“Do so, child,” said she, but evidently out of humor that the delightful little display of indifference and ignorance should not have succeeded better.
“Sir Andrew and Lady Janet MacFarline, of course!” cried Miss Kennyfeck; “ain't they first?”
“They are,” replied her sister.
“Sir Andrew, Mr. Cashel,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, “is a very distinguished officer,—a K.C.B., and something else besides. He was in all the Duke's battles in Spain; a most gallant officer, but a little rough in manner,—Scotch, you know. Lady Janet was sister to Lord—What is that lord, Caroline? I always forget.”
“Dumkeeran, mamma.”
“Yes, that's it She is a charming person, but very proud,—very proud, indeed; will not visit with the Dublin people. With us, I must say, I have never seen anything like her kindness; we are absolutely like sisters. Go on, Olivia.”
“Lord Charles Frobisher.”
“And the Honorable Elliot St. John,” chimed in her sister; “Damon and Pythias, where a dinner is concerned.” This was said in a whisper.
“They are aides-de-camp to the Lord Lieutenant. Lord Charles is younger brother to the Duke of Derwent; quite a man of fashion, and so amusing. Oh, he 's delightful!”
“Charming!” duetted the two sisters.