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"Gracious heaven! was ever any thing so fortunate! Now, Mr. O'Donagough, I shall have the pleasure of introducing you to some more of my connexions. You must remember Frederic Stephenson at Clifton-that is, I mean, you must remember my often talking about knowing him there."

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"Perfectly," replied Mr. O'Donagough gravely, reseating himself at the table; and no wonder you should have often mentioned him as a gay personage, if that is the style he usually travels in."

"He is a man of immense fortune, and such a dear creature!" said Mrs. O'Donagough, addressing Miss Perkins, and smiling as with a sort of tender recollection of past days.

"He is an old acquaintance, then?" said Miss Matilda, with nervous eagerness.

"Old acquaintance? Bless you, my dear! he is one of the nearest relations I have-by marriage.'

"And coming here unexpectedly in this way! Well to be sure, you are fortunate, Mrs. O'Donagough! Are you not delighted, Patty?"" "No, not I," replied the young lady. "I don't see the good of having relations, if one never sees 'em. I'm sure the Huberts might as well be at Jericho as at Brighton, for any thing we see of 'em."

"How can you talk such nonsense, Patty," said her vexed mother, "when you know that we have called there three times since the delightful evening they spent here, and have always heard where they were gone? They have always been driving into the country somewhere or other, to amuse my aunt Compton I suppose, and people can't be in two places at once, let them wish it ever so much."

"That's true, I'm sure, if ever any thing was," observed Miss Perkins, with energy. "The very nearest relations in the world can't always be as much together as they wish. And after what we saw the other night, my dear Miss Patty, you can't persuade us but what there's one of the party that wouldn't be very far from East Cliff, if he had his own way." "Come, come, Louisa Perkins! No tales out of school, if you please. Let me give you a little more Irish stew, to stop that mouth of yours," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, laughing. "Never mind her, Patty! Don't blush about it, cousins will be cousins all the world over.'

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"It is all very well to talk of drives into the country," said the judicious Matilda, taking her cue from Mrs. O'Donagough's evident delight in the subject; "it is all very possible. Nevertheless, people often throw dust without blinding the lookers on. I saw what I saw, and I know what I know. The general didn't marry so very young himself, remember and I suspect his opinion is, that young folks ought not to be too much in a hurry."

"There may be something in that, Matilda," replied Mrs. O'Donagough, nodding her head sagaciously. "We must not talk any thing about it yet. Captain Dartmoor, remember that this is all among friends, and must go no further."

"Did Stephenson play when he was here?" inquired Mr. Allen O'Donagough, addressing his military friend.

"Oh yes, I believe so!" was the reply. "He did every thing-rode races, gave balls, bespoke plays, got up raffles. There was something or other going on the whole time they stayed-and if you inquired, let it be what it might, you were sure to find that the Stephensons were at the bottom of it."

"What delightful people!" exclaimed Miss Matilda.

"Why yes," replied the lieutenant, looking towards Mrs. O'Donagough. It would be a good set to get into, certainly."

"But the worst of it is," said Mrs. O'Donagough, with more dignity and reserve of manner than was usual with her; "the worst of it is, that these sort of people are so very exclusive. Near relations, of course,

are excepted, but Frederic Stephenson, dear good-natured fellow as he was, and always particularly kind and flattering to me, even before he married my niece's half-sister, even he was always rather famous for giving himself airs."

A gentle sigh heaved the bosom of Matilda. Miss Louisa looked very grave, and shook her head, and the lieutenant seized the decanter of Mazooka, or Mortola, or Pontac, or Bondac, or whatever the mixture might be called which stood near him, and swallowed a glassful of it.

The result of a certain consultation held that night between Mr. and Mrs. Allen O'Donagough on the subject of this important arrival was that another call at General Herbert's house must be made on the following day, where, if they were not admitted, they might at least obtain intelligence as to the truth of Lieutenant Dartmoor's information.

The O'Donagough trio set off accordingly at a proper visiting hour on the following morning, dressed, one and all, with more than usual care, and determined that, if it were possible to avoid it, their trouble should not be in vain.

"Is Mrs. Hubert at home?" was the first question at the general's door. The servant hesitated, and Mrs. O'Donagough instantly made a movement in advance.

"I particularly wish to see my niece, if it be only for half a moment," said she.

"My mistress is just going out, ma'am," replied the man, standing rather pertinaciously in the doorway.

"It is only for one moment, and upon family business of importance," said Mrs. O'Donagough, making another step in advance, before which the man retired of necessity, but without quitting the handle of the door.

"Perhaps, ma'am, you would be pleased to leave word that you would call again?" said the servant.

"What do you say, Mr. O'D.? Suppose we do, and fix the time exactly, and then we shall be sure of seeing her."

"Do just as you please, my dear," replied Mr. Allen O'Donagough. "It will make no difference to me. Only," he added, in a whisper, "you may as well ask about the Stephensons."

"Then we will call again-exactly at five o'clock to-day. Please not to forget the message, James-I think your name is James? I am pretty sure I heard my niece call you James."

"Yes, ma'am, my name is James."

"Well then, James, I must insist upon it that my message is delivered exactly. A message from your mistress's own aunt, you know, ought not to be neglected. Give Agnes-give your mistress, I mean-my most affectionate love, and Miss O'Donagough's love, and Mr. O'Donagough's compliments, and say that we shall call again precisely at five o'clock." "Yes, ma'am," said the man, advancing a step in his turn, and bringing the door with him.

