Through the kitchen window he saw the strong light of the
blazing fire and heard, ere he presented himself, the loud hearty laugh
of his friend's wife, precisely as light and animated as it had been
fifteen years before.
Owen lifted the latch and entered, with that fluttering of the pulse
which every man feels on meeting with a friend, after an interval of
many years.
"Musha, good people, can ye tell me is Frank Farrell at home?"
"Why, thin, he's not jist widin now, but he'll be here in no time
entirely," replied one of his daughters. "Won't you sit down, honest
man, an' we'll sind for him."
"I'm thankful to you," said Owen. "I'll sit, sure enough, till he comes
in."
"Why thin!--eh! it must--it can be no other!" exclaimed Farrell's wife,
bringing! over a candle and looking Owen earnestly in the face; "sure
I'd know that voice all the world over! Why, thin, marciful
Father--Owen M'Carthy,--Owen M'Carthy, is it your four quarthers that's
livin' an' well? Queen o' heaven, Owen M'Carthy darlin', you're
welcome!" the word was here interrupted by a hearty kiss from the kind
housewife;--welcome a thousand an' a thousand times! _Vick ne hoiah!_
Owen dear, an' are you livin' at all? An' Kathleen, Owen, an' the
childhre, an' all of yez--an' how are they?"
"Throth, we're livin' an' well, Bridget; never was betther, thanks be to
God an' you, in our lives.
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