ce. Much to the relief of all parties, she returned to Monavoe at
the end of twelve months, and thereupon devoted her energies to the
more homely acquirements in which she had since become an adept. She
could do anything with those deft fingers of hers: her butter was
proverbial, her bread excellent, she could trim a hat and hem a duster
with equal speed and nicety, and as for clear-starching and getting up
fine things, she was the wonder of the rustic matrons for ten miles
round.

Roseen had been making butter when her grandfather entered, and,
turning round, displayed a face rosy with her exertions, and arms bare
to the elbow.

"So here ye are," remarked Peter, his grim face relaxing as much as
was possible to it; "I've been lookin' for ye everywhere. Do ye know
what I am after doin' for you this fine mornin'?"

"What?" asked Roseen, a little apprehensively, while the colour
deepened in her cheeks. Peter leaned against the long stone shelf that
ran round the dairy wall, and smiled before replying: "I am after
makin' the finest match for you that's to be had in all the country
side."

The flush mounted to Roseen's very temples and then died away; she
paused a moment to steady her voice before venturing on a query. "I
seen Mr. Quinn goin' down the road a little while ago--is it him?"

"Ah, you little rogue! you were on the lookout, were ye?" cried Peter
jocosely. "Well, you are right; it is him. You are the rale lucky
girl, Roseen! You'll be the richest woman in the town-land."

Roseen glanced down, apparently wrestling with some inward emotion,
and presently observed in a small, strangled voice: "Sure, he is
twenty year older nor me."

"What matter?" said Peter; "he'll be all the better able to take care
o' you. It's better to marry a man with sense, nor to go takin' up
with some young whipper-snapper that would be thinkin' of nothin' but
spendin' money and carryin' on with nonsense."

"He's an ould widower," cried Roseen, wrinkling up her little nose
with an expression of disgust.

"Well," said Peter, "an' a good thing too; you'll come in for all the
beautiful dresses and jewels and things the first Mrs. Quinn left
behind."

"I am not goin' to take her lavin's, then," retorted Roseen with
spirit. "Neither her jew'lry, her dresses, nor her husband will I
have, so there! That's my answer, an' you may tell him so. He may go
make up his match with somebody else for me." With a whisk of her
skirts and a stamp