of a hospitable mansion, a kind, almost friendly, host, a condescending Madame Mere, and daughters too!  Ah ye Gods!  But what is this;” and here, for the first time, lifting up my eyes, I perceived a beautiful water-colour drawing in the style of “Chalon,” which was placed above the chimney-piece.  I rose at once, and taking a candle, proceeded to examine it more minutely.  It was a portrait of Lady Jane, a full-length too, and wonderfully like; there was more complexion, and perhaps more roundness in the figure than her present appearance would justify; but if any thing was gained in brilliancy, it was certainly lost in point of expression; and I infinitely preferred her pale, but beautifully fair countenance, to the rosy cheek of the picture; the figure was faultless; the same easy grace, the result of perfect symmetry and refinement together, which only one in a thousand of even handsome girls possess, was pourtrayed to the life.  The more I looked, the more I felt charmed with it.  Never had I seen any thing so truly characteristic as this sketch, for it was scarcely more.  It was after nearly an hour’s quiet contemplation, that I began to remember the lateness of the night; an hour, in which my thoughts had rambled from the lovely object before me, to wonder at the situation in which I found myself placed; for there was so much of “empressement” towards me, in the manner of every member of the family, coupled with certain mistakes as to my habits and acquaintances, as left me perfectly unable to unravel the mystery which so evidently surrounded me.  “Perhaps,” thought I, “Sir Guy has written in my behalf to his lordship.  Oh, he would never do any thing half so civil.  Well, to be sure, I shall astonish them at head quarters; they’ll not believe this.  I wonder if Lady Jane saw my ‘Hamlet;’ for they landed in Cork from Bristol about that time.  She is indeed a most beautiful girl.  I wish I were a marquis, if it were only for her sake.  Well, my Lord Callonby, you may be a very wise man in the House of Lords; but, I would just ask, is it exactly prudent to introduce into your family on terms of such perfect intimacy, a young, fascinating, well-looking fellow, of four-and-twenty, albeit only a subaltern, with two such daughters as you have?  Peut etre!  One thing is certain—­I have no cause of complaint; and so, good night, Lady Jane”—­and with those words I fell asleep, to dream of the deepest blue eyes, and the most melting tones that ever reduced a poor lieutenant in a marching regiment to curse his fate, that he could not call the Commander of the Forces his father.