have not a chance, and moreover she’s a downright flirt.”–[“It is your turn now, Jane,” said Kilkee, scarcely able to proceed.]– “Besides that, her father’s a pompous old Tory, that won’t give a sixpence with her; and the old curmudgeon, your uncle, has as much idea of providing for you, as he has of dying.”–[This last sally absolutely convulsed all parties.]–“To be sure Kilkee’s a fool, but he is no use to you.”–[“Begad I thought I was going to escape,” said the individual alluded to, “but your friend O’Leary cuts on every side of him.”] The letter, after some very grave reflections upon the hopelessness of my pursuit, concluded with a kind pledge to meet me soon, and become my travelling companion. Meanwhile, added he, “I must cross over to London, and look after my new work, which is to come out soon, under the title of ‘the Loiterings of Arthur O’Leary.'”
This elegant epistle formed the subject of much laughter and conversation amongst us long after it was concluded; and little triumph could be claimed by any party, when nearly all were so roughly handled. So passed the last evening I spent in Munich–the next morning I was married.
THE END.
EBOOK EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS:
Accept of benefits with a tone of dissatisfaction Mistaking your abstraction for attention My English proves me Irish
My French always shows me to be English Nine-inside leathern “conveniency,” bumping ten miles an hour Pleased are we ever to paint the past according to our own fancy Sure if he did, doesnt he take it out o’ me in the corns? They were so perfectly contented with their self-deception Unwashed hands, and a heavy gold ring upon his thumb