Dareville, Lady Pococke, Lady
Chatterton, Lady D--, Lady G--, his Grace of V--; what would they
think of him? And Miss Broadhurst to see him going about with my Lord
Clonbrony!'--It could not be. No; her ladyship made the most solemn
and desperate protestation, that she would sooner give up her gala
altogether--tie up the knocker--say she was sick--rather be sick, or be
dead, than be obliged to have such a creature as Sir Terence O'Fay at
her gala.
'Have it your own way, my dear, as you have everything else!' cried
Lord Clonbrony, taking up his hat, and preparing to decamp; 'but, take
notice, if you won't receive him you need not expect me. So a good
morning to you, my Lady Clonbrony. You may find a worse friend in need,
yet, than that same Sir Terence O'Fay.'
'I trust I shall never be in need, my lord,' replied her ladyship. 'It
would be strange, indeed, if I were, with the fortune I brought.'
'Oh! that fortune of hers!' cried Lord Clonbrony, stopping both his ears
as he ran out of the room; 'shall I never hear the end of that fortune,
when I've seen the end of it long ago?'
During this matrimonial dialogue, Grace Nugent and Lord Colambre never
once looked at each other.
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