The Macdermots of Ballycloran. Trollope Anthony

Brady had been above thirty years getting one husband; she was, therefore, probably right as to the delay she might experience in obtaining a second.

      "Well, Mary, Biddy may go with you."

      "Long life to you, Miss; and about the things then you know – the plates, and the knives, and the glasses?"

      "Oh! Mary, I'll not have you bringing the glasses down there at all; sure Mrs. Mehan's glasses enough of her own, and she selling whiskey. You may take the knives, and the forks, and the plates; though you must leave us enough for ourselves – and there an't so many of them in it after all."

      "Well, Miss Feemy, that's very good of you now. And you'll be bringing your own sweetheart with you, won't you, dear? – and it's I'd be sorry you'd be at my wedding, and no one fit to dance with your father's daughter."

      "Oh! if you mean Captain Ussher, he told me Pat asked him himself, and he'd sure be there."

      "And who else should I main, alanna; sure isn't he your own beau, and ain't you to be married to him, Miss Feemy?"

      "Nonsense, Mary."

      "Well, now, but sure you wouldn't be ashamed of telling me – isn't you going to have him, Miss?"

      "But musn't I wait to be asked, like another? – Sure, Mary, you didn't go asking Denis McGovery, did you?"

      "No, then, indeed I didn't, darling; and glad enough he was to be axing me."

      "Well, and musn't I be the same?"

      "Oh! in course; but, Miss Feemy, the Captain's been up here coorting at Ballycloran now these six months; sure he axed you before this, Miss Feemy?"

      Feemy was rather puzzled; she didn't like to say she was not engaged; she had a presentiment Mary Brady was fishing to find out if the report about the Captain's inconstancy was true, and as matters stood she did not exactly like to say that the affair was arranged.

      "Well, Mary, then I'll tell you exactly how it is – but mind, I don't want it talked about yet for rasons; so you won't say anything about it if I tell you?"

      "Och then! is it I? Sorrow a word in life shall any one be the better av me, and you know, Miss Feemy, I wouldn't tell you a lie for worlds."

      "Well, then, it's jist this way – I and the Captain is engaged, but there's rasons for him why we couldn't be married just immediately; so you see that's why I don't want it talked about."

      "Ah! well dear, I knew there was something av that in it, and a nice handsome gentleman like the Captain wouldn't be trating the likes of you that way."

      "What way, Mary?"

      "Why they do be saying – "

      "Who do be saying?"

      "Why, jist through the counthry, – people you know, Miss, who must always have their gag; they do be saying – that's only some of them you know, Miss, who don't be quite frindly to Ballycloran – that the Captain don't main to be married at all, and is only playing his tricks with you, and that he's a schamer. But I knew you wouldn't be letting him go on that way, and so I said to Pat."

      Feemy didn't quite like all this – it was a corroboration of what her brother had said; for though the Captain had certainly promised to marry her, he had never thought it necessary to ask her. She knew the matter did not rest on a proper footing; and though she was hardly aware of it, she felt the indignity of the probability of being jilted being talked over by such persons as Pat Brady.

      "Your brother, Mary, might have saved himself the throuble of telling lies about either the Captain or me; not of course that I care."

      "Oh! it warn't Pat, Miss, said it, only he heard it you know, Miss, through the counthry."

      "Well, it don't signify who said it, but don't you be repeating what I told you."

      "Is it I, Miss? Sorrow a word, Miss, will any one hear from me av it. Would I tell a lie about it? But I'll be glad to see the day you're married, for that'll be the great wedding through the counthry. – Oh laws!"

      This exclamation was not a part of the last speech, but was a kind of long-drawn, melancholy sigh, which did not take place for some minute or two after she had done speaking, during which time Feemy had been thinking of her own affairs, quite forgetful of Mary Brady and her wedding.

      "My! Mary, what are you sighing about?"

      "Well then, Miss Feemy, and isn't it a dreadful thing to be laving one's home, and one's frinds like, and to be going right away into another house intirely, Miss; and altogether the thoughts of what is the married life at all frets me greatly."

      "Why, you needn't be married unless you like it, Mary."

      "Oh! Miss Feemy, that's in course too; but then a young woman is behove to do something for her family."

      "But you haven't a family, you know, Mary, now."

      "No, but Miss Feemy alanna, you know the chances is I shall have now I'm to be married; and it's for them, the little innocents, I does it."

      The strength of this argument did not exactly strike Feemy, but she thought it was all right, and said nothing.

      "And then the throubles of a married life, darling, – supposing them is too many for me, what'll I do at all? I wonder, Miss Feemy, will I get any sleep at all?"

      "Indeed, Mary, I was never married; but why shouldn't you sleep?"

      "'Deed then, Miss, I don't jist know, but they do be saying that Denis is so noisy at nights, a-shoeing all the cattle over again as he shod in the day, and counting the money; and you see, av he was hammering away the blessed live-long night that way, maybe I'd be hurted."

      "It's too late for you to think of that now; but he'll be quieter than that, I should think, when you're with him."

      "Maybe he will, Miss; and as you say, I couldn't dacently be off it now. But thin – oh laws! – I'm thinking what will poor Pat be doing without me, and no one in it at all to bile the pratees and feed the pigs – the craturs!"

      "That's nonsense, Mary – you and he was always fighting; he'll have more peace in it when you're gone."

      "That's thrue for you, Miss, sartanly, and that's what breaks the heart of me intirely. Too much pace isn't good for Pat, no how; he'll never do no good, you'll see, when he comes to have so much of his own way. 'Deed then, the heart's low within me, to be laving Pat this way!" And Miss Brady put the tail of her gown into the corner of her eye.

      "But Mary, you'll have to be caring more for your husband now. I suppose you love Denis McGovery, don't you? I'd never marry a man unless I loved him."

      "Oh! that's in course – I do love him; why wouldn't I? for he has a nice little room all dacently furnished for any young woman to go into – besides the shop; and he never has the horses at all into the one we sleeps in, as is to be. And he's a handful of money, and can make any woman comfortable; and in course I love him – so I do. But what's the use of loving a man, if he's to be hammering away at a horseshoe all night?"

      "Oh, they're making game of you – they are, Mary; depend upon it, when he's tired working all day, he'll sleep sound enough."

      "Well, I s'poses he will; but now, Miss Feemy, I wonder is he a quiet sort of man? will he be fighting at all, do you think?"

      "Really then, I can't tell; but even if he does, they say you can take your own part pretty well, when it's necessary."

      "For the matter of that, so I can; and I don't mind a scrimmage jist now and again – sich as I and Pat have – av it's only to show I won't be put under; but they do say Denis is very sthrong. I don't think I'd ever have had him, av' I'd known afore he'd been so mortial sthrong."

      "Well, that's all too late now for you to be talking of; and take my advice, Mary, don't be fighting with him at all if you can help it; for from what people say of him I think your husband, as will be, sticks mostly to his own way, and I don't think he'll let his wife interfere. But he's a hard-working man, and it'll be a great comfort to you that you'll never see your children wanting."

      "Oh, the childhren, the