an agree."

"As heaven's above me, Bartle, there's not a man in the county this day
sorrier for what has happened than myself! But the truth is, that when
my father heard of Tom Grehan, that was your security, havin' gone to
America, he thought every day a month till the note was due. My mother
an' I did all we could, but you know his temper; 'twas no use. God
knows, as I said before, I'm heart sorry for it."

"Every one knows, Connor, that if your mother an' you had your way an'
will, your father wouldn't be sich a screw as he is."

"In the meantime, don't forget that he is my father, Bartle, an' above
all things, remimber that I'll allow no man to speak disparagingly of
him in my presence."

"I believe you'll allow, Connor, that he was a scourge an' a curse to
us, an' that none of us ought to like a bone in his skin."

"It couldn't be expected you would, Bartle; but you must grant, after
all, that he was only recoverin' his own. Still, when you know what
my feeling is upon the business, I don't think it's generous in you to
bring it up between us."

"I could bear his harrishin' us out of house an' home," proceeded the
other, "only for one thought that still crasses in an me."

"What is that, Bartle?--God knows I can't help feelin' for you," he
added, smote with the desolation which his father had brought upon the
family.

"He lent us forty pounds," proceeded the young man; "and when he found
that Tom Grehan, our security, went to America, he came down upon us the
minute the note was due, canted all we had at half price, and turned
us to starve upon the world; now, I could bear that, but there's one
thing----"

"That's twice you spoke about that one thing," said Connor, somewhat
sharply, for he felt hurt at the obstinacy of the other, in continuing
a subject so distressing to him; "but," he continued, in a milder tone,
"tell me, Bartle, for goodness' sake, what it is, an' let us put an' end
to the discoorse. I'm sure it must be unpleasant to both of us."

"It doesn't signify," replied the young man, in a desponding
voice--"she's gone; it's all over wid me there; I'm a beggar--I'm a
beggar!"

"Bartle," said Connor, taking his hand, "you're too much downhearted;
come to us, but first go to my father; I know you'll find it hard to
deal with him. Never mind that; whatever he offers you, close wid him,
an' take my word for it that my mother and I between us will make you
up dacent wages; an' sorry I am that it