and her daughters received a very warm invitation, which they were delighted to accept.  Sophy and Augusta were in the seventh heaven of happiness, for they were to form a portion of the fair bevy of bridesmaids appointed to attend Fanny Wyndham to the altar.  Frank rather pished and poohed at all these preparations of grandeur; he felt that when the ceremony took place he would look like the ornamental calf in the middle of it; but, on the whole, he bore his martyrdom patiently.  Four spanking bays, and a new chariot ordered from Hutton’s, on the occasion, would soon carry him away from the worst part of it.

Lord Cashel was in the midst of his glory:  he had got an occupation and he delighted in it.  Lady Selina performed her portion of the work with exemplary patience and attention.  She wrote all the orders to the tradesmen, and all the invitations; she even condescended to give advice to Fanny about her dress; and to Griffiths, about the arrangement of the rooms and tables.  But poor Lady Cashel worked the hardest of all,—­her troubles had no end.  Had she known what she was about to encounter, when she undertook the task of superintending the arrangements for her niece’s wedding, she would never have attempted it:  she would never have entered into negotiations with that treacherous Murray—­that man cook in Dublin—­but have allowed Mrs Richards to have done her best,—­or her worst,—­in her own simple way, in spite of the Duchess and the Bishop, and the hopes of a royal Prince indulged in by Lord Cashel.  She did not dare to say as much to her husband, but she confessed to Griffiths that she was delighted when she heard His Royal Highness would not come.  She was sure his coming would not make dear Fanny a bit happier, and she really would not have known what to do with him after the married people were gone.

Frank received two letters from Dot Blake during his stay at Grey Abbey.  In the former he warmly congratulated him on his approaching nuptials, and strongly commended him on his success in having arranged matters.  “You never could have forgiven yourself,” he said, “had you allowed Miss Wyndham’s splendid fortune to slip through your hands.  I knew you were not the man to make a vain boast of a girl’s love, and I was therefore sure that you might rely on her affection.  I only feared you might let the matter go too far.  You know I strongly advised you not to marry twenty thousand pounds.  I am as strongly of opinion that you would be a fool to neglect to marry six times as much.  You see I still confine myself to the money part of the business, as though the lady herself were of no value.  I don’t think so, however; only I know you never would have lived happily without an easy fortune.”  And then he spoke of Brien Boru, and informed Lord Ballindine that that now celebrated nag was at the head of the list of the Derby horses; that it was all but impossible to get any odds against him at all;—­that the whole betting world were talking of nothing else; that three conspiracies had been detected, the object of which was to make him safe—­that is, to make him very unsafe to his friends; that Scott’s foreman had been offered two thousand to dose him; and that Scott himself slept in the stable with him every night, to prevent anything like false play.