“The truth is, Hycy,” he added, “I have a wife in my eye for you.”

“I thought as much,” replied the other.  “I did imagine it was there you had her; name—­Mr. Burke—­name?”

“Troth, I’m ashamed, Hycy, to name her and yourself on the same day.”

“Well, can’t you name her to-day, and postpone me until to-morrow?”

“It would be almost a pity to have her thrown away upon you.  A good and virtuous wife, however, may do a great deal to reclaim a bad husband, and, indeed, you wouldn’t be the first profligate that was reformed in the same way.”

“Many thanks, Mr. Burke; you are quite geological this morning; isn’t he, ma’am?”

“When was he ever anything else?  God pardon him!  However, I know what he’s exterminatin’ for; he wants you to marry Kathleen Cavanagh.”

“Ay do I, Rosha; and she might make him a respectable man yet,—­that is, if any woman could.”

“Geological again, mother; well, really now, Katsey Cavanagh is a splendid girl, a fine animal, no doubt of it; all her points are good, but, at the same time, Mr. Burke, a trifle too plebeian for Hycy the accomplished.”

“I tell you she’s a devilish sight too good for you; and if you don’t marry her, you’ll never get such a wife.”

“Troth,” answered Mrs. Burke, “I think myself there’s something over you, or you wouldn’t spake as you do—­a wife for Hycy—­one of Gerald Cavanagh’s daughters make a wife for him!—­not while I’m alive at any rate, plaise God.”

“While you’re alive; well, may be not:—­but sure if it plases God to bring it about, on your own plan, I must endaivor to be contented, Rosha; ay, an’ how do you know but I’d dance at their weddin’ too! ha! ha! ha!”

“Oh, then, it’s you that’s the bitther pill, Jemmy Burke! but, thank God, I disregard you at all events.  It’s little respect you pay to my feelings, or ever did.”

“I trust, my most amiable mother, that you won’t suffer the equability of your temper to be disturbed by anything proceeding from such an antiphlogistic source.  Allow me to say, Mr. Burke, that I have higher game in view, and that for the present I must beg respectfully to decline the proposal which you so kindly made, fully sensible as I am of the honor you intended for me.  If you will only exercise a little patience, however, perhaps I shall have the pleasure ere long of presenting to you a lady of high accomplishments, amiable manners, and very considerable beauty.”

“Not a ‘Crazy Jane’ bargain, I hope?”

“Really, Mr. Burke, you are pleased to be sarcastic; but as for honest Katsey, have the goodness to take her out of your eye as soon as possible, for she only blinds you to your own interest and to mine.”

“You wouldn’t marry Kathleen, then?”

“For the present I say most assuredly not,” replied the son, in the same ironical and polite tone.

“Because,” continued his father, with a very grave smile, in which there was, to say truth, a good deal of the grin visible, “as poor Gerald was a good deal anxious about the matther, I said I’d try and make you marry her—­to oblige him.”