Diana of the Crossways, v1

f a British hero of Irish blood, after his victorious Indian campaign; a mighty struggle splendidly ended; and truly coul

tter when, and never mind a drop or two of cloud, he would come down them again, and have an Irish cheer to freshen his pillow. For 'tis Ireland gives England her soldiers, her generals too. Farther away, over field and bogland, the whiskies did their excellent ancient service of watering the dry and drying the damp, to the toast of 'Lord Larrian, God bless him! he's an honour to the old country!' and a bit of a sigh to follow, hints of a story, and

a cavalry officer, though somewhat a giant, equally happy with his chief in passing the troops of animated ladies under review. He named as many as were known to him. Reviewing women exquisitely attired for inspection, all variously and charmingly smiling, is a relief after the monotonous regiments of men. Ireland had done her best to present the hero of her

is

. 'She 's a new bird;

l a

ef was, that the handsome creature answered to the name of Miss Merion; Irish; aged somewhere between eighteen and

e day of my sailing for India,' said t

of the waltz, with her dark eyes for Lady Dunstan

r, to Lady Dunstane, beside whom a seat was vacated for

been able to tell you. Let me hear that you admire her: it pleases me;

ouldn't?' sa

l expressly to dance he

honour

st person falls to second r

grandly

g in the room dust r

my father and Mr. Dan Merion were chums. We were parted by my marriage and the voyage to India. We have not yet exchanged a syllable: she was snapped up, of course, the moment she entered the room. I knew she would be

ul shake of the head. 'My poorest subaltern!' he sighed, in the theatric

icher than he in the wherew

name in addit

ion. Tony to me, D

ves ove

re; wherever she is ta

chiefly

onest

he's I

was Irish to the

a trip of little runs, both hands out, all her face one tender sparkle of a

dear

me but for the hope

urried acknowledgement of his cour

ut you're not still ill, dear? Say no! That Indian fever mus

tired me. Why w

only two hours late for the Ball; so we did wonders. And good Mrs. Pettigrew is, pining somewhere to complete her adornment. I was in the crush, spying for Emmy, when Mr. M

as the

bs from the lighted st

m a ceremonious bo

first!

and in expectation. He and the Beauty were named to one another, and they chatted through a q

'you remember, in India, my pointing to you his name in a newspaper-

th Lord Larrian. Beauty is rare; luckily is it rare, or, judging from its effect on men, and the very stoutest of them, our world would be internally more distracted planet than we see, to the perversion of business, courtesy, rights of

into a brave old laugh

n? Ah! women! Weather and women? No; the one point

e what the Gene

he trap with promptitude. 'She

ne mentione

speech, Mr. Redworth bungled it; he owned he spoilt it, and candidly stated his inability to see the fun. 'She said, St. George's Chan

e pursued, and they both, while in seeming converse, caught

ian, 'You really decline to make any

o it on two stilts; I can't on o

inspiration coming to it from its partner

e. 'My dear young lady, you s

u fixed on me the stigma of saying dark things, I

ou flash too br

scence of the tooth that receive

er words to himself, diminishing their importance as he stamped them on his memory, but so heartily admiring the lovely

n his memory, to see subsequently whether they had a vestige of meaning. Terrifically precocious, he thought her. Lady Dunstane, in her quick sympathy w

confuse the hearing

quite unaware of the pretender's presence; whereupon a voice was heard: 'Oh! if it was minuetting you meant before the lady, I'd never have disputed your right to perform, sir.' For it seemed that there were two claimants in the field, an Irishman and an Englishman; and the former, having a livelier sense of the situation, hung aloof in waiting for her eye; the latter directed

all- room. I have seen them in danger, and there they shine first of any, and one is proud of them. They should always be facing the element

glish disadvantage. A whiff of Celtic hostility in the atmosph

tleman bowed to Lady Dun

Smith . . . at

possession of the loveliest of partners for this particular ensuing dance, and that they had simultaneously made a rush from the Lower Courts, namely, their cards, to the Upper, being the lady;

g his claim when the young lady stood pre-engaged, as w

cing enough after

nal to the buffet. See, my lady, the gentleman, as we call him; there he is working his gamut perpetually up to da capo. Oh! but it's a sheep trying to be wolf; he 's

of us couldn't have written that, and hadn't done it!' Mr. Sullivan Smith groaned disgusted. He hated bad manners, particularly in cases involving ladies; and the bad manners of a Saxon fired his antagonism to the race; individual members of which he boasted of

lifting of the brows at her friend. Lady Dunstan

bound i

neral. He is so delightful and modest-my dream of a true soldie

r a square dance down t

lon, Mr. Redworth: he w

totally absorb you,

lari

remarked: 'Oh! sir, the law of it, where a lady's concerned! You're one for evictions, I should guess, and the anti-human process.

ive engagement,

retty partner you've pickled for yoursel

y vein. He interjected: 'Irish men and English women! though it's putting the cart before the horse-the copper pennies where the gold guineas should be. So here's the gentleman w

Dunstane, at the same time informing the obedient Diana, then bestowing her hand

. 'You gave them just the start over the frozen minute for conversation; they were total strangers, and he doesn't appear a bad sort of fellow for a temporary mate, though he's not perfectly sure of his legs. And that we'l

r was half

you spoke of their coupling-or I did. Oh, a man can hold his own with an English roly-poly mate: he's not stifled! But a woman hasn't his power of resistance to dead weight. She's volatile, she's

r opinion that her couple

g to see, if the fello

Mr. Sullivan Smith. 'I

k Pearl, and the Irish

oor brains to get

to you,' said

f the land were like you, my lady, I'd be loyal to the fin

and she ought to have five go

rs of serfdom I'd

chance for Mr. Sullivan Smith; after a life of bondage, if she knew her Diana,

freshments,' she said; and 'this is my refreshment,'

that gentleman's nam

y to coquette with the

said he

th the G

noble o

and his height and his grey head, he is like a glor

ourite of her childhood, as Lady Dunstane well remembered,

ll write ve

em, riding across the field to give the word of command to the couple of regiments, riddled to threads, that gained the day. That is life-when we dare deat

But you have not told me a word of yourself

erably good connections, middling wealthy, I suppose, of the name of Warwick, and, as far as I can understand, they stick there to be near the Sussex Downs, for a nephew, who likes to ride on them. I've a half engagement, barely legible, to visit

my da

ost when I cease to be one soul with you, dear and dearest! No secrets, never a shadow of a decep

pious letters wh

ay he has a head. I read of his deeds in India and quivered. But he was just a bit in the way. Men are the barriers to perfect naturalness, at least, w

ro; the other the Beauty. These half moons imperceptibly

urious impertinence. She was getting used to it, and her friend had a g

the world-dinners,

e are

propo

bbl

heart

olut

ight face defied all

ed his group of satellites by a movement with the Mayoress on his