Observing that she was approaching the hall-door with the evident purpose of knocking, and feeling satisfied that her business could be with none of the family except Harry, he resolved to have some conversation with her, in order, if possible, to get a glimpse of its purport.

Not, indeed, that he entertained any expectation of such a result, because he knew the craft and secrecy of the woman he had to deal with; but, at all events, he thought that he might still glean something significant even by her equivocations, if not by her very silence.

He accordingly turned, over and met her.
"Well, Caterine, won't this be a fine night when the moon and stars comes out to show you the road home again afther you manage the affair you're bent on ?" "Why, what am I bent on ?" she replied, sharply.
"Why, to build a church to-night, wid the assistance of Mr.Harry Woodward." "Talk with respect of your masther's stepson," she replied, indignantly.
"And my sweet misthress's son," returned Barney, significantly.
"Why, Caterine, I hope you won't lift me till I fall.

What did I say disrespectful of him?
Faith, I only know that the wondher is how such a devil's scald could have so good and kind-hearted a son," he added, disentangling himself from her suspicions, knowing perfectly well, as he did, that any unfavorable expression he might utter against that vindictive gentleman would most assuredly be communicated to him with comments much stronger than the text.

This would only throw him out of Harry's confidence, and deprive him of those opportunities of probably learning, from their casual conversation, some tendency of his mysterious movements, especially at night; for that he was enveloped in mystery--was a fact of which he felt no doubt whatsoever.