“To be sure, to be sure,” said Mrs. McNally nervously.  She was very much in awe of her firstborn, who was indeed possessed of a considerable amount of determination.  “The young man, of course, ’ull make his own choice, but I must say I think it ’ud be only becoming if it was Ju.”

Juliana glanced triumphantly round on the row of crestfallen faces, and a sudden silence fell, during which Elleney, who had stood listening with deep interest, suddenly remembered the now sodden toast and handed it dutifully round.

Maggie Nolan’s eyes met hers in wrathful protest as she helped herself.

“Did ye ever see sich a girl as Ju?” she whispered.

“A regular grab-all.  Of course if me a’nt goes favourin’ her, the poor fellow ’ull have to take her.  But I pity him, aye do I.”

“Sure maybe he won’t,” whispered Elleney back, consolingly.  “He’ll be apt to be pickin’ wan o’ the young ones—­I shouldn’t wonder if it was yourself, Maggie.”

“If it wasn’t for the money I dare say you’d have as good a chance as the rest of us,” said Maggie, mollified by this tribute; “but of course the father wouldn’t hear of any girl without a fortun’.”

By an odd freak of fate, however, it was Elleney who first had speech with Brian Brennan when he came to seek a wife in Mrs. McNally’s house.  Elleney, indeed, was not in the house when his eyes first fell upon her; she was kneeling on the doorstep, scrubbing it with might and main.  He had driven out from Dublin instead of coming by train, and arrived in consequence earlier than was expected.  Elleney wore the pink cotton frock in which she went about her work of a morning; her sleeves were rolled up, and her skirt pinned back.  Her face was flushed with a lovely colour, and the breeze lifted loose strands of her nut-brown hair, as she squatted back on her heels in answer to the stranger’s salutation.

“Is Mrs. McNally within?  I think she’s expecting me.”

“Oh,” said Elleney, looking up with those big astonished eyes of hers, “is it Mr. Brennan?”

“It’s that same,” responded Brian cheerfully.

Elleney jumped up, knocking over her pail in her agitation, and wiped her little damp hands on her apron.

“Me a’nt is in the shop,” she said hurriedly.  “If ye’ll walk inside I’ll call her in a minute.”

“A-ha!” said Mr. Brian, “you’re one o’ the nieces, are ye?  Are the rest anyways like ye?”

“They wouldn’t take it as a compliment if ye were to say so,” replied Elleney.  “This way, sir.”

The big young man followed her into the parlour.  He was a very big young man, and he had a beautiful head of hair, black and curly; and he looked extremely well fed and pleased with the world in general.

“Bless me, child, what a show ye are!” exclaimed Mrs. McNally, when Elleney breathlessly summoned her.  “Look at your sleeves, and your skirt tucked up an’ all.  I declare I’m ashamed of my life—­”