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The old Colonel continued for some time to engross the largest share of the conversation, pouring forth innumerable questions about the various members of our corps; of whom he appeared to have a remarkably clear recollection, interspersing his reminiscences with many a well told anecdote, while I answered his questions, and his granddaughter sat quite still, apparently lost in thought; her bonnet and shawl thrown carelessly off, one little hand twisting the ear of the solemn old dog, who sat upright beside her. The deep blush which had sprung to her cheek on her first perceiving me, had left a warm tinge behind, and although I did my best to bestow that profound attention on her respected progenitor, which is so essential a sign of good breeding, I could not prevent my eyes from constantly turning to assure myself that the graceful figure so unconsciously attracting them was real, not a pleasing dream of fancy.

Suddenly Colonel Vernon ended something he was saying, I do not know what, with "you were too young to remember all this, Kate, but I think you said just now you remembered Captain Egerton."

"No grandpapa," with a clear calm look in my face, "not the slightest recollection of Captain Egerton; I only remember a very merry and young gentleman, whom, a long time ago, I used to think not too old for a playfellow at dear Dungar; but I should never in the least recognise him; and I had quite forgotten the name till you mentioned it."

"Well, really Miss Vernon, my memory is a little better than yours; Colonel Vernon will bear me witness, that one of my first enquiries, this morning, was for yourself."

"Quite true," said the old gentleman; "but I must own, Kate, 'twas evidently prompted by a most confused recollection."

"N'importe," said Kate, rising, with one of her bright smiles, "the least little bit of recollection, ever so tangled, is precious in my eyes; and grandpapa, as poor dear Mrs. Winter has scarcely got over her horror of my conduct the other night, let me calm her nerves by introducing Captain Egerton to her as a real orthodox acquaintance; I shall ask my little chaperon and her caro sposo to tea, shall I?"

She tied on her bonnet and threw her shawl around her without waiting for an answer; "come, Cormac; au revoir, Captain Egerton," and departed, followed by her canine squire.

"Yes," said Colonel Vernon, "they are really a very kind pair of oddities, and Kate has formed the warmest friendship for both. Winter is a painter of some talent, and a gentleman in the true meaning of the word, if not exactly in the conventional acceptation of it; and I am glad to secure such companionship for my dear child, who has but little to amuse her."

Poor Vernon seemed quite to cling to me, and insisted on walking me round the walls to the cathedral, the castle, &c., scarcely leaving me time to dress, as the dinner hour approached. I confess it was with a feeling of delightful excitement I performed my rapid toilet. It seemed to me that fortune, having satisfied her conscience by her recent frowns, was now yielding to her natural inclination to "favour the brave;" and ready, in the present sunny tone of my mind, to accept anything as a happy omen, I looked forward to long bright days, in what I was pleased to consider a prophetic mood.

I soon found myself coasting the Old Priory, and pausing for a few moments again, to admire the beautiful and singular little pleasure ground; looked about for the bell, as there was no knocker, when the door was opened by the watchful Nelly, who had espied my approach from some private loop-hole. She received me with a curtsey, the depth of which was calculated to impress my mind more with a sense of her own dignified position than any peculiar respect for myself; under its influence and her guidance, I crossed the little gloomy hall in a subdued manner, repressing a strong inclination to laugh as she opened the door, announcing in audible tones, selon la regle, "The Honourable Mr. Egerton." Colonel Vernon was standing by the window opening on the garden, and through it I could perceive his granddaughter gathering flowers or some such things. She bowed and smiled as she perceived me, and a moment after, stepping into the room, stood waiting until her grandfather had finished his account of our morning rambles, and arranged some half-blown damask roses in her dress, which by the way was gathered under a band that marked out her round and pliant figure to perfection, instead of terminating in an acute angle, as is the general fashion, why I cannot imagine; a more unnatural finale could scarcely be invented, although it must be a more daring spirit than mine that would venture to fix any limit to the creative genius of millinery; I suppose it is my taste for drawing that has made me so keen an observer of woman's dress, nor have I ever found my conclusions thereon false.

Miss Vernon, too, had the good taste to wear a great deal of soft lace, which set off her round white throat, making it look fairer still; and yet I have known some women turn from lace to linen, but these usually presided at Dorcas committees.

"Yes," said Miss Vernon, as her grandfather paused, "You must be tired. Do you know Captain Egerton; you seem to have infused new life into grandpapa, he has not walked so much for months, and yet he is quite fresh. I hope nurse will let us have dinner soon."

