I don't know that I shall. I shall take a day to consider of
it I think."

"Consideration be bothered," said Mollett junior; "strike when the
iron's hot; that's my motto."

The father here turned half round to his son and winked at him,
nodding his head slightly towards the girl, thereby giving token
that, according to his ideas, the conversation could not be
discreetly carried on before a third person.

"All right," said the son, lifting his joram of brandy and water to
his mouth; an action in which he was immediately imitated by his
father, who had now received the means of doing so from the hands of
the fair Fanny.

"And how about a bed, my dear?" said Mollett senior; "that's a matter
of importance too; or will be when we are getting on to the little
hours."

"Oh, we won't turn you out, Mr. Mollett," said Fanny; "we'll find a
bed for you, never fear."

"That's all right then, my little Venus. And now if I had some dinner
I'd sit down and make myself comfortable for the evening."

As he said this, Fanny slipped out of the room, and ran down into the
kitchen to see what Tom and the cook were doing. The Molletts, father
and son, were rather more than ordinary good customers at the Kanturk
Hotel, and it was politic therefore to treat them well. Mr. Mollett
junior, moreover, was almost more than a customer; and for the sake
of the son Fanny was anxious that the father should be well treated.

"Well, governor, and what have you done?" said the younger man in a
low voice, jumping up from his seat as soon as the girl had left them
alone.

"Well, I've got the usual remittance from the man in Bucklersbury.
That was all as right as a trivet."

"And no more than that? Then I tell you what it is; we must be down
on him at once."

"But you forget that I got as much more last month, out of the usual
course. Come, Aby, don't you be unreasonable."

"Bother--I tell you, governor, if he don't--" And then Miss O'Dwyer
returned to her sanctum, and the rest of the conversation was
necessarily postponed.

"He's managed to get you a lovely steak, Mr. Mollett," said Fanny,
pronouncing the word as though it were written "steek." "And we've
beautiful pickled walnuts; haven't we, Mr. Aby? and there'll be
kidneys biled" (meaning potatoes) "by the time the 'steek's' ready.
You like it with the gravy in, don't you, Mr. Mollett?" And as she
spoke she drew a quartern of whisky for two of Beamish and Crawford's
draymen, who stood o