'Begorra, I don't know. A man has to look before him sharp.'
'And who is the other? Mary's cousin?'
'Yes, miss—long Tom Connor's daughter, from Shruve. She's up with Mary since Holly-eve. Hudie's lookin' after her.'
'She's no beauty, Tim.'
'No, miss; but she's settled. They do say she's a trifle coarse in the temper; but she has the finest two-year-old heifer ever I set my eyes on. A pure beauty, Miss Ellen.'
'And what good would the cow be to you, Tim, if you had a sour cross-grained wife at home?'
'Maybe she wouldn't be sour or cross when she'd have a good house over her head an' plenty. She's gettin old, Miss Ellen, and she sees the young ones comin' on, an' her left. There'd be a quare change in her if she had her own way.'
'You seem to think more of the cow than the girl, Tim!' I retorted.
'Troth, it's the purtiest av the two. But miss, I'm sayin', what would you advise me?'
'Marry the girl you like best, Tim; never mind the cow. A young sweet-tempered girl like Mary, who has been so good to her sickly father and mother, so gentle and loving to those wild brothers, cannot fail to make a good wife. You will never be sorry, if you marry the girl you like best.'