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Stop one moment, if you please," said Mrs. O'Donagough, laying

"Can you tell me,

her palm firmly on the outward side of the door. James, if the Stephensons arrived yesterday? Frederic Stephenson, Í mean, who married your mistress's sister, you know."

The man looked rather surprised, either at the question or the manner of it, but answered, "Yes, ma'am."

"And where are they? Of course they can't all be here-three carriages-servants outside, and all?"

"No, ma'am, they went directly to their own lodgings."
"Then please to give me their address directly."
"Mr. Stephenson has taken

last year."

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O'D.?"

House, ma'am, the same he had

House. Whereabouts is it? Do you know

House, Mr.

Mr. O'D. did not, but the servant gave the full address, and at length succeeded in shutting the house-door.

"Now, then, let us go there directly," cried Mrs. O'Donagough. "It is no good beating about the bush. Let us take our chance at once. If they choose to be civil, why so much the better, and if not, why we can't help it, and the sooner we know it, the better."

To this reasoning Mr. O'Donagough made no objection; and after toiling a considerable distance through unmitigated sunshine, somewhat to the injury of his lady's rouge, and not much to the advantage of his daughter's temper, they at length reached the handsome mansion to which they had been directed. Mr. O'Donagough stoutly pulled the bell, more stoutly than the well-hung instrument required; and the tintamarre thus produced occasioned an instantaneous throwing wide of the folding doors, disclosing to the dazzled visiters a handsome hall, which at the first glance seemed half-filled with livery servants. The green and gold, recognised by Lieutenant Dartmoor, was indeed there, and in great abundance, but set off with such richness of plush and profusion of lace and tassels, that the great soul of Mrs. Allen O'Donagough almost felt daunted. Till that moment she had conceived that the establishment of General Hubert was perfectly splendid, but thenceforward she rarely named the family without observing that nothing could be more unpretending and quiet than their manner of living-merely a butler and two footmen, besides the coachman and grooms;-but always adding, that to be sure nothing could be more striking than the contrast between the two sisters in their style of doing things-the establishment of her brother Willoughby's second daughter being really almost royal in its magnificence.

An answer in the affirmative being returned to their inquiry if Mrs. Stephenson were at home, their names were received, and passed from mouth to mouth till the sound of Mr., Mrs., and Miss O'Donagough made the lofty staircase ring again.

Mrs. O'Donagough, with an effort worthy of her powerful mind, immediately recovered her self-possession, and gracefully shaking her plumes, marched up the stairs in unblenched majesty. Mr. O'Donagough followed, looking as demure as a newly-created bishop, while the young lady, with wide-staring eyes, and a countenance indicative of something approaching dismay, closed the procession.

On reaching the drawing-room door, Mrs. O'Donagough paused for a moment till her husband and daughter were beside her, and then stepped forward, determined that nothing, short of her being turned out

of the room, should prevent her establishing her claim to connexionship with all the grandeur she beheld. The first room they entered was exactly in the style of decoration most likely to enchant the senses of Mrs. O'Donagough, being of that florid character which is calculated to ensure a rent of forty guineas per week at a watering-place. As it was untenanted, she ventured to exchange an expressive glance with her husband but the man in green and gold stalked on, and another pair of folding doors being thrown wide before them, disclosed a room with an immense semicircular window opening upon a balcony, which commanded a magnificent view of the sea.

In this balcony stood two gentlemen, the one arranging a spy-glass on its trellis-work, for the accommodation of the other; while a third, whom Patty instantly recognised as her cousin Compton, was assisting a little fellow in a fantastic fancy-dress, composed of blue silk and white muslin, to climb in the most dangerous manner possible to the roof of the frail construction. Close beside the window, on a couch placed perfectly in the shade, though all without was sunshine, reclined nearly at full length, an extremely delicate-looking little woman, with a profusion of light ringlets about her face. Her robe, of the finest muslin, lined with the prettiest shade of pink, was profusely decorated with lace, her small feet accommodated with quilted satin slippers of the same pale colour, and her slender fingers, sparkling with gems, employed luxuriously in arranging a bouquet of flowering myrtle, and gorgeous geranium-blossoms.

This pretty and very picturesque lady raised a glass to her eye as the strangers were announced. Let them have been whom they would, she could hardly have risen, so difficult would her attitude, and the multitude of flowers in her lap, have rendered the attempt, had she made it. But this she did not do; and her eye-glass failing to supply the information which their names did not convey, she turned it from her visiters to the servant who had ushered them to her presence, and pronounced the word "Who?"

This was not promising, any more than the puzzled air with which, after the name had again been distinctly pronounced, she shook her head, and in a soft, and somewhat lisping voice added, “I fear there is some mistake."

"I cannot be surprised at your not knowing me, my dear Mrs. Stephenson," said Mrs. O'Donagough, pushing away a little work-table, and placing herself close to the sofa, "but I think you must have heard your sister Agnes mention her aunt.-Perhaps you may recal the name of Barnaby?"

"Mrs. Barnaby? Oh dear yes, certainly!" replied Mrs. Stephenson, slightly colouring, and slightly smiling at the same time. "I have heard of you very often. Is that tall lady your daughter? Pray sit down. Sit down, sir," with a wave of the hand to Mr. O'Donagough, which seemed to indicate rather a more distant part of the room for his station. Then turning to a flaxen sylph, of some ten or twelve years old, who was threading beads, she said,

"Go out, Agnes, and tell your papa, and your grandpapa, that Mrs. Barnaby is here."

"No longer Mrs. Barnaby, my dear madam. Give me leave to introduce Mr. O'Donagough, my husband, and Miss O'Donagough, my daughter."

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