She was his only child--the humble but solitary flower that blossomed for him upon the desert of life.
"I lave her wid you," he said, addressing Mrs.Burke with tears in his eyes, "as the only treasure an' happiness I have in this world.

She is the poor man's lamb, as I have hard read out of Scripture wanst; an' in lavin' her undher your care, I lave all my little hopes in this world wid her.

I trust, ma'am, you'll guard her an' look afther her as if she was one of your own." This unlucky allusion might have broken up the whole contemplated arrangement, had not Hycy stepped in to avert from Peety the offended pride of the patroness.
"I hope, Peety," he said, "that you are fully sensible of the honor Mrs.
Burke does you and your daughter by taking the girl under her protection and patronage ?" "I am, God knows." "And of the advantage it is to get her near so respectable a woman--so highly respectable a woman ?" "I am, in troth." "And that it may be the making of your daughter's fortune ?" "It may, indeed, Masther Hycy." "And that there's no other woman of high respectability in the parish capable of elevating her to the true principles of double and simple proportion ?" "No, in throth, sir, I don't think there is." "Nor that can teach her the newest theories in dogmatic theology and metaphysics, together with the whole system of Algebraic Equations if the girl should require them ?" "Divil another woman in the barony can match her at them by all accounts," replied Peety, catching the earnest enthusiasm of Hycy's manner.
"That will do, Peety; you see yourself, mother," he added, taking her aside and speaking in a low voice, "that the little fellow knows right well the advantages of having her under your care and protection; and it's very much to his credit, and speaks very highly for his metempsychosis that he does so--hem!" "He was always a daicent, sinsible, poor creature of his kind," replied his mother "besides, Hycy, between you and me, she'll be more than worth her bit." "There now, Peety," said her son, turning towards the mendicant; "it's all settled--wait now for a minute till I write a couple of notes, which you must deliver for me." Peety sat accordingly, and commenced to lay down for his daughter's guidance and conduct such instructions as he deemed suitable to the situation she was about to enter and the new duties that necessarily devolved upon her.
In due time Hycy appeared, and placing two letters in Peety's hands, said--"Go, Peety, to Gerald Cavanagh's, of Fenton's Farm, and if you can get an opportunity, slip that note into Kathleen's hands--this, mark, with the corner turned down--you won't forget that ?" "No, sir." "Very well--you're then to proceed to Tom M'Mahon's, and if you find Bryan, his son, there, give him this; and if he's at the mountain farm of Ahadarra, go to him.

I don't expect an answer from Kathleen Cavanagh, but I do from Bryan M'Mahon; and mark me, Peety." "I do, sir." "Are you sure you do ?" "Sartin, sir." "Silent as the grave then is the word in both cases--but if I ever hear--" "That's enough, Masther Hycy; when the grave spakes about it so will I." Peety took the letters and disappeared with an air rendered important by the trust reposed in him; whilst Mrs.Burke looked inquiringly at her son, as if her curiosity were a good deal excited.
"One of them is to Kate or Kathleen Cavanagh, as they call her," said Hycy, in reply to her looks; "and the other for Bryan M'Mahon, who is soft and generous--_probatum est_.

I want to know if he'll stand for thirty-five--and as for Kate, I'm making love to her, you must know." "Kathleen Cavanagh," replied his mother; "I'll never lend my privileges to sich match." "Match!" exclaimed Hycy, coolly.
"Ah," she replied warmly; "match or marriage will never--" "Marriage!" he repeated, "why, my most amiable maternal relative, do you mean to insinuate to Hycy the accomplished, that he is obliged to propose either match or marriage to every girl he makes love to?
What a prosaic world you'd have of it, my dear Mrs.Burke.This, ma'am, is only an agreeable flirtation--not but that it's possible there may be something in the shape of a noose matrimonial dangling in the background.