It was late when I arrived in London and drove up to my father's house. The circumstances under which I had left Ireland weighed more heavily on me as I drew near home, and as I reflected over the questions I should be asked and the explanations I should be expected to afford; and I half dreaded lest my father should disapprove of my conduct before I had an opportunity of showing him how little I had been to blame throughout. The noise and din of the carriages, the oaths and exclamations of the coachmen, and the uproar of the streets turned my attention from these thoughts, and I asked what was the meaning of the crowd.

'A great ball, sir, at Lady Charlotte Hinton's.'

This was a surprise, and not of the pleasantest. I had wished that my first meeting with my father at least should have been alone and in quietness, where I could fairly have told him every important event of my late life, and explained wherefore I so ardently desired immediate employment on active service and a total change in that career which weighed so heavily on my spirits. The carriage drew up at the instant, and I found myself once more at home.

What a feeling does that simple word convey to his ears who knows the real blessing of a home—that shelter from the world, its jealousies and its envies, its turmoils and its disappointments; where, like some landlocked bay, the still, calm waters sleep in silence, while the storm and hurricane are roaring without; where glad faces and bright looks abound; where each happiness is reflected back from every heart and ten times multiplied, and every sorrow comes softened by consolation and words of comfort! And how little like this is the abode of the great leader of fashion; how many of the fairest gifts of humanity are turned back by the glare of a hundred wax-lights, and the glitter of gilded lackeys; and how few of the charities of life find entrance where the splendour and luxury of voluptuous habits have stifled natural feeling, and made even sympathy unfashionable!

It was not without difficulty I could persuade the servants, who were all strangers to me, that the travel-stained, dusty individual before them was the son of the celebrated and fashionable Lady Charlotte Hinton, and at length reach my room to dress.

It was near midnight. The rooms were filled as I entered the drawing-room. For a few moments I could not help feeling strongly the full influence of the splendid scene before me. The undoubted evidences of rank and wealth that meet the eye on every side in London life are very striking. The splendour of the women's dress, their own beauty, a certain air of haughty bearing peculiarly English, a kind of conscious superiority to the rest of the world mark them; and in their easy, unembarrassed, steady glance you read the proud spirit of Albion's 'haughty dames.' This alone was very different from the laughing spirit of Erin's daughters, their espiÈgle looks and smiling lips. The men, too, were so dissimilar—their reserved and stately carriage, their low voices, and deferential but composed manner contrasting strongly with Irish volubility, quickness, and gesticulation. I stood unnoticed and alone for some time, quietly observant of the scene before me; and as I heard name after name announced, many of them the greatest and the highest in the land, there was no semblance of excitement as they entered, no looks of admiring wonder as they passed on and mingled with the crowd. This showed me I was in a mighty city, where the chief spirits that ruled the age moved daily before the public eye; and again I thought of Dublin, where some third-rate notoriety would have been hailed with almost acclamation, and lionised to the 'top of his bent.'

I could remember but few of those around, and even they had either forgotten me altogether, or, having no recollection of my absence, saluted me with the easy nonchalance of one who is seen every evening of his life.

'How are you, Hinton?' said one, with something more of warmth than the rest. 'I have not met you for some weeks past.'

'No,' said I, smiling. 'I have been nearly a year from home.'

'Ah, indeed! In Spain?'

'No, in Ireland.'

'In Ireland? How odd!'

'Who has been in Ireland?' said a low, plaintive voice. Turning round as she spoke, my lady-mother stood before me. 'I should like to hear something—— But, dear me, this must be John!' and she held out her jewelled hand towards me.

'My dear mother, I am so happy to see you look so very well——'

'No, no, my dear,' said she, sighing, 'don't speak of that. When did you arrive? I beg your Royal Highness's pardon, I hope you have not forgotten your protege, my son.'

I bowed reverently as a large, full, handsome man, with bald head and a most commanding expression, drew himself up before me.

'No, madam, I have not forgotten him, I assure you!' was the reply, as he returned my salute with marked coldness, and passed on.

Before Lady Charlotte could express her surprise at such an unlooked-for mark of displeasure, my father, who had just heard of my arrival, came up.

'Jack, my dear fellow, I am glad to see you. How large you have grown, boy, and how brown!'

The warm welcome of his manly voice, the affectionate grasp of his strong hand, rallied me at once, and I cared little for the looks of king or kaiser at that moment. He drew his arm within mine, and led me through the rooms to a small boudoir, where a party at cards were the only occupants.

'Here we shall be tolerably alone for a little while, at least,' said he; 'and now, my lad, tell me everything about you.*

In less than half an hour I ran over the principal events of my life in Ireland, omitting only those in which Miss Bellew bore a part. On this account my rupture with Lord de Vere was only imperfectly alluded to; and I could perceive that my father's brow became contracted, and his look assumed a severer expression at this part of my narrative.

'You have not been very explicit, Jack, about this business; and this it is which I am really uneasy about. I have never known you do a mean or a shabby thing; I will never suspect you of one. So, now, let me clearly understand the ground of this quarrel.'

There was a tone of command in his voice as he said this which decided me at once, and without further hesitation I resolved on laying everything before him. Still, I knew not how to begin; the mention of Louisa's name alone staggered me, and for a second or two I stammered and looked confused.

Unlike his wonted manner, my father looked impatient, almost angry. At last, when seeing that my agitation only increased upon me, and that my difficulty grew each moment greater, he looked me sternly in the face, and with a voice full of meaning, said—

'Tell me everything! I cannot bear to doubt you. Was this a play transaction?'

