There was nothing more said about the shoes, and I was soon again at my ease, although Miss O’Conor did say something about the impropriety of Larry walking about in his stocking feet. The ladies however soon withdrew,—to my sorrow, for I was getting on swimmingly with Fanny; and then we gentlemen gathered round the fire and filled our glasses.
In about ten minutes a very light tap was heard, the door was opened to the extent of three inches, and a female voice which I readily recognised called to Jack.
Jack went out, and in a second or two put his head back into the room and called to me—“Green,” he said, “just step here a moment, there’s a good fellow.” I went out, and there I found Fanny standing with her brother.
“Here are the girls at their wits’ ends,” said he, “about your dancing. So Fanny has put a boy upon one of the horses, and proposes that you should send another line to Mrs. Meehan at Ballyglass. It’s only ten miles, and he’ll be back in two hours.”
I need hardly say that I acted in conformity with this advice. I went into Mr. O’Conor’s book room, with Jack and his sister, and there scribbled a note. It was delightful to feel how intimate I was with them, and how anxious they were to make me happy.
“And we won’t begin till they come,” said Fanny.
“Oh, Miss O’Conor, pray don’t wait,” said I.
“Oh, but we will,” she answered. “You have your wine to drink, and then there’s the tea; and then we’ll have a song or two. I’ll spin it out; see if I don’t.” And so we went to the front door where the boy was already on his horse—her own nag as I afterwards found.
“And Patsey,” said she, “ride for your life; and Patsey, whatever you do, don’t come back without Mr. Green’s pumps—his dancing-shoes you know.”
And in about two hours the pumps did arrive; and I don’t think I ever spent a pleasanter evening or got more satisfaction out of a pair of shoes. They had not been two minutes on my feet before Larry was carrying a tray of negus across the room in those which I had worn at dinner.