r very much!" cried Mademoiselle, dismayed at what
seemed to her prudent mind such a fatal way of preparing for a
difficulty. "The kind thing surely would be to prepare them for what
will come. It will make it more hard if they have never known work. In
three years one can do much to prepare for a struggle. Why do you not
speak to your sister, and say it is time to stop play? Why do you not
send her away to work, and then perhaps the bad day need never come
after all?"

Bridgie looked surprised, almost shocked at the suggestion. The easy-
going Irish nature saw things in a different light from that taken by
the thrifty Frenchwoman; moreover, the idea of girls working for
themselves was still viewed as decidedly _infra dig_ by the old-
fashioned inhabitants of Bally William. She gasped at the thought of
her father's wrath at such a suggestion, then laughed at the idea of
Esmeralda's earnings being large enough to stave off the coming ruin.

"I'm afraid it would be taking more than that to prevent it, Therese!
You don't know the state our landlords are in over here. There's no
money to be got at all, and things go from bad to worse. Until mother
died I didn't know how poor we were, and at first I wore myself to
pieces saving pennies here and halfpennies there; but there's not much
fun in saving twopence when nothing less than thousands of pounds would
do any good. I grew tired of it, and says I to myself, `A short life,
and a merry one!' If I can't help, I'll just put the thought from my
mind, and give the young ones a good time to remember. No use troubling
the creatures before it's necessary!"

Mademoiselle grunted in eloquent disapproval, and wished to know whether
the master of the house had been equally philosophical.

"Is it the Major?" cried Bridgie, laughing. "He never troubles himself
about anything, and he has it all fitted up like a puzzle. Esmeralda is
to marry a duke, Jack a countess in her own right, and meself a
millionaire manufacturer, who will be so flattered at marrying an
O'Shaughnessy that he will be proud to house Pixie into the bargain.
Pat and Miles are to go to London to seek their fortunes, and the Castle
is to be let--to Jack and his wife by preference, but, failing them, to
anyone who offers, when the Major can keep himself and his hunters on
the rental without a `Thank you' to anyone. It works out so beautifully
when you hear him talk, that it seems folly to trouble oneself