Secrets, what secrets were held on the subject of the presentation dresses!  The obscure Hill was bound with a white frill of anticipation.  Olive’s fame had gone forth.  She was admitted to be the new Venus, and Lord Kilcarney was spoken of as likely to yield to her the coveted coronet.  Would he marry her without so much as looking at another girl? was the question on every lip, and in the jealousy thus created the appraisers of Violet’s beauty grew bolder.  Her thinness was condoned, and her refinement insisted upon.  Nor were May Gould and her chances overlooked by the gossips of Merrion Square.  Her flirtation with Fred Scully was already a topic of conversation.

Alice knew she was spoken of pityingly, but she hungered little after the praise of the Dubliners, and preferred to stay at home and talk to Harding in the ladies’ drawing-room rather than follow her mother and sister in their wild hunt after Lord Kilcarney.  Through the afternoon teas of Merrion Square and Stephen’s Green the chase went merrily.

XVII

On the night of the Drawing-Room, February 20, 1882, the rain rushed along the streets; wind, too, had risen, and, threatening to tear every window from its sash, it careered in great gusts.  Sky there was none, nor sight of anything save when the lightning revealed the outline of the housetops.  The rattling and the crashing of the thunder was fearsome, and often, behind their closely drawn curtains, the girls trembled, and, covering their faces with their hands, forgot the article of clothing they were in search of.  In their rooms all was warm and snug, and gay with firelight and silk; the chaperons had whispered that warm baths were advisable, and along the passages the ladies’-maids passed hurriedly, carrying cans of hot water, sponges, and drying-sheets.

Alice and Olive slept in two rooms on the third floor, on either side of their mother; May and Mrs. Gould were on the fourth, and next to May was Fred Scully, who, under the pretext of the impossibility of his agreeing with his mother concerning the use of a latch-key, had lately moved into the hotel.  May was deeply concerned in Fred’s grievance, and, discussing it, or the new Shelbourne scandal—­the loves of the large lady and the little man at the other end of the corridor—­they lingered about each other’s bedroom-doors.  Alice could now hear them talking as they descended the staircase together; then a burst of smothered laughter, and May came in to see her.

‘Oh, how nice you look!’

’If you don’t “mash” Mr. Harding to-night, he’ll be a tough one indeed.  Did I tell you I was talking to him yesterday in the ladies’ drawing-room?  He is very enticing, but I can’t quite make him out:  I think he despises us all; all but you; about you he said all kinds of nice things—­that you were so clever, and nice, and amusing.  And tell me, dear,’ said May, in her warm, affectionate way, ’do you really like him—­you know what I mean?’