Mark blushed till his face became scarlet, and turning abruptly away, sought his own room in silence.
CHAPTER XXV. A DAY OF DIFFICULT NEGOCIATIONS
The time was now approaching when the Travers's were to remove to the capital, and, at Sybella's urgent entreaty, Sir Marmaduke was induced to request that Kate O'Donoghue might accompany them in their visit, and thus enjoy the pleasures of a winter in Dublin, then, second to no city of Europe, in all that constituted social excellence.
The note of invitation couched in terms the most flattering and cordial, arrived when the O'Donoghues were seated at breakfast, and, as was usual on all occasions of correspondence, was opened by Kate herself; scarcely had she thrown her eyes over its contents, when, with a heightened colour, and a slight tremor in her voice, she passed the letter across the table to her uncle, and said—“This is for your consideration, sir.”
“Then, you must read it for me, Kate,” replied he; “for my ears have outlived my eyes.”
“Shall I do it,” interposed Sir Archy, who, having remarked some hesitation in Kate's manner, came thus good-naturedly to the rescue.
“With all my heart, Archy,” said the O'Donoghue; “or rather, if you would do me a favour, just tell me what it is about—polite correspondence affects me pretty much as the ceremonies of bowing and salutation, when I have a fit of the gout. I become devilish impatient, and would give the world it was all over, and that I were back in my easy chair again.”
“The politeness in the present case, lies less in the style than in the substance,” said Sir Archy. “This is a vara civil, though, I must say, to me a vara unwelcome proposal, to take our darling Kate away from us, for a season, and show her some of the life and gaieties of the capital.”
“Well, that is handsomely done, at least,” said the O'Donoghue, whose first thought sprung from gratified pride, at the palpable evidence of social consideration; then suddenly changing his tone, he said in a low voice; “but what says Kate herself?”