So saying, she went away, and left poor Biddy quite cast down at what she had said, for, to tell the truth, she loved Shaun very much, and had no hopes of being able to find out the name of the little woman, on which, it appeared, so much to her depended.
It was very near the same hour of the same day that Sally Gorman was sitting alone in her father's house, thinking of the kemp, when who should walk in to her but our friend the little red woman.
'God save you, honest woman,' said Sally, 'this is a fine day that's in it, the Lord be praised!'
'It is,' said the woman, 'as fine a day as one could wish for: indeed it is.'
'Have you no news on your travels?' asked Sally.
'The only news in the neighbourhood,' replied the other, 'is this great kemp that's to take place at Shaun Buie M'Gaveran's. They say you're either to win him or lose him then,' she added, looking closely at Sally as she spoke.
'I'm not very much afraid of that,' said Sally, with confidence; 'but even if I do lose him, I may get as good.'
'It's not easy gettin' as good,' rejoined the old woman, 'an' you ought to be very glad to win him, if you can.'
'Let me alone for that,' said Sally. 'Biddy's a good girl, I allow; but as for spinnin', she never saw the day she could leave me behind her. Won't you sit an' rest you?' she added; 'maybe you're tired.'
'It's time for you to think of it,' thought the woman, but she spoke nothing: 'but,' she added to herself on reflection, 'it's better late than never—I'll sit awhile, till I see a little closer what she's made of.'