“Bryan,” said he, “there will be mistakes in the best of families.  I hate enmity.  How, do you do?”

Bryan nodded, and replied, “Pretty well, Hycy—­how are you?”

Cavanagh and his wife were evidently quite delighted to see him; the good man rose and made him take his own seat, and Mrs. Cavanagh paid him every conceivable mark of attention.

“Mrs. Cavanagh,” said he, after some chat, “may I be permitted to indulge in the felicity of a dance with Miss Cavanagh?”

“Which of them?” asked the mother, and then added, without waiting for a reply—­“to be sure you may.”

“The felicity of a dance! that was well expressed, Mr. Hycy; but it was not for nothing that you broke grammatical ground under Patricius Finigan—­ah, no; the early indoctrinations will tell;—­that is clear.”

“I mean Miss Kathleen,” replied Hycy, without paying any attention to Finigan’s observations.

“Why not?” exclaimed both; “of course you will—­go over and bring her out.”

Hycy, approaching her, said, in his blandest and most persuasive manner, “Miss Cavanagh, will you allow me the gratification of dancing a reel with you?”

“I’m obliged to you, Mr. Burke,” she replied gravely; “I have just danced a reel with Bryan M’Mahon here, and I don’t intend to dance any more to-night.”

“A simple reel?” said Hycy; “perhaps you will so far favor me?  I shall consider it as a favor, I assure you.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Burke, but I won’t dance any more to-night.”

“That’s hard,” he replied, “especially as I came all the way to have that pleasure.  Perhaps you will change your mind, Miss Cavanagh?”

“I’m not in the habit of changing my mind, Mr. Burke,” she replied, “and I don’t see any reason why I should do so now.  I say once for all that I won’t dance any more to-night.”

“What is it,” asked the mother, on perceiving her hesitation; “won’t she dance wid you?  Hut, tut, Kathleen, what nonsense is this?  To be sure you must dance wid Mr. Burke; don’t take any refusal, Mr. Burke—­is that all you know about girls.—­sure nineteen refusals is aquil to one consent.  Go over, Gerald, and make her dance wid him,” she added, turning to her husband.

“What’s the matter, Kathleen, that you won’t dance wid Mr. Hycy?” asked the good man.

“Because I have danced all I will dance to-night, father.”

“Tut, nonsense, you foolish girl—­it’s proud you ought to be that he’d ax you.  Get up and dance a reel wid him.”

Hanna, who knew her sister’s resolution when once formed, immediately came to her rescue.  “Don’t ask her, father,” she said; “the truth is, that I believe she has a headache—­however, I’ll take her place—­have you any objection to me, Mr. Burke?”

None in the world—­he would be very happy—­only he regretted that he could not have that pleasure also with his sister.