CHAPTER XV. MR. HAIRE'S MISSION.
Although the Chief Baron had assured Haire that his mission had no difficulty about it, that he 'd find her Ladyship would receive him in a very courteous spirit, and, finally, that “he'd do the thing” admirably, the unhappy little lawyer approached his task with considerable misgivings, which culminated in actual terror as he knocked at the door of the house where Lady Lendrick resided in Merrion Square, and sent up his name.
“The ladies are still in committee, sir,” said a bland-looking, usher-like personage, who, taking up Haire's card from the salver, scanned the name with a half-supercilious look.
“In committee! ah, indeed, I was not aware,” stammered out Haire. “I suspect—that is—I have reason to believe her Ladyship is aware—I mean my name is not unknown to Lady Lendrick—would you kindly present my card?”
“Take it up, Bates,” said the man in black, and then turned away to address another person, for the hall was crowded with people of various conditions and ranks, and who showed in their air and manner a something of anxiety, if not of impatience.
“Mr. MacClean,—where's Mr. MacClean?” cried a man in livery, as he held forth a square-shaped letter. “Is Mr. MacClean there?”
“Yes, I'm Mr. MacClean,” said a red-faced, fussy-looking man. “I'm Mr. George Henry MacClean, of 41 Mount Street.”
“Two tickets for Mr. MacClean,” said the usher, handing him the letter with a polite bow.
“Mr. Nolan, Balls Bridge,—does any one represent Mr. Nolan of Balls Bridge?” said the usher, haughtily.
“That 's me,” said a short man, who wiped the perspiration from his face with a red-spotted handkerchief, as large as a small bed-quilt,—“that's me.”