I awoke refreshed after half-an-hour's doze, and then every circumstance
of the whole day was clear and palpable before me. I remembered each
minute particular, and could bring to my mind all the details of the
race itself, notwithstanding the excitement they had passed in, and the
rapidity with which they succeeded one another.
My first thought was to visit poor Joe; and creeping stealthily to his
room, I opened the door. The poor fellow was fast asleep. His features
had already become coloured with fever, and a red hectic spot on either
cheek told that the work of mischief had begun; yet still his sleep was
tranquil, and a half smile curled; his bloodless lips. On his bed
his old hunting-cap was placed, a bow of white and green ribbons--the
colours I wore--fastened gaudily in the front; upon this, doubtless,
he had been gazing to the last moment of his waking. I now stole
noiselessly back, and began a letter to O'Grady, whose anxiety as to the
result would, I knew, be considerable.
It was not without pride, I confess, that I narrated the events of the
day; yet when I came to that part of my letter in which Joe was to be
mentioned, I could not avoid a sense of shame in acknowledging the cruel
contrast between _my_ conduct and _his_ gratitude. I did not attempt
to theorise upon what he had done, for I felt that O'Grady's better
knowledge of his countrymen would teach him to sound the depths of a
motive, the surface of which I could but skim. I told him frankly that
the more I saw of Ireland the less I found I knew about it; so much
of sterling good seemed blended with unsettled notions and unfixed
opinions; such warmth of heart, such frank cordiality, with such traits
of suspicion and distrust, that I could make nothing of them. Either,
thought I, these people are born to present the anomaly of all that is
most opposite and contradictory in human nature, or else the fairest
gifts that ever graced manhood have been perverted and abused by
mismanagement and misguidance.
I had just finished my letter when Bob Mahon drove up, his honest face
radiant with smiles and good-humour.
'Well, Hinton,' cried he, 'the whole thing is properly settled. The
money is paid over; and if you are writing to O'Grady, you may mention
that he can draw on the Limerick bank, at sight if he pleases. There's
time enough, however, for all this; so get up beside me. We've only half
an hour to do our five miles, and dress for dinner.'
I took my place beside the Major; and as we flew fast through the air,
the cool breeze and his enlivening conversation rallied and refreshed
me. Such was our pace that we had ten minutes to spare, as we entered a
dark avenue of tall beech-trees, and a few seconds after arrived at the
door of a large old-fashioned-looking manor-house, on the steps of which
stood Hugh Dillon himself, in all the plenitude of a white waistcoat
and black-silk tights. While he hurried me to a dressing-room, he
overwhelmed me with felicitations on the result of the day.
'You'll think it strange, Mr. Hinton,' said he, 'that I should
congratulate you, knowing that Mr. Burke is a kind of relation of mine;
but I have heard so much of your kindness to my niece Louisa, that I
cannot but rejoice in your success.'
'I should rather,' said I, 'for many reasons, had it been more
legitimately obtained; and, indeed, were I not acting for another, I
doubt how far I should feel justified in considering myself a winner.'
'My dear sir,' interrupted Dillon, 'the laws of racing are imperative in
the matter; besides, had you waived your right, all who backed you must
have lost their money.'
'For that matter,' said I, laughing, 'the number of my supporters was
tolerably limited.'
'No matter for that; and even if you had not a single bet upon you,
Ulick's conduct, in the beginning, deserved little favour at your
hands.'
'I confess,' said I, 'that there you have touched on the saving clause
to my feeling of shame. Had Mr. Burke conducted himself in a different
spirit towards my friend and myself, I should feel sorely puzzled this
minute.'
'Quite right, quite right,' said Dillon; 'and now try if you can't make
as much haste with your toilette as you did over the clover-field.'
Within a quarter of an hour I made my appearance in the drawing-room,
now crowded with company, the faces of many among whom I remembered
having seen in the morning. Mr. Dillon was a widower, but his
daughters--three fine, tall, handsome-looking girls--did the honours.
While I was making my bows to them, Miss Bellew came forward, and with
an eye bright with pleasure held out her hand towards me.
'I told you, Mr. Hinton, we should meet in the west. Have I been as good
a prophetess in saying that you would like it?'
'If it afforded me but this one minute,' said I, in a half-whisper.
'Dinner!' said the servant, and at the same moment that scene of
pleasant confusion ensued that preludes the formal descent of a party to
the dining-room.
The host had gracefully tucked a large lady under his arm, beside whose
towering proportions he looked pretty much like what architects call 'a
lean-to,' superadded to a great building. He turned his eye towards me
to go and do likewise, with a significant glance at a heaving mass of
bugles and ostrich feathers that sat panting on a sofa. I parried the
stroke, however, by drawing Miss Bellow's arm within mine, while I
resigned the post of honour to my little friend the Major.
The dinner passed off like all other dinners. There was the same routine
of eating and drinking, and pretty much the same ritual of table-talk.
As a kind of commentary on the superiority of natural gifts over the
affected and imitated graces of society, I could not help remarking that
those things which figured on the table of homely origin were actually
luxurious, while the exotic resources of the cookery were, in every
instance, miserable failures. Thus the fish was excellent, and the
mutton perfect, while the _fricandeau_ was atrocious, and the _petits
pâtés_ execrable.
