“Why, your honor,” she replied—“but, blessed Father, how did you come to know my name?”
“That's a question,” he replied, solemnly, “which you ought not to ask me. It is enough that you see I know it. How is your husband, Frank, and how is your daughter, Mary? She's complaining of late—is she not?”
This private knowledge of the family completely overwhelmed her, and she felt unable to speak for some time.
“Do not be in a hurry, Mrs. Honlaghan,” said he, mildly; “reflect upon what you are about to say, and take your time.”
“It's a ghost, your reverence,” she replied—“a ghost that haunts the house.”
“Very well, Mrs. Houlaghan; the fee for laying a ghost is five shillings; I will trouble you for that sum; we conjurers have no power until we get money from the party concerned, and then we can work with effect.”
The simple woman, in the agitation of the moment, handed him the amount of his demand, and then collected herself to hear the response, and the means of laying the ghost.
“Well, now,” said he, “tell me all about this ghost, Mrs. Houlaghan. How long has it been troubling the family?”
“Why, then, ever since Frank lost the use of his sight, now goin' upon five months.”
“When does it appear?”