ere in fact, Roseen having carefully collected them
previous to installing their owners--not even the little creepy-stool
was absent.

Pat Clancy, who had maintained a certain dignified reserve all day,
not quite liking the notion of being regarded as Roseen's pensioner,
and not being certain whether this new move did not involve a
sacrifice of independence, was now fairly overcome. "God bless you, me
child!" he said brokenly, "ye were always the good little girl,
Roseen. Herself and me will be quite at home here."

"Ah then, musha, look at me pot," cried Mrs. Clancy, who had been
troubled by no scruples and whose tongue had been wagging freely
during the course of their transit to Monavoe. "Look at me own
_i_-dentical pot that has biled for me ever since we got married! I
declare I could very near kiss it! I could never fancy any stir-about
the same as what come out o' that pot! And there's the dresser an' all
me cups and saucers widout so much as a crack on them. Well now, who'd
ever fancy anybody that thoughtful? Sure we'll be in clover here--if
only we had poor Mike out o' gaol!"

"He'll be out soon, never fear," cried Roseen. "We'll get a grand
clever lawyer from Dublin to come an' spake for him, see if we don't.
But rest yourself now, Mr. Clancy, ye'll be tired afther the drive.
Maybe Mrs. Clancy would like to wet a grain o' tay for ye. Ye'll find
plenty there, ma'am, in the little caddy, an' I'll send up Judy with a
bit o' griddle cake."

"God bless ye, alanna!" said Mrs. Clancy, with shining eyes; "I'll set
on me own little kettle this minute; it's a grand little wan to bile
in a hurry, an' I'll make himself a cup of tay in no time."

Roseen withdrew with a bright nod, her innate delicacy prompting her
to leave the couple to themselves for a time. Mrs. Clancy's own
particular little rusty kettle was soon singing merrily on the hob,
and Judy presently appeared with the griddle cake and a roll of butter
of Roseen's own making.

"She's afther fetchin' it herself from the dairy," she remarked. "It's
herself has the grand hand for butter, God bless her!"

"Ahmin!" said Pat emphatically, "she's the grand little girl
altogether, there's not her aiquals in Ireland."

"Aye, indeed," chimed in his wife, "an' lookit how humble she is--no
more stuck up now nor she was when she was a little slip of a colleen,
leppin' about on the Rock, beyant."

"An' she has the fine fortun', mind ye," said Judy proudly, "the
Mas