as singing _A che la morte_.

'The Land League doesn't seem to affect Mr. Barton's spirits,' said
Violet. 'What a beautiful voice he has!'

'Yes, and nobody designs pictures like papa; but he wouldn't study when
he was young, and he says he hasn't time now on account of--'

'Now, Alice, for goodness' sake don't begin. I am sick of that Land
League. From morning till night it is nothing but coercion and
Griffith's valuation.'

Violet and Alice laughed at Olive's petulance, and, opening a door, the
latter said:

'This is our room, and it is the only one in the house where tenants,
land, and rent are never spoken of.'

'That's something to know,' said Violet. 'I agree with Olive. If things
are bad, talking of them won't make them any better.'

Barnes rose from her seat.

'Now don't go, Barnes. Violet, this is Barnes, our maid.'

There was about Barnes a false air of homeliness; but in a few moments
it became apparent that her life had been spent amid muslins,
confidences, and illicit conversations. Now, with motherly care she
removed a tulle skirt from the table, and Violet, with quick, nervous
glances, examined the room. In the middle of the floor stood the large
work-table, covered with a red cloth. There was a stand with shelves,
filled on one side with railway novels, on the other with worsted work,
cardboard-boxes, and rags of all kinds. A canary-cage stood on the top,
and the conversation was frequently interrupted by the piercing trilling
of the little yellow bird.

'You're very comfortable. I should like to come and work here with you.
I am sick of Fred's perpetual talk about horses; and if he isn't talking
of them his conversation is so improper that I can't listen to it.'

'Why, what does he say?' said Olive, glancing at Barnes, who smiled
benignly in the background.

'Oh, I couldn't repeat what he says! it's too dreadful. I have to fly
from him. But he's always at the Goulds' now; he and May are having a
great "case".'

'Oh yes, I know!' said Olive; 'they never left each other at our ball.
Don't you remember?'

'Of course I do. And what a jolly ball that was! I never amused myself
so much in my life. If the balls at the Castle are as good, they will
do. But wasn't it sad, you know, about poor Lord Kilcarney receiving the
news of his brother's murder just at that moment? I can see him now,
rushing out of the room.'

Violet's manner did not betoken in the least that she thought it sad,
and afte