ER _is sitting at one side of
the fire,_ PATRICK _at the other_.

PETER. What is that sound I hear?

PATRICK. I don't hear anything. [_He listens._] I hear it now. It's
like cheering. [_He goes to the window and looks out._] I wonder what
they are cheering about. I don't see anybody.

PETER. It might be a hurling match.

PATRICK. There's no hurling to-day. It must be down in the town the
cheering is.

BRIDGET. I suppose the boys must be having some sport of their own.
Come over here, Peter, and look at Michael's wedding-clothes.

PETER [_shifts his chair to table_]. Those are grand clothes, indeed.

BRIDGET. You hadn't clothes like that when you married me, and no coat
to put on of a Sunday any more than any other day.

PETER. That is true, indeed. We never thought a son of our own would be
wearing a suit of that sort for his wedding, or have so good a place to
bring a wife to.

PATRICK [_who is still at the window_]. There's an old woman coming
down the road. I don't know, is it here she's coming?

BRIDGET. It will be a neighbour coming to hear about Michael's wedding.
Can you see who it is?

PATRICK. I think it is a stranger, but she's not coming to the house.
She's turned into the gap that goes down where Murteen and his sons are
shearing sheep. [_He turns towards_ BRIDGET.] Do you remember what
Winny of the Cross Roads was saying the other night about the strange
woman that goes through the country whatever time there's war or
trouble coming?

BRIDGET. Don't be bothering us about Winny's talk, but go and open the
door for your brother. I hear him coming up the path.

PETER. I hope he has brought Delia's fortune with him safe, for fear
her people might go back on the bargain and I after making it. Trouble
enough I had making it.

[PATRICK _opens the door and_ MICHAEL _comes in._]

BRIDGET. What kept you, Michael? We were looking out for you this long
time.

MICHAEL. I went round by the priest's house to bid him be ready to
marry us to-morrow.

BRIDGET. Did he say anything?

MICHAEL. He said it was a very nice match, and that he was never better
pleased to marry any two in his parish than myself and Delia Cahel.

PETER. Have you got the fortune, Michael?

MICHAEL. Here it is.

[_He puts bag on table and goes over and leans against the
chimney-jamb._ BRIDGET, _who has been all this time examining
the clothes, pulling the seams and trying the lining o