'I am sure I don't know,' said Mr. Van Buren, a little piqued; 'he is a good sort of fellow, I believe.'
'Brighthurst, my dear,' said Duval, 'is one of the cleverest men on the press of this or any other country. He has written everything in his time--five-act plays, political pamphlets, orthodox sermons, and hymns which would draw tears from a hard-shell Baptist--then he's very good-looking and capital talk. I shall be sincerely disappointed if he doesn't come soon. I am sure you and he would get on well together.'
'Do you think he would be horrified at seeing me eating these enormous oysters?' said Miss Montressor, with a little playfulness, turning to her other neighbour.
'I don't know whether he would, but I am not,' said Mr. Van Buren. 'Everything you do is done with a grace possessed by no other woman in the world.'
'O, Mr. Van Buren,' said the actress with an upward glance, 'that compliment is even more difficult to swallow than the large oysters.'
'Now, boys,' cried Bryan Duval, as the first crack of the champagne corks was heard, 'there must be an exception to the general rule in America to-night--we will have no speech-making.'
'We must have one toast,' cried Willy Webster. 'You won't refuse to drink this--Success to the Cruiskeen Lawn.'
'Stay!' cried Van Buren, holding up his hand; 'add this to it--And all our thanks to the lovely Kathleen!'
The men rose to their feet to drink the toast, and had not resumed their seats when the door opened, and a tall middle-aged man, with a bald head, aquiline nose, and large grizzled whiskers, entered the room. He made straight for Duval, and shook hands with him warmly.
'My dear Brighthurst,' cried the host, 'I am delighted to see you. We were all just now regretting your absence, and if you had not been so erratic a being, should have wondered at its cause. However, here you are--let me present you to Miss Montressor.'