oor landing,
where, crouching behind flower-pots, I listened in fear and trembling to
the severe cross-examination of the O'Kelly.

"William, do not prevaricate. It was not a hymn."

"Me dear, so much depends upon the time. Let me give ye an example of
what I mean."

"William, pray in my presence not to play tricks with sacred melodies.
If you have no respect for religion, please remember that I have.
Besides, why should you be playing hymns in any time at ten o'clock
in the morning? It is not like you, William, and I do not credit your
explanation. And you were singing. I distinctly heard the word 'Sally'
as I opened the door."

"Salvation, me dear," corrected the O'Kelly.

"Your enunciation, William, is not usually so much at fault."

"A little hoarseness, me dear," explained the O'Kelly.

"Your voice did not sound hoarse. Perhaps it will be better if we do not
pursue the subject further."

With this the O'Kelly appeared to agree.

"A lady a little difficult to get on with when ye're feeling well and
strong," so the O'Kelly would explain her; "but if ye happen to be ill,
one of the kindest, most devoted of women. When I was down with typhoid
three years ago, a tenderer nurse no man could have had. I shall never
forget it. And so she would be again to-morrow, if there was anything
serious the matter with me."

I murmured the well-known quotation.

"Mrs. O'Kelly to a T," concurred the O'Kelly. "I sometimes wonder if
Lady Scott may not have been the same sort of woman."

"The unfortunate part of it is," continued the O'Kelly, "that I'm such
a healthy beggar; it don't give her a chance. If I were only a chronic
invalid, now, there's nothing that woman would not do to make me happy.
As it is--" The O'Kelly struck a chord. We resumed our studies.

But to return to our conversation at the stage door.

"Meet me at the Cheshire Cheese at one o'clock," said the O'Kelly,
shaking hands. "If ye don't get on here, we'll try something else; but
I've spoken to Hodgson, and I think ye will. Good luck to ye!"

He went his way and I mine. In a glass box just behind the door a
curved-nose, round-eyed little man, looking like an angry bird in a
cage, demanded of me my business. I showed him my letter of appointment.

"Up the passage, across the stage, along the corridor, first floor,
second door on the right," he instructed me in one breath, and shut the
window with a snap.

I proceeded up the passage. It somewhat sur