Vivian.--"What news from England?"

Mr. Bullion.--"As to the Funds, sir?"

Mr. Speck.--"I suppose you mean rather as to the railways. Great
fortunes will be made there, sir; but still I think that our
speculations here will--"

Vivian.--"I beg pardon for interrupting you, sir, but I thought, in the
last papers, that there seemed something hostile in the temper of the
French. No chance of a war?"

Major MacBlarney.--"Is it the wars you'd be after, young gentleman? If
me interest at the Horse Guards can avail you, bedad! you'd make a proud
man of Major MacBlarney."

Mr. Bullion (authoritatively).--"No, sir, we won't have a war; the
capitalists of Europe and Australia won't have it. The Rothschilds and
a few others that shall be nameless have only got to do this, sir [Mr.
Bullion buttons up his pockets],--and we'll do it, too; and then what
becomes of your war, Sir?" (Mr. Bullion snaps his pipe in the vehemence
with which he brings his hand on the table, turns round the green
spectacles, and takes up Mr. Speck's pipe, which that gentleman had laid
aside in an unguarded moment.)

Vivian.--"But the campaign in India?"

Major MacBlarney.--"Oh! and if it's the Ingees you'd--"