk as
we are mixed up with."

A deep groan from the mob burst forth, as the equipage, thus noticed,
dashed forward. Such manifestations of public feeling were then
frequent, and not always limited to mere expressions of dislike. The
very circumstance of quitting the regular line, and passing the rest,
seemed to evoke popular indignation, and it was wonderful with what
readiness the mob caught up allusions to the public or private life of
those, thus momentarily exposed to their indignation. Some speech or
vote in Parliament--some judicial sentence--or some act or event in
their private history, was at once recalled and criticised, in a
manner far more frank than flattering. None escaped this notice, for,
notwithstanding the strong force of mounted police that kept the street
clear, some adventurous spirit was always ready to rush forward to the
carriage window, and in a moment announce to the others the name of its
occupant. By all this, Mark was greatly amused--he had few sympathies
with those in little favour with the multitude, and could afford to
laugh at the sallies which assailed the members of the Government. The
taunting sarcasms and personal allusions, of which the Irish members
were not sparing in the house, were here repeated by those, who suffered
the severity