"How did that very dignified person find out I was chronicled in Debrett?" I asked. "I was amused and surprised at hearing myself so solemnly announced."

"Nelly seemed troubled in her mind with some indistinct recollections of you, and asked me if your brother was not a great lord, but I could not resolve her doubts, so——"

"Yes," broke in the Colonel, "she made the same enquiry of me, and I told her, her surmises were correct to the best of my belief; she piques herself on her knowledge of rank and precedence."

"What a relief it must be to her to think there is at last some good to counterbalance the crying evil of poor Mr. and Mrs. Winter's degrading society: people like nurse are such strange mixtures—she would respect a gentleman in rags if he had a high-sounding name, and excuse his unpardonable extravagance—while she utterly despises a man of talent and respectability, because he earns money instead of wasting it!"

"Not a word against my sheet anchor, Nelly," exclaimed the Colonel.

"Oh!" said his granddaughter, "I am her warmest admirer, and—"

Here Nurse appeared in propriâ personâ, and announced dinner. "Give Kate your arm, Egerton: I wish I had a fair lady to escort myself."

"Did you communicate your fears for my brother's health, when your nurse enquired for him?" I asked, as we crossed the hall to the dining room.

"De grâce," said Miss Vernon, "let that rest; we have little to reproach each other with. We both behaved very badly."

"At least, I had temptation to plead in excuse, but your motive was sheer mischief!"

"And you call that no temptation, do you?"

The dining room looked on a different view of the river and fields, and gave a peep of a wood on the opposite bank, which I had not yet seen. Its furniture bespoke the absence of wealth; the only approach to ornament was a gracefully shaped basket filled with bright flowers, which did duty as an epergne; while the well-polished plate, bright glass, and snowy table linen, were admirable substitutes for more costly addenda; and equally refreshing was the simple dinner of trout from the river, Welch mutton, and fresh fruit, to my palate, wearied with the hacknied entrées of our regimental chef.

Nurse performed the part of butler with much empressement, and occasionally, in reply to any question from her master, joined with much ease and self-possession in the conversation.

There was something deliciously new to me in the whole entertainment. My experience of dinners had been confined to the olla podrida of the mess table, and the equally long full dress affairs at which I had assisted, both in town and country, with an occasional scramble at an hotel or restaurant; but here there were grace and order that did not convey the idea of employing a host of attendants, and consuming a small fortune in its production; in short, it appeared to possess the charm of home, which nothing costly or studied ever conveys.

"You have a different view here," I observed, looking up from my plate to the prospect before me, "and I fancy it will afford some sketchable points."

"Then you sketch; how pleasant!" said Miss Vernon.

"It was a search for the picturesque brought him here," replied the Colonel.

"For the beautiful and picturesque, Colonel," I added.

"Well, well, they are generally united."

"Certainly, in this case," said I.

"I am glad I asked the Winters this evening."

"My dear master will give you a carte du pays; he has great genius, though I tell him he is too fond of bread and cheese subjects," observed Miss Vernon.

"Bread and cheese subjects?" I asked.

"He made an admirable picture of two boys eating bread and cheese, and is rather fond of that style of subjects, which I call, after his first attempt," she replied.

"I prefer bread and cheese to Gods and Goddesses myself, but Kate has nurse on her side. The jelly;—thank you. Nurse, how do you like Mr. Winter's pictures; you've seen them?" said the Colonel.

"'Deed then I have, sir; it's the scum of the earth he paints; a gentleman painther should be above such raff! Sure little Billy McKeogh, in Killeash, would never put a brush to anything ondher Jupither or Vanius, with crowns on their heads; and whin me uncle wanted a Coach and Horses for a sign, me bould Billy sis, sis he, I don't like thim low subjects, sis he, an he only a bit of a boy. Was the fish right, sir?" This conclusion was sotto voce and addressed with a confidential bend to her master's ear, but reached mine also. Miss Vernon, however, replied aloud and without a shadow of embarrassment at this domestic query.

"The fish was very nice, dear nurse."

"It was a chef d'œuvre, Colonel," I exclaimed; "we must try to win nurse over to us; Brougière, our chef, can do nothing like it."

"A few lessons from Mrs. O'Toole," suggested nurse, modestly.

"Ah yes, Mrs. O'Toole would be invaluable."

"See that, now," said nurse, with a triumphant look, as she retired.

"That's a great character," I remarked.

"And a good one; I do love nurse!" returned Miss Vernon.

"She is thoroughly Irish; an Englishman seldom appreciates such a character," said her grandfather.

