the old town, or with his brother-in-law the priest,
or with the affairs of the persons there adjacent; especially, we
may say, those of his landlord, Sir Thomas Fitzgerald, under whom he
still held a small farm, in conjunction with his brother Mick, the
publican at Kanturk.

"What's all that about Sir Thomas?" said he to his daughter in a low
voice as soon as the Molletts had left the bar.

"Well, I don't just know," said Fanny. She was a good daughter, and
loved her father, whose indoor affairs she kept tight enough for him.
But she had hardly made up her mind as yet whether or no it would
suit her to be Mrs. Abraham Mollett. Should such be her destiny, it
might be as well for her not to talk about her husband's matters.

"Is it true that the old man did see Sir Thomas to-day?"

"You heard what passed, father; but I suppose it is true."

"And the young 'un has been down to Kanturk two or three times. What
can the like of them have to do with Sir Thomas?"

To this Fanny could only say that she knew nothing about it, which
in the main was true. Aby, indeed, had said that his father had gone
down to collect money that was due to him; but then Fanny did not
believe all that Aby said.

"I don't like that young 'un at all," continued Mr. O'Dwyer. "He's a
nasty, sneaking fellow, as cares for no one but his own belly. I'm
not over fond of the old 'un neither."

"They is both free enough with their money, father," said the prudent
daughter.

"Oh, they is welcome in the way of business, in course. But look
here, Fan; don't you have nothing to say to that Aby; do you hear
me?"

"Who? I? ha, ha, ha!"

"It's all very well laughing; but mind what I says, for I won't have
it. He is a nasty, sneaking, good-for-nothing fellow, besides being a
heretic. What'd your uncle Bernard say?"

"Oh! for the matter of that, if I took a liking to a fellow I
shouldn't ask Uncle Bernard what he had to say. If he didn't like it,
I suppose he might do the other thing."

"Well, I won't have it. Do you hear that?"

"Laws, father, what nonsense you do talk. Who's thinking about the
man? He comes here for what he wants to ate and dhrink, and I suppose
the house is free to him as another. If not we'd betther just shut up
the front door." After which she tossed herself up and began to wipe
her glasses in a rather dignified manner.

Mr. O'Dwyer sat smoking his pipe and chewing the cud of his
reflections. "They ain't afther no good; I'm s