ter she was
writing, 'when this affair was first started mamma was afraid to go in
for it; she said we'd find it hard to hunt up fifty spinsters in
Galway.'

'I said fifty who would subscribe--a very different thing indeed.'

'Oh no, you didn't, mamma; you said there weren't fifty spinsters in
Galway--a jolly lucky thing it would be if there weren't; wouldn't it,
Alice?'

Alice was busy trying to disentangle a difficult sentence. Her startled
face made May laugh.

'It isn't cheering, is it?'

'I didn't hear what you were saying,' she answered, a little vexed at
being misunderstood. 'But fifty, surely, is a great number. Are there so
many unmarried women in Galway?'

'I should think there are,' replied May, as if glorying in the fact.
'Who are there down your side of the country? Let's count. To begin
with, there are the Brennans--there are three of them, and all three are
out of the running, distanced.'

'Now, May, how can you talk like that?' said Mrs. Gould, and she pulled
up her skirt so that she could roast her fat thick legs more comfortably
before the fire. There being no man present, she undid a button or two
of her dress.

'You said so yourself the other day, mother.'

'No, I didn't, May, and I wish you wouldn't vex me. What I say I stand
by, and I merely wondered why girls with good fortunes like the Brennans
didn't get married.'

'You said the fact was there was no one to marry.'

'May, I will not allow you to contradict me!' exclaimed Mrs. Gould; and
she grew purple to the roots of her white hair. 'I said the Brennans
looked too high, that they wanted gentlemen, eldest sons of county
families; but if they'd been content to marry in their own position of
life they would have been married long ago.'

'Well, mother dear, there's no use being angry about it; let the thing
pass. You know the Brennans, Alice; they are neighbours of yours.'

'Yes, Cecilia and I walked over to see them the other day; we had tea
with them.'

'Their great hunting-ground is the Shelbourne Hotel--they take it in
turns, a couple of them go up every six months.'

'How can you say such things, May? I will not suffer it.'

'I say it! I know nothing about it. I've only just come back from school;
it is you who tell me these things when we are sitting here alone of an
evening.'

Mrs. Gould's face again became purple, and she protested vehemently: 'I
shall leave the room, May. I will not suffer it one moment longer. I
ca