“Divil a pleasanter,” said Peter:  “I tell you, I’d like it well; an’, for my own part, if the deludher here has no objection, I’m not goin’ to spoil sport.”

Ellish looked hard at the priest; her keen blue eye glittered with a sparkling light, that gave decided proofs of her sagacity being intensely excited.

“All that you’ve said,” she replied, “is very fine; but in regard o’ the bag-pipes, an’ Miss Granua Mulcahy’s squeezin’ the music out o’ thim—­why, if it plased God to bring my son to the staff an’ bag—­a common beggar—­indeed, in that case, Miss Granua’s bagpipes might sarve both o’ thim, an’ help, maybe, to get them a night’s lodgin’ or so; but until that time comes, if you respect your niece, you’ll burn her bagpipes, dhrone, chanther, an’ all.  If you are for a match, which I doubt, spake out, as I said, and say what fortune you’ll pay down on the nail wid her, otherwise we’re losin’ our time, an’ that’s a loss one can’t make up.”

The priest, who thought he could have bantered Ellish into an alliance, without pledging himself to pay any specific fortune, found that it was necessary for him to treat the matter seriously, if he expected to succeed.  He was certainly anxious for the match; and as he really wished to see his niece—­who, in truth, was an excellent girl, and handsome—­well settled, he resolved to make a stretch and secure Dan if possible.

“Mrs. Connell,” said he, “I will be brief with you.  The most I can give her is three hundred pounds, and even that by struggling and borrowing:  I will undertake to pay it as you say—­on the nail! for I am really anxious that my niece should be connected with so worthy and industrious a family.  What do you say?”

“I’m willin’ enough,” replied Peter.  It’s not asy to get that and a Catholic girl.”

“There’s some thruth in what you say, aroon, sure enough,” observed Ellish; “an’ if his Reverence puts another hundhre to it, why, in the name of goodness, let them go together.  If you don’t choose that, Docthor, never breathe the subject to me agin.  Dan’s not an ould man yit, an’ has time enough to get wives in plenty.”

“Come,” replied the priest, “there’s my hand, it’s a bargain; although I must say there’s no removing you from your point.  I will give four hundred, hook or crook; but I’ll have sad scrambling to get it together.  Still I’ll make it good.”

“Down on the nail?” inquired Ellish.

“Ay! ay!  Down on the nail,” replied the priest.

“Well, in the name o’ Goodness, a bargain be it,” said Peter; “but, upon my credit, Ellish, I won’t have the bag-pipes burnt, anyhow.  Faith, I must hear an odd tune, now an’ thin, when I call to see the childhre.”

“Pether, acushla, have sinse.  Would you wish to see your daughter-in-law playin’ upon the bag-pipes, when she ought to be mindin’ her business, or attendin’ her childhre?  No, your Reverence, the pipes must be laid aside.  I’ll have no pipery connection for a son of mine.”