‘Only think, Albinia, I have found out that poor Ellen O’More is Mr. Goldsmith’s sister!’
‘Indeed! But I am afraid I don’t remember which Ellen O’More is. You know I never undertake to recollect any but your real cousins out of the thirty-six.’
‘For shame, Albinia, I have so often told you about Ellen. I’m sure you can’t forget. Her husband is my sister’s brother-in-law’s cousin.’
‘Oh, Winifred, Winifred!’
‘But I tell you, her husband is the third son of old Mr. O’More of Ballymakilty, and was in the army.’
‘Oh! the half-pay officer with the twelve children in the cottage on the estate.’
‘There now, I did think you would care when I told you of a soldier, a Waterloo man too, and you only call him a half-pay officer!’
‘I do remember,’ said Albinia, taking a little pity, ‘that you used to be sorry for his good little English wife.’
‘Of course. I knew she had married him very imprudently, but she has struggled gallantly with ill-health, and poverty, and Irish recklessness. I quite venerate her, and it seems these Goldsmiths had so far cast her off that they had no notion of the extent of her troubles.’
‘Just like them,’ said Albinia. ‘Is that the reason you wish me to make the most of the connexion? Let me see, my sister-in-law’s sister’s wife—no, husband’s brother’s uncle, eh?’