Clara. Yes. This I may say without partiality—whatever other faults my countrymen have, they certainly are a grateful people. My father, who knew them well, taught me from my childhood, to trust to Irish gratitude.
Sir W. (changing his tone) But, on the other hand, it is my duty to watch over your Irish generosity, Clara. Have you made any more promises, my dear, since morning?
Clara. Oh! no, sir; and I have heartily repented of that which I made this morning: for I find that this man to whom I have promised the new inn is a sad drunken, good-for-nothing person; and as for his daughter, whom I have never yet seen—
Sir W. (looking towards the entrance from the lawn)
“But who is this? What thing of sea or land?
Female of sex it seems—
That so bedeck’d, ornate and gay,
Comes this way sailing.”
Enter Miss GALLAGHER.
Miss G. Sir, I beg pardon. But I was told Miss O’Hara would wish to speak with Christy Gallagher, and I’m his daughter—he not being very well to-night. He will be up with miss in the morning—but is confined to his bed with a pain about his heart, he took, just when I was coming away.
{CHRISTY’S voice heard, singing, to the tune of “St. Patrick’s day in the morning.”
“Full bumpers of whiskey,
Will make us all frisky,
On Patrick’s day in the morning.”
Miss G. (aside) Oh! King of glory, if he is not come up after all!