“Ay, you may well say ‘now,’” observed the prophet’s wife; “for until now, it’s they that could always afford it; an’ indeed it was the ready an’ the willin’ bit was ever at your father’s table.”

The stranger looked upon the serene and beautiful features of Mave with a long gaze of interest and admiration; after which she added, with a sigh: 

“And you, I believe, are the girl they talk so much about for the fair face and good heart?  Little pinetration it takes to see that you have both, my sweet girl.  If I don’t mistake, your name is Mave Sullivan, or Gra Gal, as the people mostly call you.”

Mave, whose natural delicacy was tender and pure as the dew-drop of morning, on hearing her praises thus uttered by the lips of a stranger, blushed so deeply, that her whole neck and face became suffused with that delicious crimson of modesty which, alas! is now of such rare occurrence among the sex, unconscious that, in doing so, she was adding fresh testimony to the impressions which had gone so generally abroad of her extraordinary beauty, and the many unostentatious virtues which adorned her humble life.

“Mave Sullivan is my name,” she replied, smiling through her blushes:  “as to the nickname, the people will call one what they like, no matther whether it’s right or wrong.”

“The people’s seldom wrong, then, in givin’ names o’ the kind,” returned the stranger; “but in your case, they’re right at all events, as any one may know that looks upon you:  that sweet face an’ them fair looks is seldom if ever found with a bad heart.  May God guard you, my purty and innocent girl, an’ keep you safe from all evil, I pray his holy name.”

The prophet’s wife and Mave exchanged looks as the woman spoke:  and the latter said: 

“I hope you don’t think there’s any evil before me.”

“Who is there,” replied the stranger, “that can say there’s not?  Sure it’s before us and about us every hour in the day; but in your case, darlin’, I jist say, be on your guard, an’ don’t trust or put belief in any one that you don’t know well.  That’s all I can say, an’ indeed all I know.”

“I feel thankful to you,” replied Mave; “and now that you wish me well, (for I’m sure you do,) maybe you’d grant me a favor?”

“If it is widin the bounds of my power, I’ll do it,” returned the other; “but it’s little I can do, God help me.”

“Nelly,” said Mave, “will you go on to the cross-roads there, an’ I’ll be with you in a minute.”

The cross-roads alluded to were only a couple of hundred yards before them.  The prophet’s wife proceeded, and Mave renewed the conversation.