O'Grady, having swallowed his breakfast as fast as possible, left the room; the whole party soon followed, and on arriving in the drawing-room, the young ladies became more agreeable when no longer under the constraint of their ogre father. Furlong talked slip-slop common-places with them; they spoke of the country and the weather, and he of the city; they assured him that the dews were heavy in the evening, and that the grass was _so_ green in that part of the country; he obliged them with the interesting information, that the Liffy ran through Dublin, but that the two sides of the city communicated by means of bridges--that the houses were built of red brick generally, and that the hall-doors were painted in imitation of mahogany; to which the young ladies responded, "La, how odd!" and added, that in the country people mostly painted their hall-doors green, to match the grass. Furlong admitted the propriety of the proceeding, and said he liked uniformity. The young ladies quite coincided in his opinion, declared they all were so fond of uniformity, and added that one of their carriage horses was blind. Furlong admitted the excellence of the observation, and said, in a very soft voice, that Love was blind also.
"Exactly," said Miss O'Grady, "and that's the reason we call our horse 'Cupid'!"
"And the mare that goes in harness with him--she's an ugly creature, to be sure, but we call her 'Venus.'"
"That's for uniformity," said Miss O'Grady.
Mrs. O'Grady, who had left the room for a few minutes, now returned and told Furlong she would show him over the house if he pleased. He assented, of course, and under her guidance went through many apartments; those on the basement story were hurried through rapidly, but when Mrs. O'Grady got him upstairs, amongst the bed-rooms, she dwelt on the excellence of every apartment. "This I need not show you, Mr. Furlong--'t is your own; I hope you slept well last night?" This was the twentieth time the question had been asked. "Now, here is another, Mr. Furlong; the window looks out on the lawn: so nice to look out on a lawn, I think, in the morning, when one gets up!--so refreshing and wholesome! Oh! you are looking at the stain in the ceiling, but we couldn't get the roof repaired in time before the winter set in last year; and Mr. O'Grady thought we might as well have the painters and slaters together in the summer--and the house does want paint, indeed, but we all hate the smell of paint. See here, Mr. Furlong," and she turned up a quilt as she spoke; "just put your hand into that bed; did you ever feel a finer bed?"