{Exeunt GILBERT and Mr. HOPE.
Christy. Good night to ye kindly, gentlemen. There’s a fool to love for you now! If I’d ax’d a hundred, I’d ha’ got it. But still there’s only one thing. Ferrinafad will go mad when she learns I have sold the new inn, and she to live on in this hole, and no place for the piano. I hope Biddy did not hear a sentence of it. (Calls) Biddy! Biddy Doyle! Biddy, can’t ye?
Enter Biddy.
Biddy. What is it?
Christy. Did you hear any thing? Oh, I see ye did by your eyes. Now, hark’ee, my good girl: don’t mention a sentence to Ferrinafad of my settling the new inn, till the bargain’s complate, and money in both pockets—you hear.
Biddy. I do, sir. But I did not hear afore.
Christy. Becaase, she, though she’s my daughter, she’s crass—I’ll empty my mind to you, Biddy.
Biddy. (aside) He has taken enough to like to be talking to poor Biddy.
Christy. Afore Florry was set up on her high horse by that little independency her doting grandmother left her, and until she got her head turned with that Ferrinafad edication, this Florry was a good girl enough. But now what is she?—Given over to vanities of all sorts, and no comfort in life to me, or use at all—not like a daughter at all, nor mistress of the house neither, nor likely to be well married neither, or a credit to me that way! And saucy to me on account of that money of hers I liquidated unknown’st.
Biddy. True for ye, sir.