Sir Ulick came up just as this was said, and, alarmed at the tone of voice, used all his address to bring his son back to good temper; and he might have succeeded, but that Peggy Carroll chanced to appear at that instant.
“Who is that?” cried Marcus—“Peggy Sheridan, as I live! is it not?”
“No, please your honour, but Peggy Sheridan that was—Peggy Carroll that is,” said Peggy, curtsying, with a slight blush, and an arch smile.
“So, you have married that Moriarty at last.”
“I have, please your honour—he is a very honest boy—and I’m very happy—if your honour’s pleased.”
“Who persuaded your father to this, pray, contrary to my advice?”
“Nobody at all, plase your honour,” said Peggy, looking frightened.
“Why do you say that, Peggy,” said Ormond, “when you know it was I who persuaded your father to give his consent to your marriage with Moriarty?”
“You! Mr. Ormond!—Oh, I comprehend it all now,” said Marcus, with his sneering look and tone: “no doubt you had good reasons.”
Poor Peggy blushed the deepest crimson.