When Adelaide returned to Ballinamoyle, she thought of the day she had spent at Bogberry Hall with the most lively pleasure; the unrefined good-natured gaiety of its inmates had seized her with so strong a grasp, that it had dragged her along with the general current of mirth, and, leading her thoughts out of their ordinary course, had, with no unwelcome violence, broken the chain of their painful associations. Her eye had early been accustomed to the animation of foreign countenances and gestures; and as she had only been acquainted with English manners in a very retired country place, it is perhaps not surprising, that she should have felt chilled by their apparent monotony, and abashed by the half-reproving look she sometimes met with; when, pausing for an instant to consider what she had done wrong, she found she had, in the earnestness of conversation, raised her hand and arm full six inches from her side, where it was arrested in its graceful action, and remanded by the blushing offender to its former quiescent station. But censure was not even thus avoided, for in the very effort to please, she had committed a second error, by moving that beautiful brow, which expressed every feeling of her heart; and her dismay, at perceiving her observer still unsatisfied, produced some other involuntary gesture still more reprehensible than the first.

She now therefore saw the Irishmen change from one leg to another, flourish their arms, rattle their watch chains, and swing their chairs, without the horror so elegant a female was bound to experience on beholding such ungraceful motions, for which no sanctioning precedent could be produced at St. James's. And she even granted absolution to the varying expression of the women's countenances, which sometimes bordered on grimace; and extended it to their voices, running through half the gamut in the changes of the most decided brogue that ever offended ears polite.

To speak seriously, she found very great amusement in observing a national character, so dissimilar to any that had ever before fallen under her observation, and which presented itself with so many comical and so many amiable traits. In every individual she had met, there was something strongly characteristic, from Moll Kelly on the strand at Dunleary, to the proprietor of Bogberry Hall; and, with the exception of Mr. Donolan, who was spoiled in an attempt at refinement, warmth of feeling and good nature seemed to be the portion of each. In order to become better acquainted with this national character, which so much interested her, she determined, during her residence at Ballinamoyle, to visit the cottages in its neighbourhood, and to cultivate the acquaintance of her friend Jarge Quin, hoping to learn from him the peculiar customs and superstitions of the country, while to the venerable Father Dermoody she applied for their explanation and origin. She did not now feel quite so much at ease in referring for information to her former cicerone, Colonel Desmond, as she had done previous to their ambiguous conversation in his brother's drawing-room: but his guarded conduct the remainder of the evening tended much to destroy her first impression; and she felt the utmost confusion, whenever those few sentences came across her mind, accusing herself of the most egregious vanity in annexing a sense to his words that he did not mean to give them; and asking herself, time after time, whether he could have perceived her mistake. However, these unpleasant ideas soon wore away, and Colonel Desmond played the part of friend so well, that she convinced herself he had not understood her; and in a short time this circumstance, which made her at first feel so embarrassed in his presence, was erased from her mind. And indeed he so dexterously availed himself of all the advantages he possessed to make his society agreeable to her, that she soon began to feel almost uncomfortable without it. He would talk to her of the scenes of her infancy; and she would then gratefully recollect the pains he had taken to teach her the English language, which she now felt of such essential advantage; and would sometimes remind him of the good-natured patience he had also shown, when he first condescended to accompany on the violin her childish performance of concertos and sonatas, and the remembrance of many an inveterately ill-timed passage afforded them now considerable diversion. There was one subject of the deepest interest, that he, and he alone, of all her associates, was master of the virtues and talents of her father; and this, in her enthusiastic filial affection, and his regrets and admiration, was inexhaustible. At first Baron Wildenheim's name was but slightly glanced at; but by degrees she could bear to hear his sentiments and his words repeated, and her heart warmly thanked the man, who had so carefully treasured them in his. Colonel Desmond's humanity and fine feeling told him exactly where to stop. He would,

and the sympathy he showed in her affliction tended much to restore her mind to its wonted serenity, by gently drawing forth all those agonizing reflections and remembrances that had fled to hide themselves from human knowledge, to the most secret recesses of her heart. Under all these circumstances a penetrating observer would, perhaps, have pronounced, that if Colonel Desmond steadily pursued his present plan, it would ultimately be crowned with success. At least it is contrary to all experience, that a young woman can long continue to feel friendship alone for an unmarried man, who is in all things a lover, except in the declaration of his passion;—nay, if there is no love on either side at first, it is highly probable there will be on both at no distant period, whenever a similarity of taste, ideas, and pursuits, induces a desire of association and intimacy, which circumstances permit to be gratified. Every inexperienced female should be thoroughly aware of the high probability which exists of her bestowing her affections on the man with whom she is so situated.

