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."