“I do,” said Pete stoutly.
“Oh, indeed, sir.”
“Listen. I'll be working like a nigger out yonder, and making my pile, and banking it up, and never seeing nothing but the goold and the girls——”
“My goodness! What do you say?”
“Aw, never fear! I'm a one-woman man, Kate; but loving one is giving me eyes for all. And you'll be waiting for me constant, and never giving a skute of your little eye to them drapers and druggists from Ramsey——”
“Not one of them? Not Jamesie Corrin, even—he's a nice boy, is Jamesie.”
“That dandy-divil with the collar? Hould your capers, woman!”
“Nor young Ballawhaine—Ross Christian, you know?”
“Ross Christian be—well, no; but, honour bright, you'll be saying, 'Peter's coming; I must be thrue!'”
“So I've got my orders, sir, eh? It's all settled then, is it? Hadn't you better fix the wedding-day and take out the banns, now that your hand is in? I have got nothing to do with it, seemingly. Nobody asks me.”