‘I don’t want to say anything harsh to you, Mathew, nor have I strength to listen, if you’d try to defend yourself; time is short with me now, but this I must say, if I’m here now sick and sore, and if the poor boy in the other room is lying down with his fractured head, it is you, and you alone, have the blame.’
‘May the blessed Virgin give me patience!’ muttered he, as he wrung his hands despairingly.
‘I hope she will; and give you more, Mathew Kearney. I hope she’ll give you a hearty repentance. I hope she’ll teach you that the few days that remain to you in this life are short enough for contrition—ay—contrition and castigation.’
‘Ain’t I getting it now,’ muttered he; but low as he spoke the words her quick hearing had caught them.
‘I hope you are; it is the last bit of friendship I can do you. You have a hard, worldly, selfish nature, Mathew; you had it as a boy, and it grew worse as you grew older. What many believed high spirits in you was nothing else than the reckless devilment of a man that only thought of himself. You could afford to be—at least to look—light-hearted, for you cared for nobody. You squandered your little property, and you’d have made away with the few acres that belonged to your ancestors, if the law would have let you. As for the way you brought up your children, that lazy boy below-stairs, that never did a hand’s turn, is proof enough, and poor Kitty, just because she wasn’t like the rest of you, how she’s treated!’
‘How is that: what is my cruelty there?’ cried he.
‘Don’t try to make yourself out worse than you are,’ said she sternly, ‘and pretend that you don’t know the wrong you done her.’
‘May I never—if I understand what you mean.’
‘Maybe you thought it was no business of yours to provide for your own child. Maybe you had a notion that it was enough that she had her food and a roof over her while you were here, and that somehow—anyhow—she’d get on, as they call it, when you were in the other place. Mathew Kearney, I’ll say nothing so cruel to you as your own conscience is saying this minute; or maybe, with that light heart that makes your friends so fond of you, you never bothered yourself about her at all, and that’s the way it come about.’
‘What came about? I want to know that.’