At length the happy Sunday morning arrived, and never did a more glorious sun light up the beautiful valley of Ballydhas than that which shed down its smiling radiance from heaven upon their union.  Felix’s heart was full of that eager and trembling delight, which, where there is pure and disinterested love, always marks our emotions upon that blessed epoch in human life.  Maura, contrary to her wont, was unusually silent during the whole morning; but Felix could perceive that she watched all his emotions with the eye of a lynx.  When the hour of going to chapel approached, he deemed it time to dress, and, for that purpose, went to a large oaken tallboy that stood in the kitchen, in order to get out his clothes.  It was locked, however, and his sister told him at once, that the key, which was in her possession, should not pass into his hands that day.  “No,” she continued, “nor sorra the ring you’ll put on the same girl with my consent.  Aren’t you a purty young omadhaun, you spiritless creature, to go to marry sich a niddy-nauddhy, when you know that the best fortunes in the glen would jump at you!  Yes, faiks! to bring home that mane, useless creature, that hasn’t a penny to the good!  A purty farmer’s wife she’ll make, and purtily she’ll fill my poor mother’s shoes, God be good to her!  A poor, unsignified, smooth-faced thing, that never did a dacent day’s work out of doors, barring to shake up a cock of hay, or pull the growing of a peck of flax!  Oh! thin, mother darlin’, that’s in glory this day! but it’s a purty head of a house he’s puttin’ afther you; and myself, too, must knock under to the like of her, and see her put up in authority over my head.  Let me alone, Felix; your laughing wont pass.  The sorra kay you’ll get from me to-day.”

Felix, who was resolved to procure the key, saw that there was nothing for it but a little friendly violence.  A good-humored struggle accordingly commenced between them—­good-humored on his side, but bitter and determined on the part of Maura.  Finding it difficult to secure the key, even by violence, Felix was about to give up the contest, and force the lock at once, when Hugh entered.

“What’s all this?” he inquired.  “What racket’s this?  Is it beating your sister you are?  Is the young headstrong profligate beating you, Maura, eh?”

“No, Hugh, not that; but he wants the kay to deck himself up for marrying that pot of his.  God knows, I’d rather he did beat me than do what he’s going to do.”

“Felix,” said his brother, “I’m over you in place of your father, and I tell you that it’ll cost me a sore fall, or I’ll put a stop to this day’s work.  A purty bridegroom you are, and a ’sponsible father of a family you’ll make!  By my sowl, it’s a horsewhip I ought to take to you, and lash all thoughts of marriage out of you.  What a hurry you are in to go a shoolin’ (to become the rustic chevalier d’industrie).  You had betther provide yourself the bag and staff at once, for if you marry this portionless, good-for-nothing hussy——­”