ght my eyes
would have been put out the short time I stayed; indeed, I don't think
this one has recovered it yet," advancing a fierce blood-shot eye almost
close to Mary's. "Don't you think it looks a _leettle_ inflamed, Miss
Mary?"

Mary gave it as her opinion that it did.

"Well, that's all I've got by this business; but I never was consulted
about it. I thought it my duty, however, to give a _leettle_ hint to the
Earl, when the thing was proposed. 'My Lord,' says I, 'your house is
your own; you have a right to do what you please with it; burn it; pull
it down; make a purgatory of it; but, for God's sake, don't give a ball
in it!' The ball was given, and you see the consequences. A ball! and
what's a ball, that a whole family should be thrown into disorder for
it?"

"I daresay, to those who are engaged in it, it is a very delightful
amusement at the time."

"Delightful fiddlestick! 'Pon my soul, I'm surprised at you, Miss Mary!
I thought your staying away was a pretty strong proof of your good
sense; but I--hem! Delightful amusement, indeed! to see human creatures
twirling one another about all night like so many monkeys--making
perfect mountebanks of themselves. Really, I look upon dancing as a most
degrading and a most immoral practice. 'Pon my soul, I--_I_ couldn't
have the face to waltz, I know; and it's all on account of this
delightful amusement--" with a convulsive shake of his chin--"that things
are in this state--myself kept waiting for my breakfast two hours and a
half beyond my natural time: not that I mind myself at all--that's
neither here nor there--and if I was the only sufferer, I'm sure I
should be the very last to complain--but I own it vexes--it distresses
me. 'Pon my honour, can't stand seeing a whole family going to
destruction!"

The Doctor's agitation was so great that Mary really pitied him.

"It is rather hard that you cannot get any breakfast since you had no
enjoyment in the ball," said she. "I daresay, were I to apply to Mrs.
Brown, she would trust me with her keys; and I shall be happy too
officiate for her in making your tea."

"Thank you, Miss Mary," replied the Doctor coldly. "I'm very much obliged
to you. It is really a very polite offer on your part; but--hem!--you
might have observed that I never take tea to breakfast. I keep that for
the evening; most people, I know, do the reverse, but they're in the
wrong. Coffee is too nutritive for the evening. The French themselves
ar