'A play transaction! No, sir, nothing like it.'

'Was there not a bet—some disputed wager—-mixed up in it?'

'Yes, there was a wager, sir; but——'

Before I could conclude, my father pressed his hand against his eyes, and a faint sigh broke from him.

'But hear me out, sir. The wager was none of mine.' In a few moments I ran over the whole circumstances of De Vere's bet, his conduct to Miss Bellew, and my own subsequent proceedings; but when I came to the mention of O'Grady's name, he stopped me suddenly, and said—

'Major O'Grady, however, did not approve of your conduct in the affair.'

'O'Grady! He was my friend all through it!'

My father remained silent for a few minutes, and then in a low voice added—

'There has been misrepresentation here.'

The words were not well spoken when Lord Dudley de Vere, with my cousin Lady Julia on his arm, came up. The easy nonchalance of his manner, the tone of quiet indifference he assumed, were well known to me; but I was in nowise prepared for the look of insufferable, patronising impertinence he had now put on.

My cousin, more beautiful far than ever I had seen her, took off my attention from him, however, and I turned with a feeling of half pride, half wonder, to pay my respects to her. Dressed in the most perfect taste of the fashion, her handsome features wore the assured and tranquil expression which conscious beauty gives. And here let no inexperienced observer rashly condemn the placid loveliness of the queen of beauty, the sanctioned belle of fashionable life. It is, indeed, very different from the artless loveliness of innocent girlhood; but its claim is not less incontestable. The features, like the faculties, can be cultivated; and when no unnatural effort suggests the expression, who shall say that the mind habitually exercised in society of the highest and most gifted circle will not impart a more elevated character to the look than when the unobtrusive career of everyday life flows on calm and unruffled, steeping the soul in a dreary monotony, and calling for no effort save of the commonest kind.

Julia's was indeed splendid beauty. The lustrous brilliancy of her dark-blue eyes was shaded by long, black lashes; the contour of her cheeks was perfect; her full short lips were slightly, so slightly curled, you knew not if it were no more smile than sarcasm; the low tones of her voice were rich and musical, and her carriage and demeanour possessed all the graceful elegance which is only met with in the society of great cities. Her manner was most frank and cordial; she held out her hand to me at once, and looked really glad to see me. After a few brief words of recognition, she turned towards De Vere—

'I shall ask you to excuse me, my lord, this set. It is so long since I have seen my cousin.'

He bowed negligently, muttered something carelessly about the next waltz, and with a familiar nod to me, lounged away. O'Grady's caution about this man's attentions to Julia at once came to my mind, and the easy tone of his manner towards her alarmed me; but I had no time for reflection, as she took my arm and sauntered down the room.

'And so, mon cher cousin, you have been leading a very wild life of it—fighting duels, riding steeplechases, breaking your own bones and ladies' hearts, in a manner exceedingly Irish?' said Julia with a smile, into which not a particle of her habitual raillery entered.

'From your letters I can learn, Julia, that a very strange account of my doings must have reached my friends here. Except from yourself, I have met with scarcely anything but cold looks since my arrival.'

'Oh, never mind that; people will talk, you know. For my part, Jack, I never will believe you anything but what I have always known you. The heaviest charge I have heard against you is that of trifling with a poor girl's affections; and as I know that the people who spread these rumours generally don't know at which side either the trifling or the affection resides, why, I think little about it.'

'And has this been said of me?'

'To be sure it has, and ten times as much. As to your gambling sins, there is no end to their enormity. A certain Mr. Rooney, I think the name is, a noted play-man——'

'How absurd, Julia! Mr. Rooney never played in his life; nor have I, except in the casual way every one does in a drawing-room.'

'N'importe—you are a lady-killer and a gambler. Now as to count number three—for being a jockey.'

'My dear Julia, if you had seen my steeplechase you 'd acquit me of that.'

'Indeed, I did hear,' said she roguishly, 'that you acquitted yourself admirably; but still you won. And then we come to the great offence—your quarrelsome habits. We heard, it is true, that you behaved, as it is called, very honourably, etc; but really duelling is so detestable——'

'Come, come, fair cousin, let us talk of something besides my delinquencies. What do you think of my friend O'Grady?'

I said this suddenly, by way of reprisal; but to my utter discomfiture she replied with perfect calmness—

'I rather was amused with him at first. He is very odd, very unlike other people; but Lady Charlotte took him up so, and we had so much of him here, I grew somewhat tired of him. He was, however, very fond of you; and you know that made up for much with us all.'

There was a tone of sweetness and almost of deep interest in these last few words that made my heart thrill, and unconsciously I pressed her arm closer to my side, and felt the touch returned. Just at the instant my father came forward accompanied by another, who I soon perceived was the royal duke that had received me so coldly a few minutes before. His frank, manly face was now all smiles, and his bright eye glanced from my fair cousin to myself with a quick, meaning expression.

'Another time, General, will do quite as well, I say, Mr. Hinton, call on me to-morrow morning about ten, will you? I have something to say to you.'

I bowed deeply in reply, and he passed on.

'And let me see you after breakfast,' said Julia, in a half-whisper, as she turned towards De Vere, who now came forward to claim her for the waltz.

My father, too, mixed with the crowd, and I felt myself alone and a stranger in what should have been my home. A kind of cold thrill came over me as I thought how unlike was my welcome to what it would have been in Ireland; for although I felt that in my father's manner towards me there was no want of affection or kindness, yet somehow I missed the exuberant warmth and ready cordiality I had latterly been used to, and soon turned away, sad and disappointed, to seek my own room.