Then, in the gaping silence, the three ladies listened to the melancholy harper and the lachrymose fiddlers who, on the estrade in the far corner, sat tuning their instruments.  At last the people began to come in.  The first were a few stray blackcoats, then feminine voices were heard in the passages, and necks and arms, green toilettes and white satin shoes, were seen passing and taking seats.  Two Miss Duffys, the fattest of the four, were with their famous sister Bertha.  Bertha was rarely seen in Galway; she lived with an aunt in Dublin, where her terrible tongue was dreaded by the debutantes at the Castle.  In a yellow dress as loud and as hard as her voice, she stood explaining that she had come down expressly for the ball.  Opposite, the Honourable Miss Gores made a group of five; and a few men who preferred consideration to amusement made their way towards them.  The Brennans—­Gladys and Zoe—­as soon as they saw Alice, asked after Lord Dungory; and all the girls were anxious to see Violet, who they feared would seem thin in a low dress.

Hers was the charm of an infinite fragility.  The bosom, whose curves were so faint that they were epicene, was set in a bodice of white broche, joining a skirt of white satin, with an overskirt of tulle, and the only touch of colour was a bunch of pink and white azaleas worn on the left shoulder.  And how irresistibly suggestive of an Indian carved ivory were the wee foot, the thin arm, the slender cheek!

‘How sweet you look, Violet,’ said Alice, with frank admiration in her eyes.

’Thanks for saying so; ’tisn’t often we girls pay each other compliments.  But you, you do look ever so nice in that white silk.  It becomes you perfectly.’  And then, her thoughts straying suddenly from Alice’s dress, she said: 

’Do you see Mr. Burke over there?  If his brother died he would be a marquis.  Do you know him?’

‘Yes; I met him at dinner at Dungory Castle.’

‘Well, introduce him to me if you get a chance.’

‘I am afraid you will find him stupid.’

’Oh, that doesn’t matter; ’tis good form to be seen dancing with an Honourable.  Do you know many men in the room?’

Alice admitted she knew no one, and, lapsing into silence, the girls scanned the ranks for possible partners.  Poor Sir Richard, already very drunk, his necktie twisted under his right ear, was vainly attempting to say something to those whom he knew, or fancied he knew.  Sir Charles, forgetful of the family at home, was flirting with a young girl whose mother was probably formulating the details of a new emigration scheme.  Dirty Mr. Ryan, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his baggy trousers, whispered words of counsel to Mr. Lynch:  a rumour had gone abroad that Captain Hibbert was going to hunt that season in Galway, and would want a couple of horses.  Mr. Adair was making grotesque attempts to talk to a lady of dancing.  On every side voices were heard speaking of the distances they had achieved:  some had driven twenty, some thirty miles.