The Scotch and Irish girls warbled the sweetest snatches of song which Greenwood had ever heard; and then the French damsel rose and gave admirable imitations of Taglioni's, Ellsler's, and Duvernay's respective styles of dancing—throwing, however, into her movements and attitudes a wantonness which even the most exciting efforts of those artistes never displayed.
It was now nearly two in the morning; and Greenwood intimated to the Marquis his wish to retire.
"Just as you please," replied the old voluptuary, who had drawn Kathleen upon his knee, and was toying with her as if they were unobserved: "but if you like to accept of a bed here, there is one at your service—and," he added, in a whisper, "you need not be separated from Malkhatoun."
"Is your lordship in earnest?" asked Greenwood, also in a low tone, while joy flashed from his eyes.
"Certainly I am," replied the Marquis. "Do you think that I brought you hither merely to tantalize you?"
Greenwood smiled, and then redoubled his attentions towards the charming Georgian, who returned his smiles, and seemed to consider herself honoured by his caresses.
On a signal from the Marquis, the Scotch, English, French, and Spanish girls withdrew.
"One glass of wine in honour of those houris who have just left us!" cried the nobleman, who was already heated with frequent potations, and inflamed by the contiguity of his Hibernian mistress.
"With pleasure," responded Greenwood.
The toast was drunk; and then the Marquis whispered something to Greenwood, pointing at the same time to the door which opened into the bathing rooms.