Feemy was rather puzzled; she didn't like to say she was not engaged; she had a presentiment Mary Brady was fishing to find out if the report about the Captain's inconstancy was true, and as matters stood she did not exactly like to say that the affair was arranged.
"Well, Mary, then I'll tell you exactly how it is—but mind, I don't want it talked about yet for rasons; so you won't say anything about it if I tell you?"
"Och then! is it I? Sorrow a word in life shall any one be the better av me, and you know, Miss Feemy, I wouldn't tell you a lie for worlds."
"Well, then, it's jist this way—I and the Captain is engaged, but there's rasons for him why we couldn't be married just immediately; so you see that's why I don't want it talked about."
"Ah! well dear, I knew there was something av that in it, and a nice handsome gentleman like the Captain wouldn't be trating the likes of you that way."
"What way, Mary?"
"Why they do be saying—"
"Who do be saying?"
"Why, jist through the counthry,—people you know, Miss, who must always have their gag; they do be saying—that's only some of them you know, Miss, who don't be quite frindly to Ballycloran—that the Captain don't main to be married at all, and is only playing his tricks with you, and that he's a schamer. But I knew you wouldn't be letting him go on that way, and so I said to Pat."
Feemy didn't quite like all this—it was a corroboration of what her brother had said; for though the Captain had certainly promised to marry her, he had never thought it necessary to ask her. She knew the matter did not rest on a proper footing; and though she was hardly aware of it, she felt the indignity of the probability of being jilted being talked over by such persons as Pat Brady.