"
"Well, at any rate, Bryan," said his neighbor, "whether you go or stay,
God be wid you. It's a pity, God knows, that the like of you and your
family should leave the country; and sure if the landlord, as they say,
is angry about it, why doesn't he do what he ought to do? an' why does
he allow that smooth-tongued rap to lead him by the nose as he does?
Howandiver, as I said, whether you go or stay, Bryan, God be wid you!"
During all that morning Thomas M'Mahon had been evidently suffering very
deeply from a contemplation of the change that was about to take place
by the departure of himself and his family from Carriglass. He had been
silent the greater part of the morning, and not unfrequently forced to
give away to tears, in which he was joined by his daughters, with the
exception of Dora, who, having assumed the office of comforter, felt
herself bound to maintain the appearance of a firmness which she did
not feel. In this mood he was when "grandfather," as they called him,
entered the house, after having been made acquainted with their secret.
"Tom," said he, approaching his son, "sure you wouldn't go to bring an
ould man away?"
"Where to, father?" asked the other, a good deal alarmed.
"Why, to America, where you're all goin' to. Oh! surely you wouldn't
bring the old man away from the green fields of Carriglass? Would you
lay my white head in a strange land, an' among a strange people? Would
you take poor ould grandfather away from them that expects him down, at
Carndhu where they sleep? Carndhu's a holy churchyard.
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