But you be Irish, ben't you?"

I laughed. "No; American!"

"Ha! Father and mother Irish, mebbe?"

"No, they were American, too; but my great-great-grandfather
and-grandmother were Irish."

"Aye, that's it! I knowed you was Irish the minute I seen them red
cheeks, eh! sister Manners?" chuckled brother Mason in a rich brogue,
rubbing his hands and looking across at my room-mate, who had been
apparently oblivious to our conversation, as she washed and wiped the
dishes out of a tin basin which I recognized as that from which we had
washed our hands and faces after we got home from work. She now fixed
the visitor with her periwinkle eyes, and replied severely:

"I ain't got nothing to say against my lady-friend's looks, as you
certainly know, brother Mason."

Something in this answer--no doubt, a hint of smothered jealousy--made
brother Mason throw his hand to his mouth and duck his head as he darted
a sly look toward me. But I met the look with a serious face, and indeed
I felt serious enough without getting myself into any imbroglio with
this strange pair of lovers.

"You're Irish, I suppose, Mr. Mason?" I asked when he had recovered his
gravity after this mirth-provoking incident.

"Me? I'm from County Wicklow, but I ain't no Cat'lic Irish. I'm a
Methody. Cat'lic in the old country, Methody here. Got converted twenty
years ago at one of them Moody and Sankey meetings--you've heard tell of
Moody and Sankey, mebbe? Eh? Ha!"

These latter ejaculations the Catholic apostate repeated alternately and
with rhythmic precision as he proceeded to press tobacco into a clay
pipe with numerous deft movements of his large red thumb, regarding me
fixedly all the while.

"Yes, yes," I repeated many times, but not until he had lighted the pipe
and drawn a deep whiff of it did brother Mason choose to regard his
question as answered.

"Well, it was them that brought me to the mourners' bench, for fair. It
was Moody and Sankey that did the damage; and I've got to say this much
for them gentlemen, I've never seen the day I was sorry they did it. I'm
the supe of a mission Sunday-school now, meself; and I've done me dirty
best to push the gospel news along." Here he turned to Henrietta. "Be
your lady-friend coming over to-morrow afternoon, sister Manners?"

"I don't hinder her, nor nobody's, doing what they like!" answered
Henrietta, again with that air of severity, not to say iciness, in her
manner; and I shifted myself uncomfor