Mrs. Crump were not the least happy of the
party. But when the Ravenswing took Woolsey's hand, and said she never
would have been there but for him, Mr. Walker looked very grave,
and hinted to her that she must not, in her position, encourage the
attentions of persons in that rank of life. "I shall pay," said he,
proudly, "every farthing that is owing to Mr. Woolsey, and shall employ
him for the future. But you understand, my love, that one cannot at
one's own table receive one's own tailor."

Slang proposed Morgiana's health in a tremendous speech, which elicited
cheers, and laughter, and sobs, such as only managers have the art of
drawing from the theatrical gentlemen and ladies in their employ. It
was observed, especially among the chorus-singers at the bottom of the
table, that their emotion was intense. They had a meeting the next day
and voted a piece of plate to Adolphus Slang, Esquire, for his eminent
services in the cause of the drama.

Walker returned thanks for his lady. That was, he said, the proudest
moment of his life. He was proud to think that he had educated her for
the stage, happy to think that his sufferings had not been in vain, and
that his exertions in her behalf were crowned with full success. In her
name and his own he thanked the company, and sat down, and was once more
particularly attentive to Mademoiselle Flicflac.

Then came an oration from Sir George Thrum, in reply to Slang's toast
to HIM. It was very much to the same effect as the speech by Walker,
the two gentlemen attributing to themselves individually the merit of
bringing out Mrs. Walker. He concluded by stating that he should always
hold Mrs. Walker as the daughter of his heart, and to the last moment of
his life should love and cherish her. It is certain that Sir George was
exceedingly elated that night, and would have been scolded by his lady
on his return home, but for the triumph of the evening.

Mulligan's speech of thanks, as author of the "Brigand's Bride," was, it
must be confessed, extremely tedious. It seemed there would be no end
to it; when he got upon the subject of Ireland especially, which somehow
was found to be intimately connected with the interests of music and the
theatre. Even the choristers pooh-poohed this speech, coming though it
did from the successful author, whose songs of wine, love, and battle,
they had been repeating that night.

The "Brigand's Bride" ran for many nights. Its choruses were tuned on