As for Mr.Runt, he walked about very demurely in a domino, and perpetually paid his respects to the buffet, and ate enough cold chicken and drank enough punch and champagne to satisfy a company of grenadiers.
The Lord Lieutenant came and went in state-the ball was magnificent.
Miss Kiljoy had partners in plenty, among whom was myself, who walked a minuet with her (if the clumsy waddling of the Irish heiress may be called by such a name); and I took occasion to plead my passion for Lady Lyndon in the most pathetic terms, and to beg her friend's interference in my favour.
It was three hours past midnight when the party for Lyndon House went away.

Little Bullingdon had long since been asleep in one of Lady Charlemont's china closets.

Mr.Runt was exceedingly husky in talk, and unsteady in gait.

A young lady of the present day would be alarmed to see a gentleman in such a condition; but it was a common sight in those jolly old times, when a gentleman was thought a milksop unless he was occasionally tipsy.

I saw Miss Kiljoy to her carriage, with several other gentlemen: and, peering through the crowd of ragged linkboys, drivers, beggars, drunken men and women, who used invariably to wait round great men's doors when festivities were going on, saw the carriage drive off, with a hurrah from the mob; then came back presently to the supper-room, where I talked German, favoured the three or four topers still there with a High-Dutch chorus, and attacked the dishes and wine with great resolution.
'How can you drink aisy with that big nose on ?' said one gentleman.
'Go an be hangt!' said I, in the true accent, applying myself again to the wine; with which the others laughed, and I pursued my supper in silence.
There was a gentleman present who had seen the Lyndon party go off, with whom I had made a bet, which I lost; and the next morning I called upon him and paid it him.