Phelim, on finding that he could neither extort from Peggy an
acknowledgment of love, nor make himself credible upon the subject
of the large fortune, saw that he had nothing for it now, in order to
produce an impression, but the pathetic.
"Well," said he, "you may lave me, Peggy achora, if you like; but out o'
this I'll not budge, wid a blessing, till I cry my skinful, so I won't.
Saize the toe I'll move, now, till I'm sick wid cryin'! Oh, murdher
alive, this night! Isn't it a poor case entirely, that the girl I'd
suffer myself to be turned inside out for, won't say that she cares
about a hair o' my head! Oh, thin, but I'm the misfortunate blackguard
all out! Och, oh! Peggy, achora, you'll break my heart! Hand me that
shell, acushla--for I'm in the height of affliction!"
Peggy could neither withhold it, nor reply to him. Her mirth was even
more intense now than before; nor, if all were known, was Phelim less
affected with secret laughter than Peggy.
"It is makin' fun o' me you are, you thief, eh?--Is it laughin' at my
grief you are?" exclaimed Phelim. "Be the tarn' o' wor, I'll punish you
for that."
Peggy attempted to escape, but Phelim succeeded, ere she went, in taking
a salutation or two, after which both joined those who sat at the fire,
and in a few minutes Sam Appleton entered.
Much serious conversation had already passed in reference to the
courtship, which was finally entered into and debated, pro and con.
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