Owen. I answered and said, I thought they’d do very well together; and that it was good when the Irish shamrock and the English rose was united.
Mabel. (hiding her face with her hands) Oh, Owen, that was too plain.
Owen. Plain! Not at all—it was not. It’s only your tenderness makes you feel it too plain—for, listen to me, Mabel. (Taking her hand from her face.) Sure, if it had any meaning particular, it’s as strong for Miss Gallagher as for any body else.
Mabel. That’s true:—and may be it was that way he took it,—and may be it was her he was thinking of—
Owen. When he asked me for you? But I’ll not mislead you—I’ll say nothing; for it was a shame he did not speak out, after all the encouragement he got from me.
Mabel. Then did he get encouragement from you?
Owen. That is—(smiling)—taking it the other way, he might understand it so, if he had any conscience. Come now, Mabel, when he went to the well, what did he say to you? for I am sure he said something.
Mabel. Then he said nothing—but just put the rose and shamrock into my hand.
Owen. Oh! did he?—And what did you say?
Mabel. I said nothing.—What could I say?