“Connor, avich, your mother has made a fool of you, or you wouldn't spake the nonsense you spoke this minute.”
“My word to you, father, I'll take all the money I'll get; but what am I to do? Bodagh Buie an' his wife will never consent to allow her to marry me, I can tell you; an' if she marries me without their consent, you both know I have no way of supportin' her, except you, father, assist me.”
“That won't be needful, Connor; you may manage them; they won't see her want; she's an only daughter; they couldn't see her want.”
“An' isn't he an only son, Fardorougha?” exclaimed the wife. “An' my sowl to happiness but I believe you'd see him want.”
“Any way,” replied her husband, “I'm not for matches against the consint of parents; they're not lucky; or can't you run away wid her, an' thin refuse marryin' her except they come down wid the cash?”
“Oh, father!” exclaimed Connor, “father, father, to become a villain!”
“Connor,” said his mother, rising up in a spirit of calm and mournful solemnity, “never heed; go to bed, achora, go to bed.”
“Of coorse I'll never heed, mother,” he replied; “but I can't help sayin' that, happy as I was awhile agone, my father is sendin' me to bed with a heavy heart. When I asked your advice, father, little I thought it would be to do—but no matter; I'll never be guilty of an act that 'ud disgrace my name.”
“No, avillish,” said his mother, “you never will; God knows it's as much an' more than you an' other people can do, to keep the name we have in decency.”
“It's fine talk,” observed Fardorougha, “but what I advise has been done by hundreds that wor married an' happy afterwards; how—an—iver you needn't get into a passion, either of you; I'm not pressin' you,' Connor, to it.”