now?" and he succeeded
in dragging her on to the sofa.

The man-servant and the cook although up to this point, they had
considered it would be ill manners to interrupt the brother and sister
in their family interview, were nevertheless at the door; and though
they could see nothing, and did not succeed in hearing much, were not
the less fully aware that the conversation was of a somewhat stormy
nature on the part of the brother. When they heard the noise which
followed the blow, though not exactly knowing what had happened, they
became frightened, and began to think something terrible was being
done.

"Go in, Terry, avich," whispered the woman,--"Knock, man, and go
in--shure he's murdhering her!"

"What 'ud he do to me thin, av' he'd strick a woman, and she his own
flesh and blood! He'll not murdher her--but, faix, he's afther doing
something now! Knock, Biddy, knock, I say, and screech out that you're
afther wanting Miss Anty."

The woman had more courage than the man--or else more compassion, for,
without further parleying, she rapped her knuckles loudly against the
door, and, as she did so, Terry sneaked away to the kitchen.

Barry had just succeeded in raising his sister to the sofa as he heard
the knock.

"Who's that?" he called out loudly; "what do you want?"

"Plaze yer honer, Miss Anty's wanting in the kitchen."

"She's busy, and can't come at present; she'll be there directly."

"Is she ill at all, Mr. Barry? God bless you, spake, Miss Anty; in
God's name, spake thin. Ah! Mr. Barry, thin, shure she'd spake av' she
were able."

"Go away, you fool! Your mistress'll be out in a minute." Then, after a
moment's consideration, he went and unlocked the door, "or--go in, and
see what she wants. She's fainted, I think."

Barry Lynch walked out of the room, and into the garden before the
house, to think over what he had done, and what he'd better do for the
future, leaving Anty to the care of the frightened woman.

She soon came to herself, and, excepting that her head was bruised
in the fall, was not much hurt. The blow, falling on her hands, had
neither cut nor marked her; but she was for a long time so flurried
that she did not know where she was, and, in answer to all Biddy's
tender inquiries as to the cause of her fall, and anathemas as to the
master's bad temper, merely said that "she'd get to bed, for her head
ached so, she didn't know where she was."

To bed accordingly she went; and glad she wa