This tempting prospect was too much for Roseen. She whisked round again so rapidly that she overturned a pan of cream; her cheeks were flaming, her eyes flashing with anger.
"I'll be thankin' ye not to talk to me that way, grandfather," she cried. "I declare it's enough to vex a saint! I won't have Mr. Quinn, an' wouldn't if he gave me a carpet of gould to walk upon. That's me answer, an' he needn't be waitin' for me, for I won't have him."
"Ye'll be bringin' me white hairs with sorrow to the grave, the same as your father," he remarked, oblivious of the fact that the poor fellow in question had only succeeded in laying low his own curly black ones. "I declare me heart's broke. Ye had a right to have a bit more consideration for me, Roseen, after all I done for ye. Did I ever give ye a cross word, now, since you come here?"
Roseen opened her eyes a little blankly, stricken with sudden remorse. It was true her grandfather had ever treated her kindly since she had come to Monavoe, and indeed, after a certain queer fashion, the two had grown to be rather fond of each other.
"Haven't I always given you everything you wanted?" pursued Peter, in a querulous tone; "everything in reason, anyhow. Look at the beautiful blue tabinet dress I gave you--sure there isn't the like in the place--and the new hat ye have, an' kid gloves an' all! Sure, I never deny you anything! An' you up an' give me them disrespectful answers, an' refuse to do the only thing I ever axed ye!"
Tears were actually twinkling in the old man's narrow eyes, so much aggrieved did he feel himself to be. Roseen began to cry too. "It's me that has me heart broke," she sobbed. "How can I go marryin' Mr. Quinn wid his ugly red face, an' him an ould widower an' cross-eyed into the bargain? Sure, if it was anything else now--" A burst of woe interrupted her utterance.
"Me child," said Peter impressively, "I know more what's for your good nor you do yourself; but don't distress yourself too much, alanna: Mr. Quinn says he does not mind waitin' as long as you like, so we'll say no more about it for a while."
Peter prevented further lamentations by assuring her, with various affectionate pats on the arm, that he knew she would never go annoyin' her poor ould grandfather, but they'd say no more about it, for a bit anyhow. He withdrew, leaving Roseen still sobbing amid the fragments of a broken milk-pan, and perhaps the ruins of a castle in the air.