rs, being no other than
Fanny O'Dwyer from South Main Street. Actuated, doubtless, by some
important motive she had left her bar at home for one night, having
come down to Kanturk by her father's car, with the intention of
returning by it in the morning. She was seated as a guest here on the
corner of the sofa near the fire, but nevertheless she was neither
too proud nor too strange in her position to administer as best she
might to the comfort of her uncle.

The other lady was Mistress O'Dwyer, the lady of the mansion. She was
fat, very; by no means fair, and perhaps something over forty. But
nevertheless there were those who thought that she had her charms.
A better hand at curing a side of bacon there was not in the county
Cork, nor a woman who was more knowing in keeping a house straight
and snug over her husband's head. That she had been worth more than
a fortune to Mick O'Dwyer was admitted by all in Kanturk; for it was
known to all that Mick O'Dwyer was not himself a good hand at keeping
a house straight and snug.

"Another cup of tay, Father Bernard," said this lady. "It'll be
more to your liking now than the first, you'll find." Father Barney,
perfectly reliant on her word, handed in his cup.

"And the muffin is quite hot," said Fanny, stooping down to a tray
which stood before the peat fire, holding the muffin dish. "But
perhaps you'd like a morsel of buttered toast; say the word, uncle,
and I'll make it in a brace of seconds."

"In course she will," said Mrs. O'Dwyer: "and happy too, av you'll
only say that you have a fancy, Father Bernard."

But Father Bernard would not own to any such fancy. The muffin, he
said, was quite to his liking, and so was the tea; and from the
manner in which he disposed of these delicacies, even Mrs. Townsend
might have admitted that this assertion was true, though she was
wont to express her belief that nothing but lies could, by any
possibility, fall from his mouth.

"And they have been staying with you now for some weeks, haven't
they?" said Father Barney.

"Off and on," said Fanny.

"But there's one of them mostly there, isn't he?" added the priest.

"The two of them is mostly there, just now. Sometimes one goes away
for a day or two, and sometimes the other."

"And they have no business which keeps them in Cork?" continued the
priest, who seemed to be very curious on the matter.

"Well, they do have business, I suppose," said Fanny, "but av so
I never sees it."