[Charles O’Malley, The Irish Dragoon<br> Volume 1 (of 2) by Charles Lever]@TWC D-Link book
Charles O’Malley, The Irish Dragoon
Volume 1 (of 2)

CHAPTER XXIX
10/13

'We've had a severe day; let us also have a merry evening.' "'By Jove! Ormond,' cried another, 'we must not leave this to-night.
Confound the old humbugs and their musty whist party; throw them over.' "'I say, Adjutant,' said Forbes; addressing me, 'you've nothing particular to say to the fair widow this evening?
You'll not bolt, I hope ?' "'That he sha'n't,' said one near me; 'he must make up for his absence to-morrow, for to-night we all stand fast.' "'Besides,' said another, 'she's at meeting by this.
Old--what-d'ye-call-him ?--is at fourteenthly before now.' "'A note for you, sir,' said the mess waiter, presenting me with a rose-colored three-cornered billet.

It was from _la chere_ Boggs herself, and ran thus:-- DEAR SIR,--Mr.M'Phun and a few friends are coming to tea at my house after meeting; perhaps you will also favor us with your company.
Yours truly, ELIZA BOGGS.
"What was to be done?
Quit the mess; leave a jolly party just at the jolliest moment; exchange Lafitte and red hermitage for a _soiree_ of elders, presided over by that sweet man, Mr.M'Phun! It was too bad!--but then, how much was in the scale! What would the widow say if I declined?
What would she think?
I well knew that the invitation meant nothing less than a full-dress parade of me before her friends, and that to decline was perhaps to forfeit all my hopes in that quarter forever.
"'Any answer, sir ?' said the waiter.
"'Yes,' said I, in a half-whisper, 'I'll go,--tell the servant, I'll go.' "At this moment my tender epistle was subtracted from before me, and ere I had turned round, had made the tour of half the table.

I never perceived the circumstance, however, and filling my glass, professed my resolve to sit to the last, with a mental reserve to take my departure at the very first opportunity.

Ormond and the paymaster quitted the room for a moment, as if to give orders for a broil at twelve, and now all seemed to promise a very convivial and well-sustained party for the night.
"'Is that all arranged ?' inquired the major, as Ormond entered.
"'All right,' said he; 'and now let us have a bumper and a song.

Adjutant, old boy, give us a chant.' "'What shall it be, then ?' inquired I, anxious to cover my intended retreat by any appearance of joviality.
"'Give us-- "When I was in the Fusiliers Some fourteen years ago."' "'No, no; confound it! I've heard nothing else since I joined the regiment.
Let us have the "Paymaster's Daughter."' "'Ah! that's pathetic; I like that,' lisped a young ensign.
"'If I'm to have a vote,' grunted out the senior major, 'I pronounce for "West India Quarters."' "'Yes, yes,' said half-a-dozen voices together; 'let's have "West India Quarters." Come, give him a glass of sherry, and let him begin.' "I had scarcely finished off my glass, and cleared my throat for my song, when the clock on the chimney-piece chimed half-past nine, and the same instant I felt a heavy hand fall upon my shoulder.


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