are too much
given to morning dishevelment. If they would only remember that the
change in a man's opinion and mind respecting a girl will often take
place as quick as the change in her appearance, and that the contrast
will be quite as striking, they would be more particular. And they
never can be sure of themselves, take what precautions they will.
Lovers will drop in at most unseasonable hours; they have messages to
deliver, plans to propose, or leave to take. They can never be kept
out with certainty, and all the good done by a series of brilliant
evenings--satin dresses, new flowers for the hair, expensive
patterns, and tediously finished toilets--may be, and often is,
suddenly counteracted by one untidy head, soiled dress, or dirty
stocking.

I will, however, return to my story. There sat Feemy, apparently
perfectly contented with her appearance and occupation, till a tap at
the door disturbed her, and in walked Mary Brady, the bride elect.

"Well, Miss Feemy, and how's your beautiful self this morning?"

"And how are you, Mary, now the time is coming so near?"

Mary Brady was a very tall woman, being about the same height as her
brother, thirty or thirty-three years of age, with a plain, though
good-humoured looking face, over which her coarse hair was divided on
the left temple. She had long ungainly limbs, and was very awkward
in the use of them, and though not absolutely disagreeable in her
appearance, she was so nearly so, that she would hardly have got
married without the assistance of the "two small pigs, and thrifle
of change," which had given her charms in the eyes both of Ginty and
Denis McGovery.

"Oh! Miss Feemy, and I'm fretting so these two days, that is, ever
since Denis said it was to be this blessed day,--the Lord help
me!--and I with it all on my shouldhers, and the divil a one to lend
a hand the laste taste in life."

"Why, Mary, what can there be so much to do at all?"

"Och! then, hadn't I my white dress to get made, and the pair of
sheets to get hemmed, for Denis said his'n warn't large enough for
him and I,"--and here the Amazon gave a grin of modesty,--"and you
know it was part of the bargain, I was to have a pair of new sheets"
(Denis had kept this back from Father John in his inventory of his
bride's fortune); "and isn't there the supper to get ready, and the
things, and the house to ready and all!--and then when I'd done that,
it war all for nothing, for the wedding isn't to be