d now, you know I wasn't always so. If ever there was a faithful
sarvant, I was that, an' managed your house and place as honestly as
I'll manage my own, plase Goodness."

As they left the parlor, Phelim became the consoler.

"Whisht, you darlin'!" he exclaimed. "Sure you'll have Bouncin' Phelim
to comfort you. But now that he has shut the door, what--hem--I'd
take it as a piece o' civility if you'd open my eyes a little; I
mane--hem--was it--is this doin' him, or how? Are you--hem--do you
undherstand me, Mrs. Doran?"

"What is it you want to know, Phelim? I think everything is very plain."

"Oh, the divil a plainer, I suppose. But in the mane time, might one
axe, out o' mere curiosity, if you're in airnest?"

"In airnest! Arrah, what did I give you my money for, Phelim? Well, now
that everything is settled, God forgive you if you make a bad husband to
me."

"A bad what?"

"I say, God forgive you if you make a bad husband to me. I'm afeard,
Phelim, that I'll be too foolish about you--that I'll be too fond of
you."

Phelim looked at her in solemn silence, and then replied--"Let us trust
in God that you may be enabled to overcome the weakness. Pray to Him
to avoid all folly, an' above everything, to give you a dacent stock of
discration, for it's a mighty fine thing for a woman of your yea--hem--a
mighty fine thing it is, indeed, for a sasoned woman, as you say you
are."

"When will the weddin' take place, Phelim?"

"The what?" said Phelim, opening his brisk eye with a fresh stare of
dismay.

"Why, the weddin', acushla. When will it take place? I think the Monday
afther the last call 'ud be the best time. We wouldn't lose a day thin.
Throth, I long to hear my last call over, Phelim, jewel."

Phelim gave her another look.

"The last call! Thin, by the vestment, you don't long half as much for
your last call as I do."

"Arrah, Phoilim, did you take the--the--what you wor wantin' awhile
agone? Throth, myself disremimbers."

"Ay, around dozen o' them. How can you forget it?"

The idiot in the corner here gave a loud snore, but composed himself to
sleep, as if insensible to all that passed.

"Throth, an' I do forget it. Now, Phelim, you'll not go till you take a
cup o' tay wid myself. Throth, I do forget it, Phelim darlin', jewel."

Phelim's face now assumed a very queer expression. He twisted his
features into all possible directions; brought his mouth first round to
one ear and then to the other; put