"But I may do so, I am half Irish; my mother was a De Burgh," I exclaimed eagerly.

"Indeed!" said Miss Vernon.

"Oh, I remember something of that," observed Colonel Vernon.

"Besides, Miss Vernon, did I not serve an apprenticeship to all that is pleasantest in Irish life at Dungar," I continued.

"Bravo!" cried the Colonel.

"We admit you are half a compatriot," said Miss Vernon.

"It is curious, Kate's distinct remembrance of you when you used to play so good naturedly with her at Dungar, and her total unconsciousness of your identity at the ball."

"It is too provoking," I returned, "to think my stratagem was in fact unnecessary. Could I have discovered your name I am certain Dungar would have immediately presented itself to my memory. Miss Vernon looks like an Irish woman, and—"

"It is well you have so clearly made out your perfect familiarity with Irish life. The English ideal of an Irish woman, generally presents a broad face, wide mouth, and torn petticoat," said she, laughing.

I had sufficient tact not to reply, save by a look, which I was glad to perceive possessed sufficient eloquence to call up the soupçon of a blush into the speaker's cheek.

"Believe me, I tried hard for some legitimate introduction before I ventured on my bold attempt."

"Yes," said the Colonel, laughing, "you were, I remember, remarkable for your timidity."

"You certainly did look a little amazed when I pretended to recognize you," remarked Miss Vernon, "but only for a moment. There was a Mr. Harcourt I used to meet at Lady Desmond's, a very fine gentleman; something like you, with whom for the sake of consistency I chose to identify you. You see, grandpapa, I could not have danced but for some such ruse, and when I proposed merely looking on, I did not calculate how the sounds and sights of a ball-room would rouse the old leaven within me."

"My good star was in the ascendant; but for your admirable treatment of my audacity I should have been still ignorant that I had old friends within reach."

"You would have stumbled on me in some of your sketching expeditions," observed the Colonel.

I exclaimed hastily "Yes, but—" and stopping my imprudent revelations, rose to open the door for Miss Vernon, who left us, saying she had outstaid the proper interval for ladies. We soon followed her, and stood gazing at a fine harvest moon, which was gradually silvering the rocks and the river, as daylight disappeared, until the arrival of Miss Vernon's guests speedily broke in upon our pleasant reminiscent chat, and I was formally introduced.

Mrs. Winter looked rather puzzled. "I thought, my dear, it was all a mistake, your dancing with this gentleman?"

"Well, Mrs. Winter, the whole affair is now in such an entanglement of mistakes that I advise you not to attempt unravelling it; rest content with the assurance that Captain Egerton is a bonâ fide old acquaintance, fully recognised by grandpapa and myself."

"I am sure I never meant I doubted it," said Kate's ex-chaperon, with a little twittering embarrassed laugh, "but"—

"I am going to make tea, and you had better make your peace with Captain Egerton, whom you evidently doubt," returned Miss Vernon.

I seated myself beside Mrs. Winter and drew her into conversation, by praising the old town and its locale, with very genuine warmth; it was her native place, and my appreciation of it seemed to open her heart. We then in some imperceptible manner glided into natural history, and I was listening with every appearance of thrilling interest, to a circumstantial account of the habits and customs of a pug dog, called Fan, when Miss Vernon approached with a cup of tea, whereupon my informant rose, saying she would go to the tea table, around which we all now assembled.

"Captain Egerton is a brother of the brush, Mr. Winter," said Miss Vernon.

"Indeed!" he replied, with a sharp keen glance, "what's your style, sir?"

"Oh, I merely sketch; sometimes in water colours, but generally in chalks. Very rude attempts, I assure you."

"It's a glorious gift, any portion of power to transfer living nature to dead canvass or paper. Miss Vernon tells me that she would give worlds to be a painter, and yet she will not even try to draw."

"I do try," she exclaimed, "I feel my eyesight failing fast in the effort; but you cannot force nature, and she did not intend me for a proficient in your noble art."

"Pooh, pooh," cried Winter, "don't tell me that with your eye for the beautiful, for colors, for grace (look at the arrangement of those flowers, Captain Egerton), that you have no genius for painting; you have been shamefully neglected, and all your talents forced into another species of harmony, more fashionable but infinitely inferior."

And he puffed, wiped his forehead, and swallowed his cup of tea at a gulp.

"Mr. Winter, I will not allow you to misrepresent yourself," said Miss Vernon, "you love music in your very soul; do not pretend to think it inferior for the sake of argument!"

