two or three times, she knit more
busily than before.

At this moment, the shadow of a person passing the house darkened the
window opposite which she sat, and immediately a tall female, of a wild
dress and aspect, entered the kitchen.

"_Gho manhy dhea ghud, a ban chohr_! the blessin' o' goodness upon you,
dacent woman," said Mrs Sullivan, addressing her in those kindly phrases
so peculiar to the Irish language.

Instead of making her any reply, however, the woman, whose eye glistened
with a wild depth of meaning, exclaimed in low tones, apparently of much
anguish, "_Husht, husht, dherum_! husht, husht, I say--let me alone--I
will do it--will you husht? I will, I say--I will--there now--that's
it--be quiet, an' I will do it--be quiet!" and as she thus spoke she
turned her face back over her left shoulder, as if some invisible being
dogged her steps, and stood bending over her.

"_Gho manhy dhea ghud, a ban chohr, dherhum areesht_! the blessin' o'
God on you, honest woman, I say again," said Mrs Sullivan, repeating
that _sacred_ form of salutation with which the peasantry address each
other. "'Tis a fine evenin', honest woman, glory be to Him that sent the
same, and amin! If it was cowld, I'd be axin' you to draw your chair in
to the fire; but, any way, won't you sit down?"

As she ceased speaking the piercing eye of the strange woman became
riveted on her with a glare, which, whilst it startled Mrs Sullivan,
seemed full of an agony that almost abstracted her from external life.
It was not, however, so wholly absorbing as to prevent it from
expressing a marked interest, whether for good or evil, in the woman who
addressed her so hospitably.

"Husht, now--husht," she said, as if aside--"husht, won't you--sure I
may speak _the thing_ to her--you said it--there now, husht!" And then
fastening her dark eyes on Mrs Sullivan, she smiled bitterly and
mysteriously.

"I know you well," she said, without, however, returning the _blessing_
contained in the usual reply to Mrs Sullivan's salutation--"I know you
well, Mary Sullivan--husht, now, husht--yes, I know you well, and the
power of all that you carry about you; but you'd be better than you
are--and that's well enough _now_--if you had sense to know--ah, ah,
ah!--what's this!" she exclaimed abruptly, with three distinct shrieks,
that seemed to be produced by sensations of sharp and piercing agony.

"In the name of goodness, what's over you, honest woman?" inquired Mrs