“Oh! yis!” said the mother. “When fools make mistakes they lay the blame on Providence. How have you the impidence to talk o' Providence in that manner? I'll tell you where the Providence was. Providence sent you to Jack Dwyer's, and kep Jim Casey away, and put the anger into owld Jack's heart—that's what the Providence did!—and made the opening for you to spake up, and gave you a wife—a wife with property! Ah, there's where the Providence was!—and you were the masther of a snug house—that was Providence! And wouldn't myself have been the one to be helping you in the farm—rearing the powlts, milkin' the cow, makin' the iligant butther, with lavings of butthermilk for the pigs—the sow thriving, and the cocks and hens cheering your heart with their cacklin'—the hank o' yarn on the wheel, and a hank of ingins up the chimbley—oh! there's where the Providence would have been—that would have been Providence indeed!—but never tell me that Providence turned you out of the house; that was your own goostherumfoodle.”
“Can't he take the law o' them, aunt?” inquired Oonah.
“To be sure he can—and shall, too,” said the mother. “I'll be off to 'torney Murphy to-morrow; I'll pursue her for my eye, and Andy for the property, and I'll put them all in Chancery, the villains!”
“It's Newgate they ought to be put in,” said Andy.
“Tut, you fool, Chancery is worse than Newgate: for people sometimes get out of Newgate, but they never get out of Chancery, I hear.”
As Mrs. Rooney spoke, the latch of the door was raised, and a miserably clad woman entered, closed the door immediately after her, and placed the bar against it. The action attracted the attention of all the inmates of the house, for the doors of the peasantry are universally “left on the latch,” and never secured against intrusion until the family go to bed.
“God save all here!” said the woman, as she approached the fire.
“Oh, is that you, ragged Nance?” said Mrs. Rooney; for that was the unenviable but descriptive title the new-comer was known by: and though she knew it for her soubriquet, yet she also knew Mrs. Rooney would not call her by it if she were not in an ill temper, so she began humbly to explain the cause of her visit, when Mrs. Rooney broke in gruffly—
“Oh, you always make out a good rayson for coming; but we have nothing for you to-night.”
“Throth, you do me wrong,” said the beggar, “if you think I came shooling. [Footnote: Going on chance here and there, to pick up what one can.] It's only to keep harm from the innocent girl here.”