"It is inferior; painting appertains more to the intellect than music," rejoined Winter stoutly.

"We know that angels sing in Heaven, but we never heard of their sketching," replied Miss Vernon.

Mr. Winter, the Colonel, and I, laughed heartily at Miss Vernon's novel argument, and Winter, recovered from the momentary shock with a hasty "Pooh, pooh, Heaven indeed! Look at the lives of eminent painters, and then look at the lives of musicians."

"I would rather not," said his antagonist.

"Yes, it is strange," I observed, "but painters seem to be a less dissipated set of fellows than musicians; yet surely there is something of Heaven in music, and"—

"Captain Egerton," cried Miss Vernon, holding up a menacing finger, "are you taking that renegade's part?"

"Far from it, Miss Vernon; no art can surpass music in my estimation; but as to the lives of its professors, there is, alas! no mistake."

"I was a member of the Beefsteak Club in Dublin," said the Colonel; "we used to begin our evenings with the most divine duets and trios, glees and choruses, &c.; but towards the end, earth assumed the ascendant, and so great was its attraction, that by far the greater number of us were generally floored before the finale."

"But," said Winter, with a slightly contemptuous look, "I do not speak of mere performers, I mean composers, creators, men of genius!"

"They surely were men of good report, at least," began Miss Vernon.

"Miss Kate, if you please," said Nurse, looking in, "little Mr. Gilpin wants to spake to you."

"Oh, show him in, Nurse; say Grandpapa particularly wishes to speak to him."

The Colonel rose, and advanced a step or two towards the door, through which entered a little man, deformed and slightly lame, with the pale angular face usual in deformed persons, a pair of deep set vivid dark eyes, and a certain mild sad expression, which conveyed itself to you at once—though it could not be said to strike you—and saved him from the appearance of utter ugliness. He came forward with an uncertain timid manner, holding a broad dusky-looking book. The Colonel shook his hand with an air of extreme cordiality and high-bred respect, exclaiming, "We had almost given you up." Miss Vernon, who had also risen, now greeted him. "Did you not get my message, Mr. Gilpin? I called at your house to-day to beg you would join us this evening."

"No," said a remarkably rich soft voice, "none was given to me. I came here to show you a treasure I lately discovered in an old chest in the Chapter house," and he handed her the book.

Miss Vernon opened it with looks and exclamations of delight, and Winter joined the group.

I was left seated with his wife, the only member of the party who had not risen to greet the new comer. I turned an enquiring glance towards her, to which she answered, in a low tone, "Mr. Gilpin, the Organist of the Priory Church; he is an excellent musician, and a great favorite with the Colonel and Miss Vernon."

Here Miss Vernon interrupting her examination of the book and laying it on the piano, said, "But I am forgetting to offer you any tea, Mr. Gilpin,"—and placing a chair beside her own, returned to the tea table; while Colonel Vernon, with a wave of the hand towards me, exclaimed, "There is the reason we particularly wished you to join us this evening, my dear sir; in order to make our old and new friends acquainted. Let me introduce Captain Egerton to you, Mr. Gilpin; Captain Egerton, an old Dungar friend of ours, whom I picked up very curiously this morning."

Mr. Gilpin returned my salute, and looking at me somewhat keenly, drank his tea; continuing to converse in a low tone with Miss Vernon, who turned on him, from time to time, such beaming looks of kindliness, that it required all my consciousness of his great personal disadvantages, and grey hair to boot, to prevent the "green-eyed monster" from taking possession of me.

The Colonel devoted himself to Mrs. Winter; sometimes joining in Miss Vernon's conversation, while Mr. Winter, turning to me with much civility, placed himself at my service, so far as directing me to the antiquities and scenery, best worth viewing went; "further would be useless, for every eye sees its own beauty and its own sketch!"

Fully assenting to this, we glided into pleasant conversation on the respective merits of ancient and modern painters, till, at last, Miss Vernon rang the bell, to dismiss the tea apparatus, and order lights; "although it is almost sacrilege to shut out that lovely moon," she added, smiling.

"No," said Winter, "a soliloquy or a tête à tête is best by moon-light; but for a social party, large or small, it is too bold and pure a light; we'd find our spirits flag under its influence."

"Then let us shut it out speedily," said the Colonel, drawing the curtains and opening the piano; "I suppose, Egerton, we may include you among the lovers of music?"

Assenting to this readily, I moved to where Miss Vernon was again inspecting the dusky book. "May I see the treasure you have found?"