The second evening after their return from Bogberry Hall, Mr. O'Sullivan's guests were assembled at tea, when they heard the sound of music in the open air; and looking out, saw a gay groupe of young men and women dressed in their best, two fiddlers playing merrily before them, one of the party carrying a pole, on which were tied small hoops covered with garlands of flowers, intermixed with finery of various sorts, and gloves cut out in white and coloured papers; after them followed the elder members of their families, and, lastly, a crowd of children. The Miss Webberlys saw, with surprise, that not one of the females of the assembly had hat or bonnet. All the young women, except the queen of the garland, wore white round caps, ornamented with some gay riband; some had open gowns of a brilliant calico, others of white linen, with a stuff petticoat, blue, yellow, red, or green, according to the fancy of the wearer; white aprons, handkerchiefs, and stockings, completed their attire. Their showy dress, rosy complexions, and animated countenances, had altogether a most lively effect.

The dress of the old women was rather different. It consisted of a white mob cap, with a black silk handkerchief brought over the crown, crossed under the chin, and tied behind; a calico gown, with a large and gaudy pattern; and, in addition to the handkerchief and apron, a white dimity bed-gown, with short sleeves, and the skirt reaching half way to their knees; with a bright scarlet cloak hanging on one arm. All the men who were not dancers wore a great coat, of the peculiar frieze of their country. In the dress of the young men there was nothing remarkable, except that each had on a showy waistcoat, or silk handkerchief, to make him look as smart as his sweetheart in her gay gown and petticoat.

Adelaide was delightedly viewing the joyous scene, when she suddenly heard Colonel Desmond's voice returning Mrs. O'Sullivan's salutation, "It's midsummer's eve," said he, addressing her, "and I could not resist coming to witness your surprise at the curious customs observed here on this night." "I should think Miss Wildenheim wouldn't be such a fool as to go trapesing out on the damp grass with such a set of vagabonds," said Mr. Webberly, who was himself confined to the sofa. Colonel Desmond's attention was too much engrossed by the sweet smiles and tones, with which Adelaide thanked him for his kind recollection of her, to notice the morose look which accompanied this observation; and he acknowledged the speaker no otherwise than by a distant bow, as the fair object of his solicitude left the room to join the rest of the party at the hall door. The crowd had by this time ranged themselves in a semicircle, in the centre of which stood the king and queen of the garland, the former carrying the pole. The rustic queen was the handsomest young girl of the country—

Her head was crowned with a chaplet of flowers, whilst her long hair, which is highly prized in Ireland as a part of female beauty, flowed in profusion down her back, and its raven hue contrasted well with her snow-white linen gown. A sky-blue petticoat appeared under her apron in front, and from her girdle hung a wreath of flowers, forming a festoon of varied tints. The temporary king was the best dancer, wrestler, and cudgel-player, and the "tightest and clanest boy in all Ballinamoyle town land." On the right stood the fiddlers, playing Plansety O'Sullivan. When the venerable possessor of this name came forward to welcome the crowd, the united strength of all their lungs sent forth a heart-felt wish of "Long life to his honour, and God bless him, hurra! hurra!" There is perhaps nothing more overcoming than the voice of a rejoicing multitude. The old man felt the present and the past, as he thought how his beloved Rose was hailed on such anniversaries; and whilst he made his bows of acknowledgement, the tear stood on his aged cheek. When silence was proclaimed, the village schoolmaster stepped forward, and presented him with a song he had written on his honour, and which "Brian Murdoch would make bould for to sing." Brian began with an "Och—" half a second in duration, and then proceeded as follows:—

The intention of this composition was certainly better than the metre; but for once a poet did not flatter, for Mr. O'Sullivan exercised all the benevolence of his kind heart, in making his tenants happy; and they would in return, to use their own expression, have "gone through fire and water at the dead hour of the night, to sarve his honour. They had a good right to lay the hair of their head in under his feet."

