_Christy._ Major, you can't but drink her health for that compliment.

[_He presents a gla.s.s of punch to Mr. HOPE._

_Mr. H._ Miss Gallagher's health, and a gude husband to her, and _soon_.

_Miss G._ And soon!--No hurry for them that has choice.

_Christy._ That has money, you mane, jewel. Mr. Gilbert, you did not give us your toast.

_Gilb._ Your good health, ma'am--your good health, sir,--Mr. Hope, your good health, and your fireside in Scotland, and in pa'tic'lar your good wife.

_Miss G._ (_starting_) Your wife, sir! Why, sir, is't possible you're a married man, after all?

_Mr. H._ Very possible, ma'am--thank Heaven and my gude Kate.

_Miss G._ _His gude Kate_!--Well, I hate the Scotch accent of all languages under the sun.

_Christy._ In a married man, I suppose you _mane_, Florry?

_Miss G._ This is the way with officers continually--pa.s.sing themselves for bachelors.

_Christy._ Then, Florry, we'd best recommend it to the drum-major the next town he'd go into, to put up an advertis.e.m.e.nt in capitals on his cap, warning all women whom it may consarn, that he is a married man.

_Miss G._ 'Tis no consarn of mine, I'll a.s.sure you, sir, at any rate; for I should scorn to think of a Scotchman any way. And what's a drum-major, after all? [_Exit, in a pa.s.sion._

_Christy._ Bo boo! bo boo! bo boo! there's a tantarara now; but never mind her, she takes them tantarums by turns. Now depend upon it, Mr.

Gilbert, it's love that's at the bottom of it all, clane and clear.

_Gilb._ It's very like, sir--I can't say.

_Christy._ Oh, but I _can_ say--I know her, egg and bird. The thing is, she's mad with you, and that has set her all through other.--But we'll finish our tumbler of punch. [_Draws forwards the table, and sets chairs._

_Gilb._ (_aside_) Egg and bird!--mad! All through other!--Confound me if I understand one word the man is saying; but I will make him understand me, if he can understand plain English.

_Mr. H._ (_aside_) I'll stand by and see fair play. I have my own thought.

_Gilb._ Now, Mr. ----, to be plain with you at once--here's fifty guineas in gold, and if you will take them, and give me up the promise you have got of the new inn, you shall be welcome. That's all I have to say, if I was to talk till Christmas--and fewest words is best in matters of business.

_Christy._ Fifty guineas in gold!--Don't part with a guinea of them, man, put 'em up again. You shall have the new inn without a word more, and into the bargain my good-will and my daughter--and you're a jantleman, and can't say _no_ to that, any way.

_Gilb._ Yes, but I can though: since you drive me to the wall, I must say no, and I do say no. And, dang it, I would have been hanged almost as soon as say so much to a father. I beg your pardon, sir, but my heart is given to another. Good evening to you.

_Christy._ (_holding him as he attempts to go_) Take it coolly, and listen to me, and tell me--was you ever married before, Mr. Gilbert?

_Gilb._ Never.

_Christy._ Then I was--and I can tell you that I found to my cost, love was all in all with me before I was married, and after I had been married a twel'-month, money was all in all with me; for I had the wife, and I had not the money, and without the money, the wife must have starved.

_Gilb._ But I can work, sir, and will, head, hands, and heart, for the woman I love.

_Christy._ Asy said--hard done. Mabel Larken is a very pretty girl. But wait till I tell you what Kit Monaghan said to me yesterday. I'm going to be married, sir, says he to me. Ay, so you mintioned to me a fortnight ago, Kit, says I--to Rose Dermod, isn't it? says I. Not at all, sir, says he--it is to Peggy McGrath, this time. And what quarrel had you to Rose Dermod? says I. None in life, sir, says he; but Peggy McGrath had two cows, and Rose Dermod had but the one, and in my mind there is not the differ of a cow betwix' one woman and another. Do you understand me now, Mr. Gilbert?

_Gilb._ Sir, we shall never understand one another--pray let me go, before I get into a pa.s.sion.

[_Breaks from CHRISTY, and exit._

_Christy._ Hollo! Hollo! Mr. Gilbert! (_GILBERT returns._) One word more about the new inn. I've done about Florry; and, upon my conscience, I believe you're right enough--only that I'm her father, and in duty bound to push her as well as I can.

_Gilb._ Well, sir, about the inn: be at a word with me; for I'm not in a humour to be trifled with.

_Mr. H._ (_aside_) Fire beneath snow! who'd ha' thought it?

_Christy._ Then, if it was sixty guineas instead of fifty, I'd take it, and you should have my bargain of the inn.

_Mr. H._ (_aside_) I'll not say my word until I see what the bottom of the men are.

_Gilb._ (_aside_) Why, to make up sixty, I must sell my watch even; but I'll do it--any thing to please Mabel. (_Aloud_) Well, sixty guineas, if you won't give it for less.

_Christy._ Done! (_Eagerly._)

_Mr. H._ Stay, stay, Mr. Gilbert! Have a care, Mr. Gallagher!--the lady might not be well pleased at your handing over her written promise, Mr. Gallagher--wait a wee bit. Don't conclude this bargain till you are before the lady at the castle.

_Gilb._ So best--no doubt.

_Christy._ All one to me--so I pocket the sixty.

_Mr. H._ (_aside to GILBERT_) Come off.

_Gilb._ We shall meet then at the castle to-night: till then, a good day to you, Mr. Gallagher.

[_Exeunt GILBERT and Mr. HOPE._

_Christy._ Good night to ye kindly, gentlemen. There's a fool to love for you now! If I'd ax'd a hundred, I'd ha' got it. But still there's only one thing. Ferrinafad will go mad when she learns I have sold the new inn, and she to live on in this hole, and no place for the piano. I hope Biddy did not hear a sentence of it. (_Calls_) Biddy! Biddy Doyle!

Biddy, can't ye?

_Enter Biddy._

_Biddy._ What is it?

_Christy._ Did you hear any thing? Oh, I see ye did by your eyes. Now, hark'ee, my good girl: don't mention a sentence to Ferrinafad of my settling the new inn, till the bargain's complate, and money in both pockets--you hear.

_Biddy._ I do, sir. But I did not hear afore.

_Christy._ Becaase, she, though she's my daughter, she's cra.s.s--I'll empty my mind to you, Biddy.

_Biddy._ (_aside_) He has taken enough to like to be talking to poor Biddy.

_Christy._ Afore Florry was set up on her high horse by that little independency her doting grandmother left her, and until she got her head turned with that Ferrinafad edication, this Florry was a good girl enough. But now what is she?--Given over to vanities of all sorts, and no comfort in life to me, or use at all--not like a daughter at all, nor mistress of the house neither, nor likely to be well married neither, or a credit to me that way! And saucy to me on account of that money of hers I liquidated unknown'st.

_Biddy._ True for ye, sir.