'And so, Miss Nugent,' said he, not daring, with all his assurance, to
address himself directly to Lady Clonbrony--'and so, Miss Nugent, you
are going to have great doings, I'm told, and a wonderful grand gala.
There's nothing in the wide world equal to being in a good, handsome
crowd. No later now than the last ball at the Castle that was before I
left Dublin, Miss Nugent--the apartments, owing to the popularity of my
lady-lieutenant, was so throng--so throng--that I remember very well,
in the doorway, a lady--and a very genteel woman she was too, though a
stranger to me--saying to me, "Sir, your finger's in my ear." "I know
it, madam," says I, "but I can't take it out till the crowd give me
elbow room."

'But it's gala I'm thinking of now. I hear you are to have the golden
Venus, my Lady Clonbrony, won't you?'

'Sir!'

This freezing monosyllable notwithstanding, Sir Terence pursued his
course fluently. 'The golden Venus!--Sure, Miss Nugent, you, that are so
quick, can't but know I would apostrophise Miss Broadhurst that is, but
that won't be long so, I hope. My Lord Colambre, have you seen much yet
of that young lady?'

'No, sir.'

'Then I hope you won't be long so. I hear great talk now of the Venus
of Medicis, and the Venus of this and that, with the Florence Venus, and
the sable Venus, and that other Venus, that's washing of her hair, and a
hundred other Venuses, some good, some bad. But, be that as it will, my
lord, trust a fool--ye may, when he tells you truth--the golden Venus