Then were made engagements for the ball; quadrilles and waltzes were given in exchange for sandwiches and ale—Lieutenants were to be had for sherry—a glass of champagne would secure a Captain.
Great was the crowd round Mrs. McKeon's car, and plentiful the partners who solicited the honour of dancing with Lyddy, Louey, and Feemy. McKeon was there in all his glory, shaking hands with every one—praising his mare with his mouth full of ham, and uttering vehement eulogiums on Gayner between the different tumblers of porter, which in his joy he seemed to swallow unconsciously. Then Bob came up himself, glowing with triumph, for he knew that he had acquitted himself more than ordinarily well. He had changed all his clothes, for he had been completely drenched by his fall in the brook; and now, having nearly altogether fasted for the last forty-eight hours, was not at all disinclined to assist at Mrs. McKeon's banquet.
He shook hands with her, and all the three girls round, and with Tony—although he had already done that three times before; and he began a full history of the race, which we needn't repeat.
"I knew Brickbat was as fat as a bullock; he couldn't keep the pace up; but I'll tell you what, Tony, if any horse there could beat Playful, it was Conqueror. But George can't wait—I win fifteen pound from him—he's made a bad thing of it—lost his horse and all."
"Did you see the horse, Bob, when you came to the big ditch?"
"By my honour, then, I didn't see anything from the time I got out of the brook. I'd enough to do to sit where I was, and keep the mare's head straight. When she made the great leap, I hardly felt her feet come to the ground, she came down so lightly."
While he was speaking, Ussher came up to the car, and began congratulating them. He had now openly stated that he was to leave the country altogether, and that he had been ordered to Cashel. Mrs. McKeon was therefore no longer at a loss to account for Feemy's melancholy; and whilst she felt a cordial dislike to the man, who she thought had so basely deceived Feemy and was now going to desert her, she was heartily glad for her sake he was going, and reflected that as he was to be off to-morrow, it was useless for her now to begin to be uncivil to him.
"I'm glad to congratulate you, Mr. McKeon—I'm glad you won, as my friend Brown didn't; a bad thing his losing his horse, isn't it?"
"Thank ye, Captain; and I'm to congratulate you too. I hear you're promoted, and going away from us—very glad for one, sorry for t'other. Take a bit of cold pie; d——n it, I forgot—the pie's all gone, but there's cold mutton and plenty of sherry. Lyddy, give Captain Ussher a glass of sherry."
And Ussher went round to the side of the car where Feemy was sitting, and shook hands with her and the other girls. It was the first time through the whole long morning he had come near her; indeed, it was the first time he had seen her since his short visit at Mrs. McKeon's, and very cruel poor Feemy had thought such conduct. Yet now, when he merely came to speak a few words, it was a relief to her, and she took it actually for a kindness. She felt herself so fallen in the world—so utterly degraded—she was so sure that soon every one else would shun her, that she shuddered at the idea of his ill-treating or deserting her. He soon left her, having got an opportunity of desiring her in a whisper to dance the first quadrille with him, as he didn't think he should remain late at the ball.