attractive in the light of a
dark December morning, aided by one flickering candle upon the dressing-
table. The tapestry was worn into holes, the carpet was threadbare, and
the silk curtains had faded to a dull grey hue. The general aspect was
so grim and dull, both within the room and outside in the wind-swept
park, that the sun-loving Mademoiselle made all speed she could to get
downstairs to the cheering influences of breakfast and fire. The sound
of voices guided her when she reached the ground floor, and she entered
a room on the right of the hall, hoping to see the family already
assembled to meet her.

What a disappointment! Not one welcoming face did she see, not a sign
of breakfast upon the table, and but a flicker of light on the huge
grate, before which knelt one untidy maid, while another stopped short
in her dusting operations to stare at the new-comer with unconcealed
amazement.

"Was this perhaps not the room where breakfast was held?" Mademoiselle
inquired politely, but it appeared that this was the room. And she had
understood Miss O'Shaughnessy to say that the hour was eight o'clock.
Had she been mistaken in her impression?

Molly laughed, and shook her duster in the air, so that the atoms which
she had swept together were instantly dispersed afresh.

"'Deed, you were right enough. The hour is eight, but you'll be in fine
time if you're down by nine," she replied encouragingly; and poor
Mademoiselle felt her heart sink at the thought of the weary hour which
stretched between her and the longed-for meal. Nothing solid to eat
since one o'clock yesterday, and now to have to sit shivering and
watching the provisions slowly taking their place on the table, deterred
by politeness from helping herself to as much as a slice of bread. She
felt intensely sorry for herself, but, after all, the prospect was the
worst part of the business, for the kindness of the Irish heart came to
her rescue, and while Molly blew at the fire with a pair of huge leather
bellows, her companion scuttled upstairs into the room where Bridgie lay
sweetly sleeping, to bring her out of bed with a bound with the
information that the "foreign lady was in her clothes, and after
inquiring for her breakfast."

In an incredibly short space of time Bridgie appeared downstairs, and as
she broke into vehement apologies, Mademoiselle had an opportunity of
studying her face, and came to the conclusion that the little sister
had, if