out the agonizing tune more screechingly than ever; and as the delirium of the dance fevered this horde of well-bred people the desire to exercise, their animal force grew irresistible, and they charged, intent on each other’s overthrow.  In the onset, the vast shoulders and the deux temps were especially successful.  One couple had gone down splendidly before him, another had fallen over the prostrate ones; and in a moment, in positions more or less recumbent, eight people were on the floor.  Fears were expressed for the tight dresses, and Violet had shown more of her thin ankles than was desirable; but the climax was not reached until a young man, whose unsteady legs forbade him this part of the fun, established himself in a safe corner, and commenced to push the people over as they passed him.  This was the signal for the flight of the chaperons.

‘Now come along, Miss Barton,’ cried Mrs. Barton, catching sight of Alice; ‘and will you, Lord Dungory, look after Olive?’

Lord Rosshill collected the five Honourable Miss Gores, the Miss Brennans drew around Mrs. Scully, who, without taking the least notice of them, steered her way.

And so ended, at least so far as they were concerned, the ball given by the spinsters of the county of Galway.  But the real end?  On this subject much curiosity was evinced.

The secret was kept for a time, but eventually the story leaked out that, overcome by the recollections of still pleasanter evenings spent under the hospitable roof of the Mayo bachelor, Mr. Ryan, Mr. Lynch and Sir Charles had brought in the maid-servants, and that, with jigs for waltzes, and whiskey for champagne, the gaiety had not been allowed to die until the day was well begun.  Bit by bit and fragment by fragment the story was pieced together, and, in the secrecy of their bedrooms, with little smothered fits of laughter, the young ladies told each other how Sir Charles had danced with the big housemaid, how every time he did the cross-over he had slapped her on the belly; and then, with more laughter, they related how she had said:  ’Now don’t, Sir Charles, I forbid you to take such liberties.’  And it also became part of the story that, when they were tired of even such pleasures as these, the gentlemen had gone upstairs to where the poor man with the broken leg was lying, and had, with whiskey and song, relieved his sufferings until the Galway train rolled into Ballinasloe.

XI

’Goodness me!  Alice; how can you remain up here all alone, and by that smouldering fire?  Why don’t you come downstairs?  Papa says he is quite satisfied with the first part of the tune, but the second won’t come right; and, as mamma had a lot to say to Lord Dungory, I and Captain Hibbert sat out in the passage together.  He told me he liked the way I arrange my hair.  Do tell me, dear, if you think it suits me?’

‘Very well, indeed; but what else did Captain Hibbert say to you?’