My father thinks I can turn you round my finger, and Bryan M'Mahon thinks--yes, I'm goin'," she answered again.
"Well, keep up your spirits; I'll soon have news for you about this spoiled priest." "Poor Hanna," thought Kathleen; "where was there ever such a sister?
She does all she can to keep my spirits up; but it can't be.

How can I see him ruined and beggared, that had the high spirit and the true heart ?" Hanna, her father, and mother, held a tolerably long discussion together, in which Kathleen could only hear the tones of their voices occasionally.

It was evident, however, by the emphatic intonations of the old couple, that they were urging some certain point, which her faithful sister was deprecating, sometimes, as Kathleen could learn, by seriousness, and at other times by mirth.

At length she returned with a countenance combating between seriousness and jest; the seriousness, however, predominating.
"Kathleen," said she, "you never had a difficulty before you until now.
They haven't left me a leg to stand upon.

Honest Jemmy never had any wish to make Edward a priest, and he tells my father that it was all a trick of the wife to get everything for her favorite; and he's now determined to disappoint them.