_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 crass--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. _Christy._ Then it all comes from the little finger getting to be the master of me; for I’m confident that when sober, I was not born to be a rogue nat’rally. Was not I honest Christy once? (_ready to cry._) Oh, I’m a great penitent! But there’s no help for it now. _Biddy._ True for you, sir. _Christy._ I’m an unfortunate cratur, and all the neighbours know it.--So, Biddy dear, I’ve nothing for it but to take another glass. _Biddy._ Oh! no, sir, not when you’ll be going up to the castle to the lady--you’ll be in no condition. _Christy._ Tut, girl--‘twill give me heart. Let’s be merry any way. [_Exit, singing,_ “They say it was care killed the cat, That starved her, and caused her to die; But I’ll be much wiser than that, For the devil a care will care I.” SCENE III. _Widow LARKEN’S Cottage._ _Widow LARKEN, MABEL, and GILBERT._ _Gilb._ And could you doubt me, Mabel, after I told you I loved you? _Mabel._ Never would nor could have doubted, had you once told me as much, Mr. Gilbert. _Widow._ There was the thing, Mr. Gilbert--you know it was you that was to speak, if you thought of her. _Gilb._ Do not you remember the rose and the shamrock? _Widow._ Oh! she does well enough; and that’s what her heart was living upon, till I killed the hope. _Gilb._ You!--killed the hope!--I thought you were my friend. _Widow._ And so I am, and was--but when you did not speak.