Brian's performance was applauded and encored, and when it was over, there was a little murmur amongst the crowd as if to settle the next act. "Which is her?" asked the king of the garland. "Why, that beautiful lady to be sure, talking to the fat madam in the lavender blossom dress, with the borders all figured out in white," replied an ancient matron, who had been one of the first assembly at Ballinamoyle. The young man now walked up to Adelaide, and with a bow down to the ground, begged the honour of dancing with her; and she, perceiving it was a national custom, instantly complied; and hearing from Captain Cormac, who handed her to the spot she was to dance on, that the figure of the jig she was expected to perform, was that of a minuet danced quick, she went through it with a spirit and grace, that were unalloyed by any airs of exalted languor.

What! danced with an Irish peasant, and with spirit to! Look down, ye German Barons of sixteen quarters, and ye noble British Peers, on your descendant, and—behold her with pride! for she could be dignified without haughtiness, and complaisant without familiarity—perfectly understanding the art of adapting herself to her associates, without thereby assimilating her manners or ideas to theirs; always preserving that elegance, which "was around her as light," giving to her performance of the trifles of every day intercourse a charm peculiarly her own, and which as invariably adorned her in the humblest cottage, as it would have done in the most brilliant court, dancing with this king of a rustic pageant, as with the Autocrat of all the Russias; and had she been one of those selected for that honour, she would perhaps, whilst she paid due homage to the rank of the Emperor, have no less forcibly impressed her august partner with the dignity of the lady.

However, the most scrupulous belle need not be much annoyed by the contamination she would suffer, by dancing with the king of the garland; for actuated by that respect, which the lower Irish so strongly feel for their superiors, he never presumes to take her hand, but contents himself with dancing opposite to her with all his might and main, at about three feet distance. Thus Adelaide's partner beat the batter on the ground, sprung, capered, hit the sole of his foot with his hand, danced the garland, beat the batter again, set, shuffled, and capered in turn. Every now and then there was clapping of hands, and "Well done, Lary, keep it up, keep it up!" and a murmur of approbation for Adelaide went round: "She's a beautiful cratur; and what kindly ways she has with her," said one. "The Lord love her little canny feet, how they do humour the music!" remarked another; and so on, till she made her curtsy when the jig was ended; and then there was a general shout of "Huzza! for the young lady and Lary for ever." "Arrah, whist wid your noisy tongues," said an old woman; "you'll trouble his honour, and mind him of Miss Rose. This day two and twenty year she danced on this very spot of ground, and the sarra lady has done the same since from that day till this. Do you see old Dennis there, Cisly?" continued she to her daughter: "Well, Miss Rose smiled so sweet, (I mind it as if it was but yesterday), and said, 'What a wonderful old man Dennis is, to be able to tire me in a dance, at sixty years of age! I hope he'll live to see many a midsummer's eve.' They say the prayers of them that's soon going to their long home is uncommon lucky; so she left these words for a blessing to ould Dennis, though she was too good to live herself." The old woman's caution was unnecessary—Mr. O'Sullivan had pleaded the damps of the evening and retired, but begged of Colonel Desmond to take his place, and keep the dancers as long as they afforded amusement, as his room was at so distant a part of the house, his sleep would not be disturbed. "Alas, no!" thought his friend, "poor man, he will never cease to grieve for his angelic daughter, till she smiles on him once more in another world."

Colonel Desmond perceived there was a stop in the proceedings of the crowd, and recollected that it was customary for the master of the house, or some one in the place, to dance with the queen of the garland, and therefore requested Captain Cormac would do the honours the etiquette of such occasions demanded. At another time he would have enjoyed doing so himself; but at this moment his head was too full of Rose and her father, to think of dancing—or even of Adelaide! Captain Cormac took the garland, as every man was bound to do, and flourished it about, and out-capered Lary himself; whilst his pretty partner, at stated times, cast her fine eyes on the ground, and was swung round by him with averted head, then danced boldly up with one arm akimbo, alternately took the garland, followed, or was chased by him. Little Caroline was wild with spirits, when the crowd, finding out their mistake with regard to Adelaide, raised her on a stout man's shoulders, and pressed round to shake hands with her in turn, while she received their greetings with the utmost cordiality; and, when let down again, she danced and capered about, as Jarge Quin said, "as merry and as pretty as the little people trip it on the blossoms on May morning."

