“It is something to give trade an impulse we want, sir,” broke in Miss Busk,—“balls and assemblies; evening reunions of the élite of society, where the elegance of the toilet should rival the distingué air of the company.”
“That's word for word out of the 'Intelligence,'” cried the Captain. “It's unparliamentary to quote the newspapers.”
“I detest the newspapers,” broke in Miss Busk, angrily; “after advertising the Emporium for two seasons in the 'Galway Celt,' they gave me a leading article beginning, 'As the hot weather is now commencing, and the season for fashion approaches, we cannot better serve the interests of our readers than by directing attention to the elegant “Symposium!”' 'Symposium!'—I give you my word of honor that's what they put it.”
“On my conscience! it might have been worse,” chuckled out the Captain.
“It was young Nelligan explained to me what it was,” resumed Miss Busk; “and Scanlan said, 'I'd have an action against them for damages.'”
“Keep out of law, my dear!—keep out of law!” sighed Mrs. Cronan. “See to what it has reduced me! I, that used to go out in my own coach, with two men in green and gold; that had my house in town, and my house in the country; that had gems and ornaments such as a queen might wear! And there's all that's left me now!” And she pointed to a brooch about the size of a cheese-plate, where a melancholy gentleman in uniform was represented, with a border of mock pearls around him. “The last pledge of affection!” sobbed she.
“Of course you wouldn't pledge it, my dear,” muttered the deaf old Mrs. Few; “and they'd give you next to nothing on it, besides.”
“We 'll have law enough here soon, it seems,” said Mrs. Cronan, angrily; for the laugh this blunder excited was by no means flattering and pleasant. “There 's Magennis's action first for trial at the Assizes.”