I am indebted to the kind family of Castle Carra, for the generous protection they have extended to me, and that my beloved Emily unites sincerely in those sentiments of gratitude; and she entreats me further to say, that in after life your disinterested and brotherly affection shall be held in cherished remembrance. Hoping the honour of a speedy answer, believe me, My dear Mr. O'Hara, Your faithful, obliged friend, SARAH DE CLIFFORD." To picture Henry's feelings, when he read this curious production, would be impossible. In bitter agony he gazed upon the letter which contained the ruin of his hopes, when a heavy sigh having attracted the attention of a party who occupied a distant table, and fearing his agitation might be remarked by the strangers, he hastily wrapped the letters in their cover, and prepared to leave the room. The Salopian Coffee-house was then fashionably frequented, and, on this eventful evening, four exquisites, whose uniforms announced them to be Guardsmen, were seated in the same apartment where O'Hara sat over his cheerless wine. They appeared not to notice his presence, and with the carelessness of high life and tonish indifference, spoke freely of persons and events. For some time the conversation was desultory and uninteresting-it was the common-place record of fashionable movements and manners; Lady Vane's rout, Mrs. Slip's elopement, Sir Henry being dished, and Sir Hugh being done, formed the detail. In turn, politics and Ireland occupied them, and they talked of rebels, regiments, and reviews in the same breath. O'Hara had been too deeply absorbed in his own melancholy musing to listen to the passing chit-chat. At length his attention was forcibly awakened by one of the Guardsmen 66 By the way," said the soldier, “I had a devilish droll letter from Piggott; he has got on General Lake's staff, and has been down in the North of Ireland hanging a few Republicans. He mentions our old friend Lady Sarah, who is cutting a shine in some place with a cursed out of the way name." [Henry's ears tingled, and the glass he had raised to his lip remained untasted.] "He saw her by accident as he was starting from the inn door; she was driving a devilish sporting-looking carriage; but she cut him in her best style. By Jove, I don't wonder at it; Tom knew her too well tó make a recognition agreeable." "Oh! hang the harridan," drawled the second. "What the deuce can she be doing? Is she fomenting rebellion, and waiting in hopes of plunder? Can there be any body there to pigeon?" "Can't tell," replied the first speaker. "Suppose she's in keeping." "I should like to know," said another, "what Emy's about? Wonder is she comeat-able yet?" "Oh! light is the heart ever jocund and gay, sung a deep full voice, in the lobby. 66 O'Kelly, by George," said the first, as the door opened, and the singer advanced up the room, still continuing his ditty "If you're e'er melancholy, and cannot tell why, It will lighten your heart, though it deaden your eye.” Had the song and name of the new comer been insufficient to mark his country, his ap pearance would have put all controversy at an end, as to his being a genuine native of the "Emerald Isle." His height was above six feet, his shoulders square, his face round and comely, while his laughing light blue eye, firm step, and assured manner, bespoke the prototype of the celebrated "Captain Carey," who has since been immortalized by Webb and Jack Johnstone. "What kept you, Pat?" was the general inquiry. -66 "Could'nt come sooner," replied Captain O'Kelly. Coming through St. James's street, saw Hoby in the shop, and thought it a good opportunity of giving him further instructions in book-keeping, and accordingly ordered a fresh supply. Rather thirsty, pass the claret." "Whom do you think, Pat, we have just heard from?" "Your tailors, I suppose." "Curse mine, I had a call from one of the imps this morning, and, therefore, do not expect to be haunted so soon by the masterdemon." "Where do you imagine your dear De Clifford is ?" "New Holland, I hope." "No, faith, safe in your own sweet country, Pat, my jewel." "Devil be her welcome there, as they say in Carlow. And is Emy with her?" "I suppose so," said the first," and ready to enter into hymeneals, and become Mrs. O'Kelly." 66 Easy, hony; whatever she may do with greenhorns like you, be assured Pat O'Kelly will never blunder upon a wife who has been pawed by every puppy in the Blues. 'Tis a pity, faith; she's a lovely girl, and her father was a noble fellow, but that swindling mother would spoil an angel. But," and he lowered his voice to a whisper, "that good-looking fellow in the corner is listening with marked attention. I wish," he continued aloud, " I knew some person going to Ireland-I want to send over a damned parchment that my brother must bother me to sign." |