'True for you, ma'am—true for you. She is a good girl, an' I'm nigh-hand sure I like her beyant any woman in the world; but Miss Ellen, I'd wish she had the cow!'
Next day I left home, nor did I return until the daffodils were glittering in the springing meadows around our home, and the rooks cawing over their fledglings in the woods behind our garden. Tim was married. I had heard that from mother early in the year; but upon which fair maid his choice had fallen, I was still uncertain. It was late at night when I returned from my travels, and mother had far too much to talk of to tell me the termination of Tim's courtship.
In the morning, I took my way into the garden, the farm-yard, the fields lying close by; but Tim was not to be seen; nor did I encounter him until late in the afternoon, when I discovered him busily trenching up some early cabbages in the back-garden. He seemed rather shy of me; but I put out my hand and greeted him kindly.
'You're welcome home, Mrs Grace, ma'am,' he said, striking his spade into the fresh-turned earth, and shaking the hand I gave him with more than ordinary warmth. 'We were thinking very long to have got you back.'
'Thank you, Tim. So I have to wish you joy.'
Tim looked sheepish, but speedily recovered himself. 'Yes, ma'am, if joy it be.'
'Oh, there can be no doubt on that score, Tim. I hope Mary is well?'
'Mary? Is it Mary Dogherty? Why, she's spoke of with Lanty Maguire that owns the ferry.'
'Why, I thought you were going to marry Mary, Tim?'
'Well, no, Miss Ellen, I did not. I b'lieve her an' Lanty was cried Sunday was eight days.'