“Dar ma chuirp, I'll hould goold I put the saddle on the right horse in no time,” said Biddy. “Misthress, will you call Kitty Lowry, ma'am, i' you plase? Ill do everything above boord; no behind backs for me; blazes to the one alive hates foul play more nor I do.”
We ought to have observed that one of Biddy's peculiarities was a more than usual readiness at letting fly, and not unfrequently at giving an oath; and as her character presented a strange compound of simplicity and cleverness, honesty and adroitness, her master and mistress, and fellow-servants, were frequently amused by this unfeminine propensity. For instance, if Una happened to ask her, “Biddy, did you iron the linen?” her usual reply was, “No, blast the iron, miss, I hadn't time.” Of course the family did everything in their power to discourage such a practice; but on this point they found it impossible to reform her. Kitty Lowry's countenance, when she appeared, certainly presented strong indications of guilt; but still there was a hardness of outline about it which gave promise at the same time of the most intrepid assurance. Biddy, on the. other hand, was brimful of consequence, and a sense of authority, on finding that the judicial power was on this occasion entrusted chiefly to her hands. She rose up when Kitty entered, and stuck a pair of red formidable fists with great energy into her sides.
“Pray ma'am,” said she, “what's the raisin' you refused to let me in to-night, afther gettin' away wid my life from that netarnal blackguard, Bartle Flanagan—what's the raisin I say, ma'am, that you kep' me out afther you knewn who was in it?”
There was here visible a slight vibration of the head, rather gentle at the beginning, but clearly prophetic of ultimate energy, and an unequivocal determination to enforce whatever she might say with suitable action even in its widest sense.
“An' pray, ma'am,” said the other, for however paradoxical it may appear, it is an established case that in all such displays between women, politeness usually keeps pace with scurrility; “An' pray, ma'am,” replied Kitty, “is it to the likes o' you we're to say our catechize?”
Biddy was resolved not to be outdone in politeness, and replied—
“Af you plaise, ma'am,” with a courtesy.
“Lord protect us! what will we hear next, I wondher? Well, ma'am?” Here her antagonist stood, evidently waiting for the onset.
“You'll hear more than'll go down your back pleasant afore I've done wid you, ma'am.”
“Don't be makin' us long for it in the mane time, Miss Biddy.”