“You don't suppose, Tom,” said the former speaker, “that the Kennyfecks have any designs in that quarter,—egad! that would be rather aspiring, eh?”
“Very unwise in us to permit it, my Lord,” said Linton, in a low tone. “That's a dish will bear carving, and let every one have his share.”
My Lord laughed with a low cunning laugh at the suggestion, and nodded an easy assent.
Meanwhile the Kennyfecks rode slowly on, and crossing Essex Bridge continued their way at a foot pace towards the park, passing in front of the Four Courts, where a very large knot of idlers uncovered their heads in polite salutation as they went.
“That's Kennyfeck's newly-discovered client,” cried one; “a great card, if they can only secure him for one of the girls.”
“I say, did you remark how the eldest had him engaged? She never noticed any of us.”
“I back Olivia,” said another; “she's a quiet one, but devilish sly for all that.”
“Depend upon it,” interposed an older speaker, “the fellow is up to all that sort of thing.”
“Jones met him at dinner yesterday at Kennyfeck's, and says he is a regular soft one, and if the girls don't run an opposition to each other, one is sure to win.”
“Why not toss up for him, then? that would be fairer.”