"Oh yes, you see it is an old book of chants, how curious the square-headed notes are! I suppose they are genuine Gregorian; have you tried any of them yet, Mr. Gilpin?"

"Almost all; some are very rude, but many of them are beautiful; I long to try their effect with several voices; and with your assistance, as you say you will be so good, I hope soon to have the children in training."

"If you think I am capable."

"Kate," said her grandfather, "Winter has brought his violin; give us that German duet I like so much."

After a little tuning, they began, and kept most perfectly together; I have seldom heard a more charming performance. Both evidently understood, not only the music, but each other's feeling of it, while Miss Vernon's round white fingers seemed to make a living, feeling creature of the inanimate instrument.

"Well, that is well done; you improve," I heard the Organist say, in tones of great satisfaction, while we were more noisily applauding; and Kate looked up in his face with such complete reliance on his judgment, and delight in his approbation, that I felt a strange thrill of vexation to think how dubious it was that such would ever be called forth by me.

Mr. Gilpin, now taking Miss Vernon's place at the piano, poured forth a beautiful "sinfonia," I think they call it; and Miss Vernon accepting the seat I vacated for her, sat listening and abstracted, her full eyes gazing on some imaginary object, unconscious of all around her; a slight tremor sometimes passing over her curved upper lip.

Rousing herself with an almost imperceptible sigh, she turned her eyes full on me, interrupting abruptly the long gaze in which I had indulged, "How beautiful! what a story that music seems to tell." At this moment the music, slow and of touching sadness, had glided by a succession of sweeping chords into a bolder and more martial strain.

"You have a great deal of imagination, Miss Vernon."

"That is a polite way of saying you are a visionary."

"No, no, there is nothing visionary about you, but I respect imagination."

"Then you are a rare specimen of your sex, Captain Egerton."

"Yes, we have less imagination, but then our life is much more practical."

"Has yours been a very practical life?"

"Mine! do not ask me to look at it."

She laughed low but merrily.

"This has been a delightful evening to me; I have to thank you for a peep into a new world, Miss Vernon."

"Oh, you like it because it is new; you would soon tire of our quiet world, and I do not see why I am to be thanked for it, grandpapa"—

"What was it brought me to A——? solely my wish to see and apologise to you."

"Captain Egerton, you cannot suppose I will credit such a conte; besides, it is not necessary; you see how welcome an old Dungar friend is; why seek to render assurance doubly sure, by trying to persuade me you came here in search of a person to whose address neither you nor any one had the slightest clue?"

"Doubt my word if you will, Miss Vernon, I can only say that not many hours after you left the Angel Hotel, I there discovered traces, certainly faint enough, which were the cause of my visit here."

At the name of "The Angel," Miss Vernon started, colored slightly, and then with a smile said,

"Well, I can say nothing more. What a pity such energies as yours should be lost in H.M. Light Dragoons."

"Then you have no very high opinion of my profession?"

"Far otherwise, it is necessary, and what is necessary—"

"Kate, my dear, give us that serenade I like so much," said her grandfather.

Many a year is past since first those rich soft tones swelled on my ear, as Miss Vernon sang the following words, but they come back as vividly to my memory as if they had been heard but an hour ago!

"Sleep, Oh, beloved! while with Angel guard

I watch o'er thy soft repose;

May the silent sense of my sleepless love

Tinge thy dreams as thine eye lids close!

Sleep, Oh, beloved one! sleep.

"Breathe o'er her hushed and slumbering soul,

Spirit of truth and peace!

Whisper of Heaven, and love, and faith,

Bid doubt and dread to cease.

Sleep, Oh, sleep!

"Then wake with dewy rosy lips,

And eyes of deep calm bliss,

To greet the heart that yearns for thee,

With morning's loving kiss!

Sleep, oh, beloved! sleep."

The music was peculiar, and the last note of each verse sustained, and dying away with an expression of unutterable tenderness, made an indelible impression on me. "What a heart that girl must have," was my only clear idea, as I stood silent with folded arms, utterly unable to say a word of the exquisite pleasure she had afforded me.

"After that," said Winter, at the end of a chorus of applause, "not another word or note. Good night, Colonel; you Nightingale, la vostra bocca sana qual che tocca!"

I joined the others in making my adieus; heard something about Mr. Winter calling on me the next day, and walked to my hotel, through the moonlit streets in a state of trance, lulled by the music and indescribable effect of the whole evening, into a delicious calm, which raised me pro tem. far above all sublunary interests.