“There are in my hands,” observed the priest, “one hundred and twenty-two guineas of your money, Bridget. Here, Phelim, are ten for your wedding suit and wedding expenses. Go to your wedding! No! don't suppose for a moment that I countenance this transaction in the slightest degree. I comply with your wishes, because I heartily despise you both; but certainly this foolish old woman most. Give me an acknowledgment for this, Phelim.” “God bless you, sir!” said Phelim, as if he had paid them a compliment. “In regard o' the acknowledgment, sir, I acknowledge it wid all my heart; but bad luck to the scrape at all I can write.” “Well, no matter. You admit, Bridget, that I give this money to this blessed youth by your authority and consent.” “Surely, your Reverence; I'll never go back of it.” “Now, Phelim,” said the priest, “you have the money; pray get married as soon as possible.” “I'll give you my oath,” said Phelim; “an' be the blessed iron tongs in the grate there, I'll not lose a day in gettin' myself spliced. Isn't she the tendher-hearted sowl, your Reverence? Augh, Mrs. Doran!” “Leave my place,” said the priest. “I cannot forget the old proverb, that one fool makes many, but an old fool is worse than any. So it is with this old woman.” “Ould woman! Oh, thin, I'm sure I don't desarve this from your Reverence!” exclaimed the housekeeper, wiping her eyes: “if I'm a little seasoned now, you know I wasn't always so. If ever there was a faithful sarvant, I was that, an' managed your house and place as honestly as I'll manage my own, plase Goodness.” As they left the parlor, Phelim became the consoler. “Whisht, you darlin'!” he exclaimed. “Sure you'll have Bouncin' Phelim to comfort you. But now that he has shut the door, what--hem--I'd take it as a piece o' civility if you'd open my eyes a little; I mane--hem--was it--is this doin' him, or how? Are you--hem--do you undherstand me, Mrs. Doran?” “What is it you want to know, Phelim? I think everything is very plain.” “Oh, the divil a plainer, I suppose. But in the mane time, might one axe, out o' mere curiosity, if you're in airnest?” “In airnest! Arrah, what did I give you my money for, Phelim? Well, now that everything is settled, God forgive you if you make a bad husband to me.” “A bad what?” “I say, God forgive you if you make a bad husband to me. I'm afeard, Phelim, that I'll be too foolish about you--that I'll be too fond of you.” Phelim looked at her in solemn silence, and then replied--“Let us trust in God that you may be enabled to overcome the weakness. Pray to Him to avoid all folly, an' above everything, to give you a dacent stock of discration, for it's a mighty fine thing for a woman of your yea--hem--a mighty fine thing it is, indeed, for a sasoned woman, as you say you are.” “When will the weddin' take place, Phelim?” “The what?” said Phelim, opening his brisk eye with a fresh stare of dismay.