On discovering where he was, the good father was disposed to flinch, and get down stairs, in tenderness to his 'character,' and thinking what a story 'them villians o' the world'id make iv it down at the club there.' But on second thoughts, poor little Sally being neither young nor comely, he ventured, and sat down by the bed, veiled behind a strip of curtain, and poured his mellifluous consolations into her open ears.
And poor Sally became eloquent in return.

And Father Roach dried his eyes, although she could not see him behind the curtain, and called her 'my daughter,' and 'dear lady,' and tendered such comforts as his housekeeping afforded.

'Had she bacon in the house ?' or 'maybe she'd like a fat fowl ?' 'She could not eat ?' 'Why then she could make elegant broth of it, and dhrink it, an' he'd keep another fattenin' until Nutter himself come back.' 'And then, my honey, you an' himself'll come down and dine wid ould Father Austin; an' we'll have a grand evenin' of it entirely, laughin' over the remimbrance iv these blackguard troubles, acuishla! Or maybe you'd accept iv a couple o' bottles of claret or canaries?
I see--you don't want for wine.' So there was just one more offer the honest fellow had to make, and he opened with assurances 'twas only between himself an' her--an' not a sowl on airth 'id ever hear a word about it--and he asked her pardon, but he thought she might chance to want a guinea or two, just till Nutter came back, and he brought a couple in his waistcoat pocket.
Poor Father Roach was hard-up just then.

Indeed, the being hard-up was a chronic affection with him.

Two horses were not to be kept for nothing.
Nor for the same moderate figure was it possible to maintain an asylum for unfortunates and outlaws--pleasant fellows enough, but endowed with great appetites and an unquenchable taste for consolation in fluid forms.
A clerical provision in Father Roach's day, and church, was not by any means what we have seen it since.