Mr. Webberly had by this time nearly recovered from the ill humour the sight of Colonel Desmond had put him into, and had been wheeled in a large chair to the window, for the double purpose of viewing the festive scene, and watching the proceedings of Adelaide. He was evidently in pain either of body or mind, and looked so mournful, so deserted, that she could not resist the impulse of compassion, and addressed to him, from time to time, some casual remark on the groupe before them. For many months she had not voluntarily spoken so much to him; and as Colonel Desmond observed his satisfaction, some painful reflections crossed his mind: "He deceives himself," thought he, "and so do I—she has no love for me either. I ought to tear myself from her; yet a faint heart never won a fair lady, and I see as little cause to despair as to hope." But with an inconsistency, that the agitation of his feelings alone could account for, he whispered to Adelaide, "Be more stern, and you will be more humane; your heavenly sweetness undoes your victim." She looked up surprised, and read that in his countenance, which immediately gave to hers a degree of gravity which he had never before seen her features wear; and bowing slightly in answer, addressed herself to Mrs. O'Sullivan. He soon found an opportunity of speaking to her again: "Adelaide," said he, sorrowfully, "you are offended; are you like all the rest of the world, capricious and fickle? Do you reject the friend of your infancy?" "Colonel Desmond," said she calmly, "I must be frank—infancy does not last forever, 'altri tempi, altre maniere.'" In these few words she had spoken volumes. To recover himself, he talked sentiment and science to the two Miss Webberlys, and in doing so, heard and made such a display of esprit, that it soon deadened his feelings, and in a few minutes he appeared as much at ease as ever.

In the mean time the merry rustics performed Quaker minuets, which consist of a mixture of quick and slow movements, a sort of strathspey called petticoatties, and some well executed handkerchief dances, the figures of which are of the same kind as the shawl-dances of the opera, and admit six or eight at pleasure. It is surprising with what a degree of natural dexterity and vivacity the lower Irish dance: Adelaide thought, "If Horace had been an Irishman, he would not have described the dancing of the Nymphs and Graces in the spiritless manner he has done:—

But profiting by Mrs. Temple's hint, she never now said any thing that might lead to the supposition of her being a "learned lady;" at the same time, she heartily joined in the praises, which even Mrs. O'Sullivan and her daughters bestowed on the groupe before them. "It is not all pure nature, however," said Colonel Desmond; "itinerant dancing-masters go about the country, and there is no lad or lass so poor, that once in their lives, at least, can't afford half a crown for the benefit of their education in this particular. They all gather together in some waste building, or on the level turf; and the scenes that take place in these assemblies are ludicrous beyond description. It is said, that one of our Connaught Vestrises found it necessary, to tie a straw rope about the right leg of his pupils, calling it suggar, and the other gad; and that he used to sing this rhyme to a tune that marks the time inimitably, beating it all the time with his foot: only conceive the bodily and mental labour of such a task!

"It is not surprising," continued he, "that some such contrivance should sometimes be necessary on our Irish mountains, when the Scripture informs us, that a hundred and twenty thousand Ninevese could not discern between their right hand and their left." Adelaide was much entertained by this allusion. And here let us advise those, who regret any accidental coldness that may have arisen with a friend, if they have drollery enough in their composition, to make him or her laugh by all means. It is the surest way in the world to restore familiarity of manner; for we cannot look suddenly cross at the person, who has, in spite of our best endeavours at sullenness, excited the unwilling smile. Those who are "too dull for a wit, too grave for a joker," may try the pathetic; and if they can draw forth sympathetic tears at any horrible story, it will answer the purpose nearly as well, though our experience certainly inclines to the former method.

