Miss M'Evoy resumed her narrative.
"'That's a pretty flower you have in your button-hole,' said he. 'It is,' said I."
"You didn't tell him a great deal he didn't know," said her mother.
"'Maybe you might give it to me?' said he. 'Maybe I might not!' said I. 'And where do you live?' said he. 'Percy Place,' says Mary, before you could wink. Anyone would have to believe her. 'Upon my soul,' said he, 'I'll have the pleasure of calling upon you. Might I ask what your name is?' 'O'Rooney,' says Mary, 'and this is my cousin, Miss Letitia Gollagher.' Well, when Mary said 'Gollagher,' I burst!"
Miss M'Evoy here put down her cup, and to some slight extent repeated the operation.
"I suppose the foreign gentleman told you his own name then?" said Dr. Hickey, whose complexion had warmed up remarkably.
"He did not," said Miss M'Evoy; "but perhaps that was because he wasn't asked, and it was then M'ma came up. I can tell you he didn't wait to be introduced!"
"I have a sister-in-law living in Percy Place," said Mrs. M'Evoy, passing her handkerchief over her brow, and addressing no one in particular, "and it was some day last month she was telling me of a young man that was knocking at all the doors down the street, and she thought he was a Collector of some sort. He came to her house too, and he told the girl he was looking for some ladies of the name of Gollagher or O'Rooney."
She paused, and regarded Dr. Hickey.
"I wonder did he find them?" asked Dr. Hickey, who was obviously being forced on to the ropes.