“’Deed I don’t know,” said Anty, shutting the door; “but they’ll hear just as well now av’ they wish, for they’ll come to the kay-hole.”

“Will they, by G——!” said Barry, and he rushed to the door, which he banged open; finding no victim outside on whom to exercise his wrath—­“let me catch ’em!” and he returned to his position by the fire.

Anty had sat down on a sofa that stood by the wall opposite the fireplace, and Barry remained for a minute, thinking how he’d open the campaign.  At last he began: 

“Anty, look you here, now.  What scheme have you got in your head?—­You’d better let me know, at once.”

“What schame, Barry?”

“Well—­what schame, if you like that better.”

“I’ve no schame in my head, that I know of—­at laist—­” and then Anty blushed.  It would evidently be easy enough to make the poor girl tell her own secret.

“Well, go on—­at laist—­”

“I don’t know what you mane, Barry.  Av’ you’re going to be badgering me again, I’ll go away.”

“It’s evident you’re going to do something you’re ashamed of, when you’re afraid to sit still, and answer a common question.  But you must answer me.  I’m your brother, and have a right to know.  What’s this you’re going to do?’ He didn’t like to ask her at once whether she was going to get married.  It might not be true, and then he would only be putting the idea into her head.  ’Well,—­why don’t you answer me?  What is it you’re going to do?”

“Is it about the property you mane, Barry?”

“What a d——­d hypocrite you are!  As if you didn’t know what I mean!  As for the property, I tell you there’ll be little left the way you’re going on.  And as to that, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do; so, mind, I warn you beforehand.  You’re not able—­that is, you’re too foolish and weak-headed to manage it yourself; and I mean, as your guardian, to put it into the hands of those that shall manage it for you.  I’m not going to see you robbed and duped, and myself destroyed by such fellows as Moylan, and a crew of huxtering blackguards down in Dunmore.  And now, tell me at once, what’s this I hear about you and the Kellys?”

“What Kellys?” said Anty, blushing deeply, and half beside herself with fear—­for Barry’s face was very red, and full of fierce anger, and his rough words frightened her.

“What Kellys!  Did you ever hear of Martin Kelly? d——­d young robber that he is!” Anty blushed still deeper—­rose a little way from the sofa, and then sat down again.  “Look you here, Anty—­I’ll have the truth out of you.  I’m not going to be bamboozled by such an idiot as you.  You got an old man, when he was dying, to make a will that has robbed me of what was my own, and now you think you’ll play your own low game; but you’re mistaken!  You’ve lived long enough without a husband to do without one now; and I can tell you I’m not going to see my property carried off by such a low, paltry blackguard as Martin Kelly.”