Whilst the smile yet played on Adelaide's countenance, old Dennis walked up to her, and said, with a look where pleasure and regret strove for preeminence, "Faith, Miss dear, when I see your teeth as white as the water-lily, and your eyes dancing like the sunbeams on the lake, ye mind me of Miss Rose; you're the sauciest lady I've seen since she parted us, when she was in her fifteenth! The sweetest Rose was she in all Ireland, and the like will ne'er bloom again in Ballinamoyle." Adelaide graciously received the old man's compliment; and her eyes filled with tears, as she said to Colonel Desmond, "How much I feel interested for this Rose! She must have been most amiable, to be so long loved and remembered by these grateful people." "She was indeed," replied he, "one of those beings, that would lead a fanciful imagination to suppose, they had nearly arrived at perfection in some pre-existent state, and had been sent on earth, for a short space, to complete their probation, and show what a superior nature might be, even clogged with our corporeal infirmities. Mr. O'Sullivan never breathes his daughter's name, nor is it ever mentioned before him, except by nurse, whom it is impossible to restrain. His life has passed away so monotonously, that it seems but as yesterday since he lost her, and she now rises again forcibly to the remembrance of the elder inhabitants of this neighbourhood, from the circumstance of Caroline O'Sullivan being brought, as it were, to take her place; which, I assure you, they consider as a sort of sacrilegious usurpation, and feel no small indignation at her having been born in England. Poor Rose! hers was a fatal marriage!—But this is not a fit time to sadden you with the details of her melancholy story."

It was now dark, and some of the dancers came forward to receive the customary donations, after which they proceeded in a body elsewhere. They were in the act of setting up their last "hurra!" when, as if by appointed signal, all the hills were instantly illuminated with innumerable fires. In the distance blazed the altar of the sun, like a pyramid of light; the nearer flames were reflected in the still waters of the lake. Every island was gay with moving figures and bonfires. Within the spacious walls of the old castle in the centre islet was the largest of all, which was seen brightly beaming through the arched windows and dilapidated walls, while round it a groupe of merry boys and girls were dancing; and a sudden blaze showed here and there similar circles on every hill. Rejoicing voices rose and fell on the gales of night, which also conveyed, from time to time, the music of various instruments. "I never beheld so beautiful a scene," said Adelaide; "what is the origin of this custom?" "It descends to us from our pagan ancestry," replied Colonel Desmond, "who on this evening offered sacrifices to the sun on every hill. A similar custom was observed on the first of May and on the last of October, on which night we keep up the same ceremonies, which Burns has so beautifully described in his 'Hallow E'en.' At this moment the whole of this island is gay with garlands, and dancing, and music; and her numerous population are poured forth on every hill in their best attire, accompanied by mirth and glee, leaving all their cares behind them at their cottage doors." "I hope," said Caroline, "the fires in the castle won't hurt the little fairies Jarge Quin told us of, Adele; I dare say they ran in a great hurry up the walls; or may be the lake is covered with their tiny boats to take them away. When I live here, I never will let a single cobweb be swept." "Why, my dear child, have you so suddenly fallen in love with the spider tribe, as well as the fairies?" "Oh, nurse says they steal in at night through the keyhole, to take the cobwebs to make sails of them; and, when the wind blows them off, they stick to the trees and every thing, and they are twice as good for cuts as those in the house. I have been gathering a whole heap of them to take to England. Oh, Adele! I wish you would come and hear the beautiful stories nurse tells about kings, and queens, and giants. She puts her spectacles on her nose, and reads all morning out of a book she calls the 'Rabby Night's Intertinmant.' I run down to her every night before I go to bed, and she takes me on her knee, and tells it to me, and gives me cakes. Sometimes she cries when I kiss her, and then she talks to me of my dear papa, what a fine young gentleman he was before he went to be a soldier. I'll marry a soldier when I grow big. I think nurse and uncle love me better than any body but you, Adele." It was in vain that Caroline's best beloved endeavoured, in a low voice, to assure her of the warmth of her mother's and sister's affection; she said little in reply, but felt all the pain of being convinced against her will.

The party, when tired of admiring the admirable night scene the surrounding country presented, retired to the house; and by this time the rustic assembly had repaired to an empty barn, where they danced till sunrise, and then went out to make hay.