, of course. Mere companionship, nothing more. Sound O'Shea
upon it, and let me hear.'

"Here, then, my dear Gorman, is the 'opening' you so long have looked
for; and if _you_ cannot turn such a position to good profit, _who_ can?
Nor are you the man I take you for, if you 're not married into the
family before this day twelvemonth! There is no time to be lost, so
telegraph back at once. A simple 'Yes' will do, if you accept, which I
sincerely hope you will. All the minor arrangements you may safely trust
to _me_."

When Mr. O'Shea had read thus far, he arose, and, walking with head
erect and well thrown-out chest towards the looking-glass, he desired to
"take stock" of his appearance, and to all semblance was not displeased
at the result. He was autumnalizing, it is true; tints were mellowing,
colors more sombre; but, on the whole, there was nothing in the
landscape, viewed at due distance and with suitable light, to indicate
much ravage from Time. Your hard-featured men, like mountains in
scenery, preserve the same appearance unchanged by years. It is your
genial fellow, with mobile features, that suffers so terribly from age.
The plough of Time leaves deep furrows in the arable soil of such faces.
As in those frescos which depend altogether on color, the devastations
of years are awfully felt; when black degenerates into gray, mellow
browns grow a muddy yellow, and the bright touches that "accentuated"
expression are little else than unmeaning blotches! If the Member for
Inch had not travelled far upon the dreary road, I am bound in truth to
own that he had begun the journey. A light, faint silvering showed on
his whiskers, like the first touch of snow on an Alpine fern in October.
The lines that indicated a ready aptitude for fun had deepened, and
grown more marked at the angles at the mouth,--a sad sign of one whose
wit was less genial and more biting than of yore. Then--worst of all--he
had entered upon the pompous lustre wherein men feel an exaggerated
self-importance, imagine that their opinions are formed, and their
character matured. Nothing is so trying as that quarantine period, and
both men and women make more egregious fools of themselves in it than
in all the wild heydey of early youth. Mr. O'Shea, however, was
an Irishman, and, in virtue of the fact, he had a light, jaunty,
semi-careless way with him, which is a soil of electroplate youth, and
looks like the real article, though it won't prove so lastin