r, for instance, to make
the proposal first to Mrs. O'Brien herself, or, on the other hand, to
the Bodagh; but touching that and other matters relating to what was
proposed to be done, Una's opinion and advice might be necessary.

Little passed, therefore, worthy of note, during the intermediate time,
except a short conversation between Bartle and Connor on the following
day, as they returned to the field from dinner.

"Bartle," said the other, "you wor a little soft last night; or rather a
good deal so."

"Faith, no doubt o' that--but when a man meets an old acquaintance or
two, they don't like to refuse a thrate. I fell in wid three or four
boys--all friends o' mine, an' we had a sup on account o' what's
expected."

As he uttered these words, he looked at Connor with an eye which seemed
to say--you are not in a certain secret with which I am acquainted.

"Why," replied Connor, "what do you mane, Bartle? I thought you were
with your brother--at laste you tould me so."

Flanagan started on hearing this.

"Wid my brother," said he--"why, I--I--what else could I tell you? He
was along wid the boys when I met them."

"Took a sup on account o' what's expected!--an' what's the manin'o'
that, Bartle?"

"Why, what would it mane--but--but--your marriage?"

"An' thunder an' fury?" exclaimed Connor, his eyes gleaming; "did you
go to betray trust, an' mintion Una's name an' mine, afther what I tould
you?"

"Don't be foolish, Connor," replied Flanagan; "is it mad you'd have me
to be? I said there was something expected soon, that 'ud surprise them;
and when they axed me what it was--honor bright! I gave them a knowin'
wink, but said notion'. Eh! was that breakin' trust? Arrah, be me sowl,
Connor, you don't trate me well by the words you spoke this blessed
minute."

"An' how does it come, Bartle, my boy, that you had one story last
night, an' another to-day?"

"Faix, very aisily, bekase I forget what I sed last night--for sure
enough I was more cut than you thought--but didn't I keep it well in
before the ould couple?"

"You did fairly enough; I grant that--but the moment you got into the
barn a blind man could see it."

"Bekase I didn't care a button wanst I escaped from the eye of your
father; anyhow, bad luck to it for whiskey; I have a murdherin' big
heddick all day afther it."

"It's a bad weed, Bartle, and the less a man has to do with it, the less
he'll be throubled afther wid a sore head or a sore consc