“Only think of him,” exclaimed the father, breathless—“only think of him havin' the assurance to propose a match between you an' his baby-faced daughter! Ho! Dher manhim, Owen Connor,” he shouted, shaking the staff at Owen as he spoke—“Dher manhim! if I was near you, I'd put your bones through other, for darin' to mintion sich a thing!”
Owen Connor, on finding that he was na longer pursued, stood to reconnoitre the enemy:—
“Denis Oge,” he shouted back, “be on to Maynooth as fast as possible, except you wish to have my poor child left fatherless entirely. Go way, an' my blessin' be along wid you; but let there be never another word about that business while you live.”
“Father,” said Denis, “I'm scandalized at your conduct on this dignified occasion. I am also angry with Brian and the rest of you. Did you not observe that the decent man was advanced in liquor? I would have told you so at once, were it not that he was present while I spoke. Did I not give you as strong a hint as possible? Did I not tell you that 'I spoke significantly?' Now hear me. Take the first opportunity of being reconciled to Owen Connor. Be civil to him; for I assure you he esteems me very highly. Be also kind to his daughter, who is an excellent girl; but I repeat it, her father esteems me highly.”
“Does he think highly of you, Denis?”
“I have said so,” he replied.
“Then, throth, we're sorry for what has happened, poor man. But the never a one o' me, Denis, saw the laste sign of liquor about him. Throth, we will make it up wid him, thin. An' we'll be kind to his daughter, too, Denis.”
“Then as a proof that you will follow my advice, I lay it on you as a duty, to let me know how they are, whenever you write to me.”
“Throth, we will, Denis;—indeed will we. Come in now, dear; this is the last night you're to be wid us, an' they're all missin! you in the house.”
On that night no person slept in Denis O'Shaughnessy's, except our hero, and his mother and sisters. As morning approached a heaviness of spirits prevailed among the family, which of course was not felt by any except his immediate relations. The more distant friends, who remained with them for the night, sang and plied the bottle with a steadiness which prevented them from feeling the want of rest. About six o'clock, breakfast was ready, Denis dressed, and every arrangement made for his immediate departure. His parents—his brothers, and his sisters were all in tears, and he himself could master his emotions with great difficulty. At length the hour to which the family of our candidate had long looked forward, arrived, and Denis rose to depart for Maynooth. Except by the sobs and weeping, the silence was unbroken when he stood up to bid them farewell.