Should my taste be criticised, that with a lovely girl beside me, for
whom I already felt a strong attachment, I could thus set myself to
criticise the cookery, in lieu of any other more agreeable occupation,
let my apology be, that my reflection was an apropos, called forth by
comparing Louisa Bellew with her cousins the Dillons. I have said they
were handsome girls; they were more--they were beautiful. They had
all that fine pencilling of the eyebrow, that deep, square orbit, so
characteristically Irish, which gives an expression to the eye, whatever
be its colour, of inexpressible softness; their voices too, albeit the
accent was provincial, were soft and musical, and their manners quiet
and ladylike--yet, somehow, they stood immeasurably apart from her.
I have already ventured on one illustration from the cookery, may I take
another from the cellar? How often in wines of the same vintage, of even
the same cask, do we find one bottle whose bouquet is more aromatic,
whose flavour is richer, whose colour is more purely brilliant!
There seems to be no reason why this should be so, nor is the secret
appreciable to our senses; however, the fact is incontestable. So among
women. You meet some half-dozen in an evening party, equally beautiful,
equally lovely; yet will there be found one among the number towards
whom, without any assignable cause, more eyes are turned, and more looks
bent; around whose chair more men are found to linger, and in whose
slightest word some cunning charm seems ever mingled. Why is this so?
I confess I cannot tell you; but trust me for the fact. If, however, it
will satisfy you that I adduce an illustration--Louisa Bellew was one of
these. With all the advantages of a cultivated mind, she possessed that
fearlessness that only girls really innocent of worldly trickery and
deceit ever have; and thus, while her conversation ranged far beyond the
limits the cold ordeal of fashion would prescribe to a London beauty,
the artless enthusiasm of her manner was absolutely captivating.
In Dublin the most marked feature about her was an air of lofty pride
and hauteur, by which, in the mixed society of Rooney's house, was she
alone enabled to repel the obtrusive and impertinent attentions it was
the habit of the place to practise. Surrounded by those who resorted
there for a lounge, it was a matter of no common difficulty for her, a
young and timid girl, to assert her own position, and exact the respect
that was her due. Here, however, in her uncle's house, it was quite
different. Relieved from all performance of a part, she was natural,
graceful, and easy; and her spirits, untrammelled by the dread of
misconstruction, took their own free and happy flight without fear and
without reproach.
When we returned to the drawing-room, seated beside her, I entered into
an explanation of all my proceedings since my arrival in the country,
and had the satisfaction to perceive that not only did she approve of
everything I had done, but, assuming a warmer interest than I could
credit in my fortunes, she counselled me respecting the future.
Supposing that my success might induce me to further trials of my
horseman ship, she cautioned me about being drawn into any matches or
wagers.
'My cousin Ulick,' said she, 'is one of those who rarely let a prey
escape them. I speak frankly to you, for I know I may do so; therefore,
I would beseech you to take care of him, and, above all things, do not
come into collision with him. I have told you, Mr. Hinton, that I wish
you to know my father. For this object, it is essential you should
have no misunderstanding with my cousin; for although his whole conduct
through life has been such as to grieve and afflict him, yet the feeling
for his only sister's child has sustained him against all the
rumours and reports that have reached him, and even against his own
convictions.'
'You have, indeed,' said I, 'suggested a strong reason for keeping
well with your cousin. My heart is not only bent on being known to your
father, but, if I dare hope it, on being liked by him also.'
'Yes, yes,' said she quickly, blushing while she spoke, 'I am sure he'll
like you--and I know you'll like him. Our house, perhaps I should tell
you, is not a gay one. We lead a secluded and retired life; and this
has had its effect upon my poor father, giving a semblance of
discontent--only a semblance, though--to a nature mild, manly, and
benevolent.'
She paused an instant, and, as if fearing that she had been led away
to speak of things she should not have touched upon, added with a more
lively tone--
'Still, we may contrive to amuse you. You shall have plenty of fishing
and coursing, the best shooting in the west, and, as for scenery, I'll
answer for it you are not disappointed.'
While we chatted thus, the time rolled on, and at last the clock on the
mantel-piece apprised us that it was time to set out for the ball. This,
as it may be believed, was anything but a promise of pleasure to me.
With Louisa Bellew beside me, talking in a tone of confidential intimacy
she had never ventured on before, I would have given worlds to have
remained where I was. However, the thing was impossible; 'the ball! the
ball!' passed from lip to lip, and already the carriages were assembled
before the door, and cloaks, hoods, and mantles were distributed on all
sides.
Resolving, at all events, to secure Miss Bellew as my fellow-traveller,
I took her arm to lead her downstairs.
'Holloa, Hinton!' cried the Major, 'you 're coming with me, ain't you?'
I got up a tremendous fit of coughing, as I stammered out an apology
about night-air, etc.
'Ah, true, my poor fellow,' said the simple-hearted Bob; 'you must take
care of yourself--this has been a severe day's work for you.'
'With such a heavy cold,' said Louisa, laughing, as her bright eyes
sparkled with fun, 'perhaps you 'll take a seat in our carriage.'
I pressed her arm gently and murmured my assent, assisted her in, and
placed myself beside her.