We had attended a splendid ball, given by Lord M——, at his residence in Stephen’s Green, and I was, with the assistance of my waiting-maid, employed in rapidly divesting myself of the rich ornaments which, in profuseness and value, could scarcely have found their equals in any private family in Ireland.
I had thrown myself into a lounging-chair beside the fire, listless and exhausted after the fatigues of the evening, when I was aroused from the reverie into which I had fallen by the sound of footsteps approaching my chamber, and my mother entered.
“Fanny, my dear,” said she, in her softest tone, “I wish to say a word or two with you before I go to rest. You are not fatigued, love, I hope?”
“No, no, madam, I thank you,” said I, rising at the same time from my seat, with the formal respect so little practised now.
“Sit down, my dear,” said she, placing herself upon a chair beside me; “I must chat with you for a quarter of an hour or so. Saunders” (to the maid), “you may leave the room; do not close the room door, but shut that of the lobby.”
This precaution against curious ears having been taken as directed, my mother proceeded:
“You have observed, I should suppose, my dearest Fanny—indeed, you must have observed Lord Glenfallen’s marked attentions to you?”
“I assure you, madam—” I began.
“Well, well, that is all right,” interrupted my mother. “Of course, you must be modest upon the matter; but listen to me for a few moments, my love, and I will prove to your satisfaction that your modesty is quite unnecessary in this case. You have done better than we could have hoped, at least, so very soon. Lord Glenfallen is in love with you. I give you joy of your conquest;” and, saying this, my mother kissed my forehead.
“In love with me!” I exclaimed in unfeigned astonishment.