certainly love flirting, as they also love dancing. But they flirt
without mischief and without malice.

I had now quite forgotten my misfortune, and was beginning to think
how well I should like to have Fanny O'Conor for my wife. In this
frame of mind I was bending over towards her as a servant took away a
plate from the other side, when a sepulchral note sounded in my ear.
It was like the memento mori of the old Roman;--as though some one
pointed in the midst of my bliss to the sword hung over my head by a
thread. It was the voice of Larry, whispering in his agony just
above my head -

"They's disthroying my poor feet intirely, intirely; so they is! I
can't bear it much longer, yer honer." I had committed murder like
Macbeth; and now my Banquo had come to disturb me at my feast.

"What is it he says to you?" asked Fanny.

"Oh nothing," I answered, once more in my misery.

"There seems to be some point of confidence between you and our
Larry," she remarked.

"Oh no," said I, quite confused; "not at all."

"You need not be ashamed of it. Half the gentlemen in the county
have their confidences with Larry;--and some of the ladies too, I can
tell you. He was born in this house, and never lived anywhere else;
and I am sure he has a larger circle of acquaintance than any one
else in it."