heir
eyes with laughing.

* A pass-word, sign, or brief intimation, touching something
of which a man is ignorant, that he may act accordingly.

"Whilst Father James was dancing with the bridesmaid, I gave Mary the
wink to! come away from Father Corrigan, wishing, as I tould you, to
get out amongst the youngsters once more; and Mary, herself, to tell
the truth, although he was the priest, was very willing to do so. I went
over to her, and says, 'Mary, asthore, there's a friend without that
wishes to spake to you.'

"'Well,' says Father Corrigan, 'tell that friend that she's better
employed, and that they must wait, whoever they are. I'm giving your
wife, Shane,' says he, 'a little good advice that she won't be the worse
for, and she can't go now.'

"Mary, in the meantime, had got up, and was coming away, when his
Reverence wanted her to stay till they'd finished their dance. 'Father
Corrigan,' says she, 'let me go now, sir, if you plase, for they would
think it bad threatment of me not to go out to them.'

"'Troth, and you'll do no such thing, acushla,' says he, spaking so
sweet to her; 'let them come in if they want you. Shane, says his
Reverence, winking at me, and spiking in a whisper, 'stay here, you and
the girls, till we take a hate at the dancing--don't you know that the
ould women here, and me will have to talk over some things about the
fortune; you'll maybe get more nor you expect. Here, Molshy,' says he to
my mother-in-law, 'don't let the youngsters out of this."

"'Musha, Shane, ahagur,' say's the ould woman 'why will yez go and
lave the place; sure you needn't be dashed before them--they'll dance
themselves.'

"Accordingly we stayed in the room; but just on the word, Mary gives
one spring away, leaving his Reverence by himself on the _settle_. 'Come
away,' says she, 'lave them there, and let us go to where I can have a
dance with yourself, Shane.'

"Well, I always loved Mary, but at that minute, if it would save her,
I think I could spill my heart's blood for her. 'Mary,' says I full to
the throat, 'Mary, acushla agus asthore machree,* I could lose my life
for you.'

*The very pulse and delight of my heart.

"She looked in my face, and the tears came into her--yes--'Shane,
achora,' says she, 'amn't I your happy girl, at last?' She was leaning
over against my breast; and what answer do you think I made?--I pressed
her to my heart: I did more--I took off my hat, and looking up to G