My feet by this time were absolutely in griskins, nor was I by any means prepared for a most unexpected proposal, which the spokeswoman, after some private conversation with the other, undertook to make.  I could not imagine what the purport of the dialogue was; but I easily saw, that I myself was the subject of it, for I could perceive them glance at me occasionally, as if they felt a degree of hesitation in laying down the matter for my approval; at length she opened it with great adroitness:—­“Musha, an’ to be sure he will, Katty dear an’ darlin’—­and mightn’t you know he would—­the refusin’ to do it isn’t in his face, as any body that has eyes to see may know—­you ashamed!—­and what for would ye be ashamed?—­asthore, it’s ’imself that’s not proud, or he wouldn’t tramp it, barefooted, along wud two ould crathurs like huz; him that has no sin to answer for—­but I’ll spake to ’im myself, and yell see it’s he that won’t refuse it.  Why thin, your Reverence, Katty an’ I war thinkin’, that as there’s only three of us, an’ the town’s afore us, where we’ll rest a while, plaise God—­for by that time the shower that’s away over there will be comin’ down;—­that as there’s but three of us, would it be any harm if we sed a bit of a Rosary, and your Reverence to join us?”

This was, indeed, a most unexpected attack; but it was evident that I was set down by this curious woman as a paragon of piety; though indeed her object was rather to smooth the way in my mind, for what she intended should be a very excellent opinion of her own godliness.

I looked about me, and as far as my eye could reach, the road appeared solitary.  I did, ’tis true, debate the matter with myself, pro and con, for I felt the absurdity of my situation, and of this abrupt proposal, more than I was willing to suppose I did.  Still, thought I, it is a serious thing to refuse praying with this poor woman, because she is poor—­God is no respecter of person—­this too is a Rosary to the Blessed Virgin; besides, nothing can be too humbling for a person when once engaged in this holy station—­“So, pride, I trample you under my feet!” said I to myself, at a moment when the appearance of a respectable person on the road would have routed all my humility.  I complied, however, with a very condescending grace, and to it we went.  The old women pulled out their beads, and I got my hat, which had one of my shoes in it, under my arm.  They requested that I would open the Rosary, which I did:  and thus we kept tossing the ball of prayer from one to another along the way, whilst I was bending and sinking on the hard gravel in perfect agony.  But we had not gone far, when the shower, which we did not suppose would have fallen until we should reach the town, began to descend with greater bounty than we were at all prepared for, or than I was, at least; for I had no outside coat:  but indeed the morning was so beautiful, that rain was scarcely to be apprehended.  With respect to the old lady, she appeared to be better acquainted