They then enjoyed a neat and comfortable breakfast, which indeed neither of them seemed in a hurry to bring to an end. The old man was constrained and silent, and left all the talk to Winny, who, it must be admitted, never felt it more difficult to furnish conversation. Old Ned looked at her once or twice intently, as if wondering at her being much finer than usual; and then he looked at the breakfast gear; and the expression of his face was as if he suspected something. These looks, both at herself and the table, did not escape Winny's notice, but she never met them, always interrupting any exclamation which was likely to follow them with some question or remark of her own, such as, "Do you like that cake, father?" "That is the muil cow's butter; I always keep her milk by itself, and churn it in the small chum for you, father; you said you liked it." "Here, Bully-dhu, is a piece of cake for you." With some such heterogeneous questions or remarks as these, she managed to parry his looks, or at all events the observations which were likely to follow them, and direct for the moment--ah, Winny, it was only for the moment!--his thoughts from whatever was upon them, and which Winny believed she knew right well. But this suspense on both sides must come to an end. Old Ned, from his conversation with Mick Murdock, had determined not to speak to his daughter until he knew Tom had done so. But Winny did not know this, and dreaded every moment a thunder-clap would come which she was herself preparing for her father, and she was anxious, if it was only for the sake of propriety, to tell her story unprovoked. The old man now stood up from the table, saying he would be likely to be out all day, as he was preparing to get down some wheat. But Winny, when it came to the point, could only stammer out in a feeble voice, that she wanted to speak to him before he went. "Now's your time, Winny dear, for I have a great dale to do before dinner-time; an' I must be off to the men." "Father dear, I may as well tell you at once--I'm in trouble--about --about--about--Tom--Murdock." And she threw her arms round his neck, and laid her cheek upon his shoulder. "An' is that all, mavourneen? Ah, Winny, Winny, I knew it would come to this!--mavourneen macree, I knew it would. But there, Winny jewel, don't be crying--don't be crying; sure you know I'm not the man to cross your wishes; no--no, my own girl, I'd neither oppose you nor force you for 'the world; aren't you the only one I have on airth? an' sure isn't your happiness mine, Winny dear? There, Winny, don't cry; sure you may do as you like, mavourneen macree, you may." Winny knew that all this was uttered under a misconception, and it gave her but little comfort. There was {73} _one_ part of it, however, she would not forget. "Oh, father," she sobbed out upon his breast, "Tom Murdock has asked me to marry him." And the tears rolled down her cheeks.