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to be taught to be ashamed of their father?”

      “‘T is a lesson they might know by heart, this time of day, my dear,” said the inexorable Fanny, who put up her spectacles, and smoothed down her apron, – unmistakable signs that she was preparing for battle.

      “You need n’t ‘beat to quarters,’ aunt, as Captain Luttredge says; there is no one going to fire into you,” said Miss Kennyfeck. “The question at present is, how is Olivia to free herself from an unhappy connection – ”

      “An unhappy connection!” exclaimed Livy, in amazement.

      “Listen to your sister, and don’t interrupt her,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck.

      “I spoke advisedly, Livy,” resumed the elder, “when I called your connection with Sir Harvey Upton unhappy. We have just learned that far higher views are open to you, – that no less a person than Mr. Cashel – ”

      “Impossible, mamma! he never notices me in the least. Our acquaintance is scarcely more than a cold act of recognition when we meet.”

      “Though love is hot sometimes, soon it grows cold,” muttered Aunt Fanny, who believed she was quoting to the letter.

      “There never was love in the case at all, aunt,” said Olivia.

      “Attend to me, Livy,” said her sister, who seemed impatient at this digression. “It is sufficient – it ought, at least, to be sufficient – for you, that we know Mr. Roland Cashel’s intentions. It is for you to establish a coolness with Sir Harvey. There is no difficulty in the task. I could not presume to instruct you in any matter of this kind, nor will I.”

      “Take a friend’s advice, Livy dear, and don’t throw out dirty water till you’re sure of clean.”

      “What, aunt?” asked Olivia, who really was puzzled by the figurative eloquence of her relative.

      “Pshaw!” said Miss Kennyfeck, equally angry at the counsel and the vulgarity of the expression it was couched in. “Livy, attend to me,” said she again. “Mr. Cashel has sent for papa this morning to make a formal – Hush! here is pa himself.” And Mr. Kennyfeck’s heavy tread was heard approaching the door.

      Mr. Kennyfeck’s sudden entrance not only closed the discussion, but left the debaters in the difficulty of having no concerted line of conduct respecting the new arrival; and although Mrs. Kennyfeck’s eyebrows were worked with a telegraphic activity, and Miss Kennyfeck’s pantomimic replies as promptly returned, it was clear that neither comprehended the other. Kaunitz lays it down as an axiom that “when two wings of an army are in presence of an enemy, and without means of rapid and certain communication, it is always better to act on the defensive than to attack, without some evident weak point of the adversary encourages a forward movement.” It is more than probable that neither Mrs. Kennyfeck nor her fair daughter had studied the authority in question, yet, with a tact quite instinctive, they proceeded to act upon it.

      “You are back early, Mr. Kennyfeck,” said his wife, with a tone of half indifference.

      Mr. Kennyfeck looked at his watch, and said it wanted twenty minutes to twelve.

      “Has Mr. Linton returned, pa?” asked Miss Kennyfeck.

      “I believe not. I have not heard that he has.”

      “It would be little loss if he never did!” said Aunt Fanny, as she bit the end of an obstinate thread that would not enter the eye of her needle.

      “Oh, Aunt Fanny!” exclaimed Olivia, in a deprecating tone.

      “‘Pon my word, my dear, them ‘s my sentiments – whatever yours is.”

      “Mr. Cashel certainly thinks differently,” said Mrs. Kennyfeck, glad to introduce the name uppermost in all their thoughts.

      “I think of late there has been something like a coldness between them – You see them very rarely together. Did Mr. Cashel mention his name to you this morning, Mr. Kennyfeck?” said his wife; and by this sudden question revealing that they knew, at least, where he had been.

      “Mere passingly, incidentally,” said Mr. Kennyfeck, evidently amazed that his small mystery had been penetrated; then, after a slight pause, he added, very probably with a sly malice to pique curiosity, “Mr. Cashel is desirous of Mr. Linton’s counsel on a step he meditates taking.”

      “Indeed, sir; and has he much confidence in Mr. Linton’s judgment?”

      “In this instance, it is likely he will follow the dictates of his own, Mrs. Kennyfeck,” said the attorney, solemnly.

      This fencing was too much for Mrs. Kennyfeck, in whom the Job-like element was always at zero. It was an insult, too, to her understanding, that Mr. Kennyfeck should skirmish in this fashion with her; and so, drawing herself proudly up, she said, —

      “Mr. Kennyfeck, I would wish to ask you, if you have, even upon one single occasion, discovered that my knowledge of the world, my tact, or my intelligence, were inferior to your own?”

      “Never, madam; I’m sure I never disputed the – ”

      “No, sir, you never dared to contest the fact, though you may have endeavored to escape from its application. I believe, sir, the only instance of deficient judgment I can be accused of, you, at least, ought not to reproach me with. ‘My family’” – this was a word Mrs. Kennyfeck used to enunciate with an emphasis that always impressed her husband very little provocation might possibly have made her say, “our house” – “my family, indeed, may refuse to forgive me” – she stopped, wiped her eyes, and then, with what seemed an heroic victory over her feelings, went on – “but the welfare of my children, sir, may well be conceived dear to one, who would not league to them the unhappy descent she has herself suffered.”

      Mrs. Kennyfeck paused again. It appeared as though, do what she would, there was no escaping from the theme of her mésalliance when once she had touched it. It was very birdlime in its adhesiveness.

      “When, therefore, Mr. Kennyfeck, the occasion presents itself of resuming, through my children – for alas! it is lost to me in my own person – the station I have forfeited, I do think that I should at least be consulted, that my advice should be asked, and my guidance required. Don’t you think so too, sir?”

      Now, of all men living, never was there one more inept to read riddles than poor Mr. Kennyfeck, and while he averred that he perfectly concurred in his wife’s opinion, he had not the faintest glimmering of a notion what that opinion implied.

      “Don’t you think, sir, also it would be better to use a little candor with your family?”

      “Yes, pa, we know all about it,” said Miss Kennyfeck, nodding significantly.

      “Ay, indeed, we had it in black and white – that is, if we can call a bit of burnt – ”

      “Aunt Fanny, what are you about?” cried Miss Kennyfeck, in a voice of real terror, for she was shocked at the meanness she did not scruple to stoop to.

      “Yes, Mr. Kennyfeck,” reiterated his wife, “we know all! If, however, you still persist in maintaining that mysterious aspect you have assumed with your family, I must say, sir, it is perfectly absurd.”

      “It is unnecessary, too, papa,” cried Miss Kennyfeck.

      “And it’s unfair to that young creature,” chimed in Aunt Fanny, with a gesture towards Olivia, who sat, en tableau for injured innocence, next a window.

      Possibly, if any could have read Mr. Kennyfeck’s sentiments at that instant, they would have recognized the sufferings of a true martyr. To his own heart he muttered, —

      “This is very hard; it is being called upon to reply to a case without a copy of the affidavits.”

      At length, with a courage that he did not believe he was capable of, he said, —

      “I am confused, Mrs. Kennyfeck; I am overwhelmed; I may submit a plea of surprise – that is, I would move the court, I mean – in fact,

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