“What do you mean, sir,” she asked.
“Why,” said he, “couldn't there be an understanding between us? In fact, Mrs. Tyrrell, you would find me a friend to you.”
She made no reply but returned into the room.
“Mr. M'Clutchy,” said she, “I thought that a woman—especially a poor, unprotected widow like me—might, at least, come into your house about her necessary business without being insulted; I thought that if there was one house above another where I ought to expect protection, it is yours. It's your duty, I think, to protect them that's livin' upon this property, and strugglin' to pay you, or him that employs you, the hard-earned rent that keeps them in poverty and hardship. I think, sir, it ought to be your duty, as I said, to protect me, and such as me, rather than leave us exposed to the abominable proposals of your son.”
“How is this?” said Val; “where are you, Phil?”
Phil entered with a grin on him, that betrayed very clearly the morals of the father, as well as of himself. There was not the slightest appearance of shame or confusion about him; on the contrary, he looked upon the matter as a good joke, but, by no means, so good as if it had been successful.
“Phil,” said his father, barely restraining a smile, “is it possible that you could dare to insult Mrs. Tyrrell under this roof?”
“D—n my honor, a confounded lie,” replied Phil; “she wanted me to lend her the money, and because I did not, she told you I made proposals to her. All revenge and a lie.”
Mrs. Tyrrell looked at him—“Well,” said she, “if there is a just God in heaven, you will be made an example of yet. Oh! little they know that own this property, and every other property like it—of the insults, and hardships, and oppressions, that their tenantry must suffer in their absence from them that's placed over them; and without any one to protect them or appeal to for satisfaction or relief—sir, that villain in the shape of your son—that cowardly villain knows that the words he insulted me in are not yet cowld upon his lips.”
“I have reason to put every confidence in what my son says,” replied Val very coolly, “and he is not a villain, Mrs. Tyrrell—so I wish you a good morning, ma'am!”