“You have certainly given me a strong curiosity to see her,” said Massingbred. “Does she always live here?”
“Always. I don't believe she was ever beyond the bounds of the county in her life!”
“And how does she pass her time?” asked he, with some astonishment.
“She manages the whole estate,” said Nelligan; “her uncle 's a conceited old fool, incapable of anything, and lets her do what she likes; and so she drains, and plants, and encloses; makes roads, bridges, and even harbors; has all the new-fangled inventions about farming, and, if what I hear be true, is spending more money on the property than the fee-simple is worth.”
“Yes, sir,” chimed in Magennis; “and she 's trying hard to bring back the old feudal devotion to the Chief, which was the bane of Ireland. She wants the tenants to have no will of their own, but just to vote whatever the landlord tells them. She had the impudence to tell my 'august leader' that they had no need of him down there,—that the county was too poor to waste its energies in factious squabbles.”
“If she 'd let the people alone about their religion, I 'd think better of her,” said Father Neal. “What does she know about controversial points and disputed dogmas?”
“Maybe you 're wrong about that,” broke in Peter Hayes. “She came to me the other day for ten shillings for a school, and she said, 'Come over, Mr. Hayes; come and tell me if there 's anything you are dissatisfied with.'”
“And did you go?” asked the priest.
“Faix! I did not,” said Peter, with a dry look. “I thought the visit might cost me ten shillings, and so I stayed at home.”
The manner in which he uttered these words produced a hearty laugh, in which he himself most good-humoredly took part.