“They do, darlin'.”
“Well, then, I will meet him there. Oh, my head—my head! I cannot bear—bear this racking pain.”
Her mother, who, though an uneducated woman, was by no means deficient in sagacity, immediately perceived that her mind was beginning to exhibit symptoms of being unsettled. Having, therefore, immediately called one of the maid-servants, she gave her orders to stay with Una, who had now gone to bed, until she herself could again return to her. She instantly proceeded to the parlor, where her husband and son were, and with a face pale from alarm, told them that she feared Una's mind was going.
“May the Almighty forbid!” exclaimed her father, laying down his knife and fork, for they had just sat down to dinner; “oh, what makes you say such a thing, Bridget? What on earth makes you think it?”
“For Heaven's sake, mother, tell us at once,” inquired the son, rising from the table, and walking distractedly across the room.
“Why, she's beginning to rave about him,” replied her mother; “she's afther saying that she'll be married to him in spite o' them.”
“In spite o' who, Bridget?” asked the Bodagh, wiping his eyes—“in spite o' who does she mane?”
“Why, I suppose in spite of Flanagan and thim that found him guilty,” replied his wife.
“Well, but what else did she say, mother?”
“She axed me if marriages warn't made in heaven; and I tould her that the people said so; upon that she said she'd meet him there, and then she complained of her head. The trewth is, she has a heavy load of sickness on her back, and the sorra hour should be lost till we get a docthor.”