A number of little pleasantries passed as the bland usher handed the ladies to their carriages; and it was evident by their laughter that his remarks were deemed pungent and witty. Meanwhile the hall was becoming deserted. The persons who had crowded there, descending singly or in groups, went their several ways, leaving Haire the only one behind. “And now, sir,” said the usher, “you see it's all over. You would n't take my advice. They are all gone, and it's the last meeting.”
“Will you favor me so far as to say for what did they meet? What was the object of the gathering?”
“I suppose, sir, you are not a reader of the morning papers?”
“Occasionally. Indeed, I always glance at them.”
“Well, sir, and has not your glance fallen upon the announcement of the ball,—the grand ball to be given at the-Rotundo for the orphan asylum called the 'Rogues Redemptory,' at Rathmines, at the head of whose patronesses stands my Lady's name?”
Haire shook his head in negative.
“And have you not come like the rest with an application for permission to attend the ball?”
“No; I have come to speak to Lady Lendrick—and by appointment too.”
A faint but prolonged “Indeed!” expressed the usher's-astonishment, and he turned and whispered a few words to-a footman at his side. He disappeared, and returned in & moment to say that her Ladyship would see Mr. Haire.
“I trust you will forgive me, sir,” said Lady Lendrick,—a very large, very showy, and still handsome woman,—as she motioned him to be seated. “I got your card when my head was so full of this tiresome ball, and I made the absurd mistake of supposing you came for tickets. You are, I think your note says, an old friend of Mr. Thomas-Lendrick?”