“Faix,” she replied, archly, “it’s well for you that Miss Kathleen’s not to the fore or you daren’t ax any one sich a question as that.”

“Well done, Nanny,” he returned; “do you think she knows what it’s like?”

“It’s not me,” she replied again, “you ought to be axin’ sich a question from; if you don’t know it I dunna who ought.”

“Begad, you’re sharp an’ ready, Nanny,” replied Bryan, laughing; “well, and how are you all in honest Jemmy Burke’s?”

“Some of us good, some of us bad, and some of us indifferent, but, thank goodness, all in the best o’ health.”

“Good, bad, and indifferent,” replied Bryan, pausing a little.  “Well, now, Nanny, if one was to ask you who is the good in your family, what would you say?”

“Of coorse myself,” she returned; “an’ stay—­let me see—­ay, the masther, honest Jemmy, he and I have the goodness between us.”

“And who’s the indifferent, Nanny?”

“Wait,” she replied; “yes—­no doubt of it—­if not worse—­why the mistress must come in for that, I think.”

“And now for the bad, Nanny?”

She shook her head before she spoke.  “Ah,” she proceeded, “there would be more in that house on the bad list than there is, if he, had his way.”

“If who had his way?”

“Masther Hycy.”

“Why is he the bad among you?”

“Thank God I know him now,” she replied, “an’ he knows I do; but he doesn’t know how well I know him.”

“Why, Nanny, are you in airnest?” asked Bryan, a good deal surprised, and not a little interested at what he heard, “surely I thought Mr. Hycy a good-hearted, generous young fellow that one could depend upon, at all events?”

“Ah, it’s little you know him,” she replied; “and I could”—­she looked at him and paused.

“You could what?” he asked.

“I could tell you something, but I daren’t.”

“Daren’t; why what ought you be afraid of?”

“It’s no matther, I daren’t an’ thats enough; only aren’t you an’ Kathleen Cavanagh goin’ to be married?”

“We will be married, I hope.”

“Well, then, keep a sharp look-out, an take care her father an’ mother doesn’t turn against you some o’ these days.  There a many a slip between the cup and the lip; that’s all I can say, an’ more than I ought; an’ if you ever mention my name, its murdhered I’ll be.”

“An’ how is Hycy consarned in this? or is he consarned in it?”

“He is, an’ he is not; I dursn’t tell you more; but I’m not afraid of him, so far from that, I could soon—­but what am I sayin’?  Good-bye, an’ as I said, keep a sharp lookout;” and having uttered these words, she tripped on hastily and left him exceedingly surprised at what she had said.

CHAPTER X.—­More of the Hycy Correspondence

A Family Debate—­Honest Speculations.