"Let me alone now, aunt; I'm tired after the journey; and it's not of her I'm thinking."
"See that now—arra na bocklish, Tom, don't be afther telling me that; shure didn't Mick himself write to me two or three times to let me know how matthers was going on, and the grand party he gev on Hallow-Eve, and the fun ye all had, and how you danced wid her a'most the whole night."
"Nonsense, aunt! Did he tell you how anybody else danced?"
"No, the sorra word he said about any wan that was there, barrin' yourself an' herself."
"Well, never heed her now. I'll [{206}] tell you more about her to-morrow or next day, and maybe ask your advice upon the subject at the same time."
Their conversation was here interrupted, as Tom thought very opportunely, by the entrance of Bill Wilson, whose welcome for his wife's nephew was as hearty, in a manner, as that which he had received from herself. The conversation, of course, now "became general;" and Bill Wilron, although he had never been out of Armagh, seemed to have everybody down about Tom's country pat by heart, for he asked for them all by name, not forgetting, although he left her to the last, to ask for Winny Cavana. It was evident to Tom, from his manner, that he was up to the project in that quarter; and as evident that, like his aunt, he knew nothing of how matters up to this had turned out, or how they were likely to end. He answered his uncle's questions, however, with reasonable self-possession; and his aunt, having perceived from his last observation to herself that there was "a screw loose," turned the conversation very naturally to the subject of Tom's physical probabilities, saying,
"Athen, Tom jewel, maybe it's what you're hungry, an' would like to take something to eat afore dinner; shure an' shure it's the first question I ought to have asked you."
"No, aunt, I thank you kindly, I'll take nothing until your dinner; there's a friend of mine lives in the skirts of the town; I want to see him, and I'll be back in less than an hour."
"A friend of yours, Tom? athen shure if he is, he ought to be a friend of ours; who is he, Tom a wochal?"
"Oh, no, aunt, you never heard of him. He's a boy I have a message to from, a friend in the country."