“It was a fearful night!” said Mr. Kennyfeck, whose mind was entirely engrossed by the one idea.
“Take him into the next room, and I'll join you presently,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck to her husband, for that keen-sighted lady had remarked the intense interest with which Mr. Phillis listened to every remark made around him.
“Here's a pretty piece of business!” cried she, as the door closed after her husband and the valet; “and certainly, I must say, we 've no one to thank for it but you, Fanny!”
“Unquestionably not,” echoed Miss Kennyfeck. “Aunt Fanny has the entire merit of this catastrophe.”
“It is most cruel,” sighed Olivia, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, and bent upon her stern relative a glance of most reproachful sadness.
“Are you all mad?” said the assailed individual, her courage and her color rising together. “How can you pretend to connect me with this disgraceful proceeding? Here's a case as clearly prearranged as ever was heard of.”
“Impossible!” cried Mrs. Kennyfeck; “did n't he invite us only yesterday to go down to Tubbermore by sea?”
“And didn't you yourself offer the only impediment?” said Miss Kennyfeck.
“You are very cruel, aunt,” sobbed Olivia.
“You'll drive me out of my senses,” said Miss O'Hara; and certainly her look did not belie her words. “I endeavor to rescue you from the snares of a young debauchee, who, as you well know, has a wife still living—”