vegetarianism--not to pain the hosts--Piers drank bottled ale.
It was an uproarious meal. The little servant, whilst in attendance,
took her full share of the conversation, and joined shrilly in the
laughter. Mrs. Otway had arrayed herself in a scarlet gown, and her
hair was picturesquely braided. She ceased not from hospitable
cares, and set a brave example in eating and drinking. Yet she was
never vulgar, as an untaught London woman in her circumstances would
have been, and many a delightful phrase fell from her lips in the
mellow language of County Wexford.

When the remnants of dinner were removed, a bottle of Irish whisky
came forth, with the due appurtenances. Then it was that Alexander,
with pride in his eyes, made known Bridget's one accomplishment; she
had a voice, and would presently use it for their guest's
delectation. She was trying to learn the piano, as yet with small
success; but Alexander who had studied music concurrently with
medicine, and to better result, was able to furnish accompaniments.
The concert began, and Piers, who had felt misgivings, was most
agreeably surprised. Not only had Bridget a voice, a very sweet
mezzo-contralto, but she sang with remarkable feeling. More than
once the listener had much ado to keep tears out of his eyes; they
were at his throat all the time, and his heart swelled with the
passionate emotion which had lurked there to the ruin of his peace.
But music, the blessed, the peacemaker (for music called martial is
but a blustering bastard), changed his torments to ecstasy; his
love, however hopeless, became an inestimable possession, and he
seemed to himself capable of such great, such noble things as had
never entered into the thought of man.

The crying of her baby obliged Bridget to withdraw for a little.