“‘Hut!’ said the other, ’what could we expect from a proud piece like her, that brings a Manwill* to mass every Sunday, purtending she can read in it, and Jem Finigan saw the wrong side of the book towards her, the Sunday of the Purcession!’**

     * Manuel—­a Catholic Prayer-book.

** The priest described in “Ned M’Keown” having been educated on the Continent, was one of the first to introduce the Procession of the Host in that part of the country.  The Consecrated Host, shrined in a silver vessel formed like a chalice, was borne by a priest under a silken canopy; and to this the other clergymen present offered up incense from a censer, whilst they circumambulated the chapel inside and out, if the day was fine.

“At this hit they both formed another risible junction, quite as sarcastic as the former—­in the midst of which the innocent object of their censure, dressed in all her obnoxious finery, came up and joined them.  She was scarcely sated—­I blush to the very point of my pen during the manuscription—­when the confabulation assumed a character directly antipodial to that which marked the precedent dialogue.

“’My gracious, Rose, but that’s a purty thing you have got in your gown!—­where did you buy it?’

“’Och, thin, not a one of myself likes it over much.  I’m sorry I didn’t buy a gingham:  I could have got a beautiful patthern, all out, for two shillings less; but they don’t wash so well as this.  I bought it in Paddy McGartland’s, Peggy.’

“’Troth, it’s nothing else but a great beauty; I didn’t see anything on you this long time that becomes you so well, and I’ve remarked that you always look best in white.’

“‘Who made it, Rose?’ inquired Katty; ‘for it sits illegant’

“‘Indeed,’ replied Rose, ’for the differ of the price, I thought it better to bring it to Peggy Boyle, and be sartin of not having it spoiled.  Nelly Keenan made the last; and although there was a full breadth more in it nor this, bad cess to the one of her but spoiled it on me; it was ever so much too short in the body, and too tight in the sleeves, and then I had no step at all at all.’

“‘The sprush bonnet is exactly the fit for the gown,’ observed Katty; ‘the black and the white’s jist the cut—­how many yards had you, Rose?’

“‘Jist ten and a half; but the half-yard was for the tucks.’

“‘Ay, faix! and brave full tucks she left in it; ten would do me, Rose?’

“’Ten!—­no, nor ten and a half; you’re a size bigger nor me at the laste, Peggy; but you’d be asy fitted, you’re so well made.’

“‘Rose, darling,’ said Peggy, ’that’s a great beauty, and shows off your complexion all to pieces; you have no notion how well you look in it and the sprush.’

“In a few minutes after this her namesake, Rose Galh O’Hallaghan, came towards the chapel, in society with her father, mother, and her two sisters.  The eldest, Mary, was about twenty-one; Rose, who was the second, about nineteen, or scarcely that; and Nancy, the junior of the three, about twice seven.