"Oh! Mary, I'll not have you bringing the glasses down there at all; sure Mrs. Mehan's glasses enough of her own, and she selling whiskey. You may take the knives, and the forks, and the plates; though you must leave us enough for ourselves—and there an't so many of them in it after all."
"Well, Miss Feemy, that's very good of you now. And you'll be bringing your own sweetheart with you, won't you, dear?—and it's I'd be sorry you'd be at my wedding, and no one fit to dance with your father's daughter."
"Oh! if you mean Captain Ussher, he told me Pat asked him himself, and he'd sure be there."
"And who else should I main, alanna; sure isn't he your own beau, and ain't you to be married to him, Miss Feemy?"
"Nonsense, Mary."
"Well, now, but sure you wouldn't be ashamed of telling me—isn't you going to have him, Miss?"
"But musn't I wait to be asked, like another?—Sure, Mary, you didn't go asking Denis McGovery, did you?"
"No, then, indeed I didn't, darling; and glad enough he was to be axing me."
"Well, and musn't I be the same?"
"Oh! in course; but, Miss Feemy, the Captain's been up here coorting at Ballycloran now these six months; sure he axed you before this, Miss Feemy?"