"Pounds! Aunty! yes, to be sure," replied Mark, perfectly bewildered, "but I thought Ned Riley was"——
"Peggy's sweetheart—well, we all know that," interrupted Bridget, inly enjoying the consternation that painted Mark's cheek a livid white. "And you to be so jealous of Riley," she went on, "not to dance with me last night; I knew the reason, but the jealousy that springs from love is soon forgot, so I forgot yours."
"Peggy! his sweetheart? Riley's?"
"To be sure, don't you know they are going to be married?"
"No!" vacantly replied the sorely bewildered Mark.
"Oh, yes! and now I want to tell you a pet plan of mine, if you don't think me too bold, Mark, and that is, how nice and cozy it would be, if we could only all be married on the same day."
This was too much for Mark; he couldn't endure it any longer; he started up, pushed his hat very far on his head, saying, in what he intended to be a most severe tone:
"Miss O'Conner, I don't know what could have put such an idea into your head. Marry, indeed! I've enough to do to take care of myself. No, I'm sorry to wound your feelings, but I shall never marry!"
"Oh! yes, you will," said Bridget, placing her arm in his, which he disengaged, saying bitterly:
"Never! never!"