wife and great economist as you could see, and he the best of husbands,
as to looking into his affairs, and making money for his family; yet I
don't know how it was, they had a great deal of sparring and jarring
between them. My lady had her privy purse--and she had her weed
ashes,[L] and her sealing money[M] upon the signing of all the leases,
with something to buy gloves besides; and, besides, again often took
money from the tenants, if offered properly, to speak for them to Sir
Murtagh about abatements and renewals. Now the weed ashes and the glove
money he allowed her clear perquisites; though once when he saw her in a
new gown saved out of the weed ashes, he told her to my face (for he
could say a sharp thing), that she should not put on her weeds before
her husband's death. But in a dispute about an abatement, my lady would
have the last word, and Sir Murtagh grew mad;[N] I was within hearing of
the door, and now I wish I had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud,
the whole kitchen was out on the stairs.[O] All on a sudden he stopped
and my lady too. Something has surely happened, thought I--and so it
was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a blood-vessel, and all the
law in the land could do nothing in that case. My lady sent for five
physicians, but Sir Murtagh died, and was buried. She had a fine
jointure settled upon her, and took herself away to the great joy of the
tenantry. I never said any thing one way or the other, whilst she was
part of the family, but got up to see her go at three o'clock in the
morning. "It's a fine morning, honest Thady," says she; "good bye to
ye," and into the carriage she stepped, without a word more, good or
bad, or even half-a-crown; but I made my bow, and stood to see her safe
out of sight for the sake of the family.

Then we were all bustle in the house, which made me keep out of the way,
for I walk slow and hate a bustle; but the house was all hurry-skurry,
preparing for my new master. Sir Murtagh, I forgot to notice, had no