n words out in his chist.
An' aftherwards atin' an' dhrinkin' an speechifyin', an' showers iv rice
an' shoes an' white ribbon be th' yarrd. Thim's th' things I t'ought f'r
to see. An' instid iv that, ye will stand up in privut in a shack in a
neck iv woods, an' have th' words said over ye by a dom', wryneck,
Gospel George iv a heretic pulpit-poundher, that's dhruv out in a
buckboord dhrawed be a foundhered harrse, to do th' job loike a plumber
comes. Well, God's will be done. An' mebbe yer second weddin' will be
diff'rent. Though they's never th' peachbloom on th' second they is on
th' first, worse luck."

"Mary! what a thing to say!" Faith cried. "There will never be a second
wedding for me."

"Ye say so--knowin' nawthin'," Mrs. Foley responded. "All wimmin say so
before they're first married, knowin' nawthin' iv marriage; an' half iv
thim swear it to thimselves before they've been married a year, knowin'
too much. But sure 'tis th' nacher iv us to take chances, or we'd niver
marry at all. An' f'r why should a young widdy woman like yerself go
lonely all yer days?"

"Heavens, Mary, stop it!" Faith shuddered. "Talking like that before I'm
married at all. I'm not a widow; I won't be a widow."

"I'm wan foour times," Mrs. Foley observed. "An' I've knowed thim that
wud have give their sowls to be wan just wanst. Ye niver can tell."

"To judge by Angus' looks I won't be a widow for a long time," Faith
laughed.

Mrs. Foley shook her head sagely. "Nor ye can't tell about that. Sthrong
th' lad is, but he's voylent, an' voylent min come to quick ends."

"Violent? Nonsense! He never loses his temper."

"All min lose their timpers," Mrs. Foley asserted; "an' th' quoiter th'
man th' bigger divil he is whin he starts. Thim kind is th' worst. It's
not f'r nawthin' he carries that harrd face."

"His face isn't hard," Faith contradicted indignantly.

Mrs. Foley waved her hand. "I was speakin' in parables, loike. I'm not
meanin' it's bad-lookin' he is, but he's harrd. He's th' kind that niver
forgives wrong or slight, an' it wud shtrain him awful to forgive th'
same. They's a divil lives deep down in him, I'm tellin' ye, that's best
left asleep."

"Bosh!" said Faith.

"Ye say that, bein' ign'rant iv min," Mrs. Foley told her gravely. "I
believe he loves ye thrue, an' ut's little th' life iv a man wud be
worth who should speak a light word iv ye, or lay a hand on ye in other
than respect, if he knew it. But take ye heed,