“A trifle,--and a mistake; the kind of thing that two men of calm heads and common sense could have settled in five minutes, and which, to say the truth, Martin was right in throughout. It's all passed and over now, however, and it would be worse than foolish to revive it. There 's Miss Martin!” cried he, “and I have a word to say to her;” and hurried off without waiting for more. As he passed from the room, however, a letter fell from his pocket; and as Nelligan stooped to take it up, he saw that it was addressed to himself. He looked hesitatingly at it for a moment or two, scarcely knowing whether or not he ought to break the seal. “It was meant for me, at all events,” said he, and opened it. The contents were as follows;-- “Mr. Martin presents his respects to Mr. Joseph Nelligan, and will feel happy if--excusing the want of formal introduction--Mr. Nelligan will admit him to the honor of acquaintance, and give him the pleasure of his society at dinner, to-morrow, at seven o'clock. Mr. Martin does not hesitate to say that to accept this unceremonious proposal will be felt as a very great favor indeed by him and his family.” “What does Scanlan mean by all this? Why not have handed me this note at once?” was Nelligan's question to himself, as he descended the stairs and gained the street. He was not sorry that Scanlan was not in sight, and hastened homeward to think over this strange communication. Joe well knew that his mother was not peculiarly endowed with worldly wisdom or acuteness; and yet such was his need of counsel at the moment, that he determined, at least in part, to lay the case before her. “She can certainly tell me,” said he, “if there be any reason why I should decline this proposal.” And with this resolve he entered the cottage. “Don't you remember Catty Henderson, Joe?” said his mother, as he came into the room, and presenting a young girl, very plainly but neatly dressed, who arose to receive him with an air of well-bred composure,--“Catty, that used to be your playfellow long ago?” “I didn't know you were in Ireland, Miss Henderson. I should never have recognized you,” said Nelligan, in some confusion. “Nor was I till a few days back,” said she, in an accent very slightly tinged with a foreign pronunciation. “I came home on Tuesday.” “Isn't she grown, joe? and such a fine girl, too. I always said she 'd be so; and when the others would have it that your nose was too long for the rest of your features, I said, 'Wait till she grows up,--wait till she 's a woman;' and see now if I 'm not right.”