There were few women in her sphere of life, or indeed in any sphere of life, who dispensed more good to the poor and distressed than Mrs. Purcel; and in all her kindness and charities she was most cordially aided and supported by her admirable daughters.  Within a wide circle around her dwelling, sickness and destitution, or unexpected calamity, were ever certain to be cheered by the benevolent hand of herself or her daughters.  The latter, indeed, had latterly relieved her, in a great degree, if not altogether, of all her distant and outdoor charities, so that little now was left to her management but the claims of such poor as flocked for assistance to the house.

Mass having been concluded, and the benediction given in the chapel of Red Ridge, Mr. Purcel and his family soon appeared among the crowd on the green, preparing to return home.  The car was driven up opposite the chapel door, to the place where they were in the habit of waiting for it.  The two brothers came out along with their sisters, and signed to the lads who had been holding their horses to bring them up.  In the meantime, Buck English, unabashed by the rebuff he had received, once more approached, and just as the car had come up, tendered his gallantry—­as he called it—­with his usual politeness.

“I trust, leedies, that as you were not kin-descending enough to let me have the gallantry of helping you off, you will let me have the pleasure of helping you on?”

“That lady behind you appears to have prior claims upon you, Mr. English.”

“Behind me!” he exclaimed, turning about.  “Why, Miss Joolia, there’s no leddy behind me.”

In the meantime she beckoned to her brother who, while the, proctor was assisting his wife to take her seat, helped up both the girls, who nodding to the Buck, said—­

“Thank you, Mr. English:  we feel much obliged for your gallant intentions; quite as much, indeed, as if you had carried them into effect.”

This joke, so soon played off after that which had preceded it, and upon the same person, too, occasioned another very general laugh at the Buck’s expense; and, beyond a doubt, filled him with a double measure of mortification and resentment.

“There you go,” he muttered, “and it was well said before Mass, that if you set a beggar on horseback he’ll ride to the divil.”

“To whom do you apply that language?” asked Alick Purcel.

“To one Michael Purcel, a tithe-proctor, an oppressor and a grinder of the poor,” returned Buck, fiercely.

“And, you insolent scoundrel, how dare you use such language to my father?” said the other.  “I tell you, that if it were not from a reluctance to create an unbecoming quarrel so near the house of God, and so soon after his worship, I would horsewhip you, you illiterate, vulgar rascal, where you stand.”

“I would be glad to catch you making the attempt,” replied the Buck, with a look of fury; “because I would give you such a lesson as you would never forget.  I would let you know that it isn’t your father’s unfortunate tenants and day-laborers you have before you—­and that you scourge like hounds in a kennel.”