such a thing, would we, Henny?"

"Indeed we would _not_," returned Henny or Henrietta as she was
indifferently called in the family. "Cockin' him up that way. He had a
right to know better, an' not go forgettin' himself and his place
altogether."

"Aye, indeed," chimed in Bridget. "Set him up! Him and his ould cart."

"Then if it was nothin' but the cart that ailed him, Bridget,"
returned Juliana severely, "there wouldn't be much to complain of.
I'll throuble ye not to be turnin' up your nose at the beautiful new
cart me mother sent for all the way to Dublin. Ye paid pounds and
pounds for that same cart, didn't ye, m'mah?"

"To be sure I did," responded Mrs. McNally promptly. "There, now,
don't be upsettin' yourselves, girls. Elleney didn't know any better,
she's that innicent, poor little girl. She won't do it again, I'll
engage--will ye, Elleney? Ye see, me dear," she added in a
confidential undertone, "we do have to be very particular in an
establishment like this. 'Twouldn't do for me at all to go lettin' a
boy like Pat Rooney forget himself. He's a very decent boy, poor
fellow, an' his mother--the Lord ha' mercy on her!--was a most
respectable poor woman. But he must be kept in his place, me child,
an' ye see--"

"A-ah, m'mah, in the name of goodnsss sit down and pour out the tea,"
interrupted Anna Maria impatiently. "I'm dyin' for me cup. An' sure ye
haven't brought us anythin' at all to eat yet, Elleney. Off with you
now, an' bring that same toast whoever made it. The poor child's
frightened out of her wits. Sure what harm if ye did ask Pat Rooney to
help ye, itself--ye can soon get shut of him again. Ju, for mercy's
sake take that crabby ould face off o' ye. 'Pon me word 'tis enough to
curdle the milk."

Anna Maria's own face was of the round good-humoured order. "She took
after the mother," the neighbours said, and had certainly inherited a
large share of kindliness and jollity.

"Faith! Nanny's right," cried Mrs. McNally, relaxing. "Go fetch the
toast, Elleney, and give Mr. Pat Rooney his marchin' orders at the
same time."

"What am I to say?" inquired Elleney, her eyes round with alarm above
cheeks that were still crimson.

"Bid him get out of that," returned her aunt, laughing.

Elleney took up her tray, and went away with a lagging step. The
kitchen door was wide open, and in the aperture stood Pat, flushed
with his exertions, and holding triumphantly aloft an immense dish of
beautifully brown