XVI

During the Dublin Season it is found convenient to give teas:  the young ladies have to be introduced to the men they will meet after at the Castle.  These gatherings take place at five o’clock in the afternoon; and as Mrs. Barton started from the Shelbourne Hotel for Lady Georgina Stapleton’s, she fell to thinking that a woman is never really vulnerable until she is bringing out her daughters.  Till then the usual shafts directed against her virtue fall harmlessly on either side, but now they glance from the marriage buckler and strike the daughter in full heart.  In the ball-room, as in the forest, the female is most easily assailed when guarding her young, and nowhere in the whole animal kingdom is this fact so well exemplified as in Dublin Castle.

Lady Georgina lived in Harcourt Street, and it was on her way thither that something like a regret rose up in Mrs. Barton that she had (she was forced to confess it) aroused the enmity of women, and persistently.

Lady Georgina Stapleton was Lord Dungory’s eldest sister.  She, too, hated Mrs. Barton; but, being poor (Milord used to call himself the milch-cow), she found herself, like the Ladies Cullen, occasionally obliged to smile upon and extend a welcoming hand to the family enemy; and when Mrs. Barton came to Dublin for the Castle Season, a little pressure was put upon Lady Georgina to obtain invitations from the Chamberlain; the ladies exchanged visits, and there the matter ended, as Mrs. Barton and her daughter passed through Stephen’s Green, and she remembered that she had never taken the trouble to conceal her dislike of the house in Harcourt Street, and some of the hard things she had said when standing on the box-seat of a drag at Punchestown Races had travelled back and had found a lasting resting-place in Lady Georgina’s wrathful memory.

‘This is considered to be the most artistic house in Dublin,’ said Mrs. Barton, as the servant showed them upstairs.

‘How lovely the camellias look,’ said Olive.

’And now, Alice, mind, none of your Liberalism in this house, or you will ruin your sister’s chances.’

Lady Georgina wore a wig, or her hair was arranged so as to look like one.  Fifty years had rubbed away much of her youthful ugliness; and, in the delicate twilight of her rooms, her aristocratic bearing might be mistaken for good looks.

Lady Georgina was a celebrated needlewoman, and she was now begging Lord Kilcarney to assist her at a charity bazaar.  Few people had yet arrived; and when Harding was announced, Mrs. Barton whispered: 

‘Here’s your friend, Alice; don’t miss your chance.’

Then every moment bevies of girls came in and were accommodated with seats, and if possible with young men.  Teacups were sent down to be washed, and the young men were passed from group to group.  The young ladies smiled and looked delightful, and spoke of dancing and tennis until, replying to an imperative glance from their chaperons, from time to time they rose to leave; but, obeying a look of supplication from their hostess, the young men remained.