They’re not done cheering yet. [_He goes over to the door and stands there for a moment, putting up his hand to shade his eyes._ BRIDGET. Do you see anything? MICHAEL. I see an old woman coming up the path. BRIDGET. Who is it, I wonder? It must be the strange woman Patrick saw a while ago. MICHAEL. I don’t think it’s one of the neighbours anyway, but she has her cloak over her face. BRIDGET. It might be some poor woman heard we were making ready for the wedding and came to look for her share. PETER. I may as well put the money out of sight. There is no use leaving it out for every stranger to look at. [_He goes over to a large box in the corner, opens it and puts the bag in and fumbles at the lock._ MICHAEL. There she is, father! [_An _Old Woman_ passes the window slowly, she looks at MICHAEL as she passes._] I’d sooner a stranger not to come to the house the night before my wedding. BRIDGET. Open the door, Michael; don’t keep the poor woman waiting. [_The OLD WOMAN comes in. MICHAEL stands aside to make way for her._ OLD WOMAN. God save all here! PETER. God save you kindly! OLD WOMAN. You have good shelter here. PETER. You are welcome to whatever shelter we have. BRIDGET. Sit down there by the fire and welcome. OLD WOMAN [_warming her hands_]. There is a hard wind outside. [_MICHAEL watches her curiously from the door. PETER comes over to the table._ PETER. Have you travelled far to-day? OLD WOMAN. I have travelled far, very far; there are few have travelled so far as myself, and there’s many a one that doesn’t make me welcome. There was one that had strong sons I thought were friends of mine, but they were shearing their sheep, and they wouldn’t listen to me. PETER. It’s a pity indeed for any person to have no place of their own. OLD WOMAN. That’s true for you indeed, and it’s long I’m on the roads since I first went wandering. BRIDGET. It is a wonder you are not worn out with so much wandering. OLD WOMAN. Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart. When the people see me quiet, they think old age has come on me and that all the stir has gone out of me. But when the trouble is on me I must be talking to my friends. BRIDGET. What was it put you wandering? OLD WOMAN. Too many strangers in the house. BRIDGET. Indeed you look as if you’d had your share of trouble. OLD WOMAN. I have had trouble indeed. BRIDGET. What was it put the trouble on you? OLD WOMAN. My land that was taken from me. PETER. Was it much land they took from you? OLD WOMAN. My four beautiful green fields. PETER [_aside to BRIDGET_]. Do you think could she be the widow Casey that was put out of her holding at Kilglass a while ago? BRIDGET. She is not. I saw the widow Casey one time at the market in Ballina, a stout fresh woman. PETER [_to OLD WOMAN_]. Did you hear a noise of cheering, and you coming up the hill? OLD WOMAN.