Chapter 29

_Widow LARKEN’S Cottage._

_Widow LARKEN, MABEL, and GILBERT._

_Gilb._ And could you doubt me, Mabel, after I told you I loved you?

_Mabel._ Never would nor could have doubted, had you once told me as much, Mr. Gilbert.

_Widow._ There was the thing, Mr. Gilbert--you know it was you that was to speak, if you thought of her.

_Gilb._ Do not you remember the rose and the shamrock?

_Widow._ Oh! she does well enough; and that’s what her heart was living upon, till I killed the hope.

_Gilb._ You!--killed the hope!--I thought you were my friend.

_Widow._ And so I am, and was--but when you did not speak.

_Gilb._ If I had not loved her so well, I might have been able, perhaps, to have said more.

_Widow._ Then that’s enough. Mabel mavourneen, wear the rose he give you now--I’ll let you--and see it’s fresh enough. She put it in water--oh! she had hope still!

_Mabel._ And was not I right to trust him, mother?

_Gilb._ Mabel, if I don’t do my best to make you happy all my days, I deserve to be--that’s all! But I’m going to tell you about the new inn: that’s what I have been about ever since, and I’m to have it for sixty guineas.

_Enter OWEN, rubbing his hands._

_Owen._ You see, mother, I was right about Gilbert and Mabel. But Mr. Hope and the band is gone up to the castle. Come, come!--time to be off!--no delay!--Gilbert! Mabel, off with you! (_He pushes them off._) And glad enough ye are to go together. Mother dear, here’s your bonnet and the cloak,--here round ye throw--that’s it--take my arm. (_Widow stumbles as he pulls her on._) Oh, I’m putting you past your speed, mother.

_Widow._ No, no.--No fear in life for the mother that has the support of such a son.