"Catch a weasel asleep!" said the wife.
"I didn't catch him asleep at any rate," continued he. "He was there before me; but when I went into the little room where they hold the meeting—"
"It's at Berryhill, isn't it?"
"Yes, at the Widow Casey's. To see that woman bowing and scraping and curtsying to Father Barney, and she his own mother's brother's daughter, was the best thing in the world."
"That was just to do him honour before the quality, you know."
"Exactly. When I went in, there was nobody there but his reverence and Master Herbert."
"As thick as possible, I suppose. Dear, dear; isn't it dreadful!—Did I put sugar enough in it, Æneas?"
"Well, I don't know; perhaps you may give me another small lump. At any rate, you didn't forget the whisky."
"I'm sure it isn't a taste too strong—and after such work as you've had to-day.—And so young Fitzgerald and Father Barney—"
"Yes, there they were with their heads together. It was something about a mill they were saying."