in request, both as servants and wives. It was
well known, too, that the Americans loved Irish people, and so there
would be no difficulty at all in getting a start. The more she thought
of Mrs. O'Connor the more favorably she pondered on emigration. She
would say nothing against Mrs. O'Connor yet, but the fact remained that
she had a wen on her cheek and buck teeth. Either of these afflictions
taken separately were excusable, but together she fancied they betoken
a bad, sour nature; but maybe the woman was to be pitied: she might be
a nice person in herself, but, then, there was the matter of the soap,
and she was very fond of giving unnecessary orders. However, time would
show, and, clients being as scarce as they were, one could not quarrel
with one's bread and butter.

The opening of a door and the stamping downstairs of heavy feet shot
Mrs. Makebelieve from her bed and into her clothing with furious speed.
Within five minutes she was dressed, and after kissing her daughter
three times she fled down the stairs and away to her business.

Mary had obtained her mother's consent to do as she pleased with the
piece of black velvet on the hem of her Sunday skirt, so she passed
some time in ripping this off and cleaning it. It would not come as
fresh as she desired, and there were some parts of it frayed and
rubbed so that the velvet was nearly lost, but other portions were
quite good, and by cutting out the worn parts and neatly joining the
good pieces she at last evolved a quite passable sash. Having the sash
ready she dressed herself to see how it looked, and was delighted.
Then becoming dissatisfied with the severe method of doing her hair
she manipulated it gently for a few minutes until a curl depended by
both ears and two or three very tiny ones fluttered above her
forehead. She put on her hat and stole out, walking very gently for
fear any of the other people in the house would peep through their
doors as she went by. Walk as gently as she could these bare, solid
stairs rang loudly to each footfall, and so she ended in a rush and
was out and away without daring to look if she was observed. She had a
sort of guilty feeling as she walked, which she tried to allay by
saying very definitely that she was not doing anything wrong. She said
to herself with determined candor that she would walk up to the St.
Stephen's Green Park and look at the ducks and the flower-beds and the
eels, but when she reached the quays she bl