ay!" said
Owen, with a trembling lip. "I'll go now! that's enough!"

"Won't ye wait for yer breakfast, Owen Connor? Won't ye stay a bit for
my brother?"

"No, thank ye, ma'am. I'll not go into Galway to-day."

"Well, but don't go without your breakfast. Take a cup of tay anyhow,
Owen dear!"

"Owen dear! O Mary, jewel! don't say them words, and I laving you for
ever."

The young girl blushed deeply and turned away her head, but her
crimsoned neck shewed that her shame was not departed. At the moment,
Phil burst into the room, and standing for a second with his eyes fixed
on each in turn, he said, "Bad scran to ye, for women; but there's
nothing but decate and wickedness in ye; divil a peace or ease I ever
got when I quarrelled with Owen, and now that we're friends, ye're as
cross and discontented as ever. Try what you can do with her yourself,
Owen, my boy; for I give her up."

"'Tis not for me to thry it," said Owen, despondingly; "'tis another has
the betther luck."

"That's not true, anyhow," cried Phil; "for she told me so herself."

"What! Mary, did ye say that?" said Owen, with a spring across the room;
"did ye tell him that, darling?"

"Sure if I did, ye wouldn't believe me," said Mary, with a side-look;
"women is nothing but deceit and wickedness."

"Sorra else," cried Owen, throwing his arm round her neck and kissing
her; "and I'll never believe ye again, when ye say ye don't love me."

"'Tis a nice way to boil the eggs hard," said Phil, testily; "arrah,
come over here and eat your breakfast, man; you'll have time enough for
courting when we come back."

[Illustration: 138]

There needed not many words to a bargain which was already ratified; and
before they left the house, the day of the wedding was actually fixed.

It was not without reason, then, that I said it was a happy day for
Owen. Never did the long miles of the road seem so short as now; while,
with many a plan for the future, and many a day-dream of happiness to
come, he went at Phil's side scarce crediting his good fortune to be
real.

When they arrived at the agent's office in the square at Galway, they
found a great many of their neighbours and friends already there;
some, moody and depressed, yet lingered about the door, though they
had apparently finished the business which brought them; others,
anxious-looking and troubled, were waiting for their turn to enter. They
were all gathered into little groups and parties, conversing