She will live, I hope, chiefly with me.' 'And honest Irish ?' 'Oh, she's Irish.' 'Ah!' the General was Irish to the heels that night.
Before further could be said the fair object of the dialogue came darting on a trip of little runs, both hands out, all her face one tender sparkle of a smile; and her cry proved the quality of her blood: 'Emmy! Emmy! my heart!' 'My dear Tony! I should not have come but for the hope of seeing you here.' Lord Larrian rose and received a hurried acknowledgement of his courtesy from the usurper of his place.
'Emmy! we might kiss and hug; we're in Ireland.

I burn to! But you're not still ill, dear?
Say no! That Indian fever must have gone.

You do look a dash pale, my own; you're tired.' 'One dance has tired me.

Why were you so late ?' 'To give the others a chance?
To produce a greater impression by suspense?
No and no.

I wrote you I was with the Pettigrews.