CHAPTER VII.
"SHORT MARY."
When the men went home, each to his own lodging, I promise you there was a great tale to tell in every house. The neighbours came in to spend the evening. Each shoemaker gave his own version of Dermot's visit and of Shiana's answer. Each neighbour carried home with him his own way of repeating the story. There never was such fun over anything, before or since, about the place. By the time Sunday came there was not a person, old or young, in the three congregations that had not the whole story, and three times as much more added to it. You would see the people on the roads, in threes, or fours, or tens, telling the story or asking about it, and staggering on their feet with fun and laughter. Dermot was right. The whole country was making game of the pair.
Short Mary and Nora of the Causeway and the Maid of the Liss were all very thankful and well pleased in their minds at their having escaped so well. They would not have escaped but for Dermot's visit being so absurd as it was, and Dermot himself having the reputation of being so very sharp-witted.
When people had had enough of the fun about Dermot and Sive, they had another thing to discuss. All the men had heard Shiana say that he had no notion of marrying, and would not have, yet awhile. Not one of them made a change of a word in that part of the story. Short Mary heard it. Nora of the Causeway heard it. The Maid of the Liss heard it. Everybody heard it, and there was not
