He first proposed to her to go and live in Dublin, but she said she
preferred Dunmore. He then talked of selling the house, and to this she
agreed. He next tried to borrow money for the payment of his debts; on
which she referred him to the steady old man. Though apparently docile
and obedient, she would not put herself in his hands, nor would her
agent allow him to take any unfair advantage of her.

Whilst this was going on, our friend Martin Kelly had set his eye upon
the prize, and, by means of his sister's intimacy with Anty, and his
own good looks, had succeeded in obtaining from her half a promise to
become his wife. Anty had but little innate respect for gentry; and,
though she feared her brother's displeasure, she felt no degradation at
the idea of uniting herself to a man in Martin Kelly's rank. She could
not, however, be brought to tell her brother openly, and declare her
determination; and Martin had, at length, come to the conclusion that
he must carry her off, before delay and unforeseen changes might either
alter her mind, or enable her brother to entice her out of the country.

Thus matters stood at Dunmore when Martin Kelly started for Dublin, and
at the time when he was about to wait on his patron at Morrison's
hotel.

Both Martin and Lord Ballindine (and they were related in some distant
degree, at least so always said the Kellys, and I never knew that the
O'Kellys denied it)--both the young men were, at the time, anxious to
get married, and both with the same somewhat mercenary views; and I
have fatigued the reader with the long history of past affairs, in
order to imbue him, if possible, with some interest in the ways and
means which they both adopted to accomplish their objects.