“No, thank ye,” she responded, “I never drink wine at all; but I’d be glad of a glass of spring water, or”--as an afterthought--“if ye have such a thing as a sup of fresh buttermilk?”
Without relaxing a muscle, the waiter replied: “We don’t supply buttermilk, my lady, but the water is the best.”
Lady Joseline ate little dinner, but devoured the company with a pair of eager, childish eyes. One lady she stigmatised as “a play actress,” another as “an old show, with feathers in her hair and scarcely a tack to her back.” Most of the men were “as like the waiters as two peas.” Then, to their special attendant--
“No meat whatever. Sure, man alive, ’tis a fast day!”
“My dear, there is no occasion for an explanation,” remonstrated her _vis-à-vis_, when the waiter had retired.
“Sure, won’t he think it uncivil, just to say no or yes?”
“Not if you add ‘please.’ The salad is nice and fresh, but you should not eat it with your fingers.”
“Possibly; but you don’t wish to be remarkable, do you?”
“No, indeed. Am I? Tell me, please, is there anything _on_ me? or queer about me? Is anything sticking in me hair?”
“I’ve noticed quite a lot of people staring over at me, as if they knew I was no great shakes, and had no call to be here; and there’s a man near the pillar that has a pair of eyes like two big black slugs. I declare they make me curl all over!”
Miss Usher was agreeably conscious of the fact that her charge had made considerable sensation in their neighbourhood. No one could look more elegant and distinguished, than the pretty girl in the corner. There had been whispers, glances, and a turning of heads. These admirers had not heard the beauty’s soft common brogue, nor witnessed her difficulties with forks and wine-glasses. “But, considering all things, she was wonderful,” said the chaperon to herself, as she rose from the table, and ordered coffee in the hall. The more her ladyship rubbed off the raw edge of ignorance, and the sooner she encountered and vanquished startling first impressions, the better for her, and her kinsfolk.
As they sat down at a little table, and the coffee made its appearance, the girl said in a loud voice--
“I’m not partial to coffee. I’d sooner have a cup of tay!”