"'And I say that if I go down there to-night, that I'll take my whip
with me to the shameless hussy. The Jezabel, and she nearly dyin' with
grief this evening.'

"'An' you won't marry them, sir?'

"A staggering box on the ear with a heavy slipper flung from across the
room sent the unfortunate messenger whimpering out of the door; while
the priest, honest man, stormed up and down the room until the
housekeeper entered with a waiter, on which were arrayed a decanter,
some tumblers, a lemon, and a large tumbler full of loaf sugar.

"'Come, Peter,' said he, more calmly, 'reach the kettle from the hob,
and we'll let the jade go. Perhaps she's out of her head, poor thing!
and will forget all about what she says to-night by to-morrow morning.
What are you grinning at there?'

"'Do you remimber the coult ye won from me whin I bet that ye couldn't
light your pipe wid the sun?'

"'Yis, Pether. Ah, I had ye thin, sharp as you count yourself!'

"'Well, now, I'll bet the very moral of him against himself that
Katty'll send up again--if she don't come herself.'

"'Done! for twice as much if you will. She doesn't dare--'

"'Good evening, your riverence,' said a woman's voice. And in the
doorway stood Lanty Casey and Katty Collins.

"'We've come up, your riverence, to see if you'd plaze to marry us this
night. They tould us you wor angry, sur, and, indade, I don't blame you;
for you don't know all. The man who lies dead beyant was able to give me
a home, and to keep a roof over the heads of my poor father and mother,
and I gave up Lanty here for him. Now, sir, if you'll marry us, I'll
give you the pig down below--and a finer's not in the parish; and if
not--'

"The speaker paused, and, touching the arm of her companion, who
evidently feared to speak, retreated into the kitchen to await the
decision of Father Patrick, who was almost bursting with chagrin at the
loss of his wager, and anger at the boldness of his parishioner.

"Peter laughed, silently enjoying his brother's discomfiture, and then
suddenly broke out,--

"'Now, what's the use, sir, of spitin' yourself? You've lost the coult,
and the woman is bound to have her way. Sure, an' if you don't tie the
knot, all they're to do is to sind over to Father Cahill--'

"'The hedge priest--is it? No, I'll marry them. Let them come in, Mrs.
Hartigan, but no blessin' can come on such a rite as this.'

"Without a word of congratulation, the priest performed the service o