that the crude flare of the incandescent gas should
not be in her eyes, and then sat down in his own huge chair, in
comfortable proximity to her and the tea-tray.

"Well, Annie, me girl," he said. "You're looking tired enough, but
there isn't one will touch you in looks to-morrow for all that! Your
own daughter included!"

"Go on out of that, Francis, with your nonsense!" replied Mrs. Mangan,
with a coquettish slap on the Doctor's great round knee, "you ought to
be learning sense for yourself by this time!"

"Maybe I'm not so wanting in sense as you might think, Annie!" he
answered, his watchful, grey-blue eyes under the over-hanging, musical
brows, softening as he looked at her. I think one way and another, I
haven't made altogether such a bad fist of things!"

"Darling lovey!" cried Mrs. Mangan, adoringly. "How would you think I
meant it!"

"Well, I didn't either!" said the Doctor, with a satisfied laugh, "but
I'm inclined to think that I've done better than you're aware of, or
that you might give me credit for either!"

"All _I'm_ aware of," said Mrs. Mangan, sitting erect, with a
look of defiance, "is that there's nothing in this world, no, nor in
Ireland neither, that you couldn't do if you chose to put your mind to
it! So now! You needn't be talking to _me_ like that! Pretending
I don't know you after all those years!"

"Well, listen to me now," said the Doctor, well pleased, 'Tell me what
d'ye think of this marriage of Tishy's?"

"You know well what I think of it, Francis, and what everybody thinks
of it, too! The smartest and the richest--"

"Well, that's all right," interrupted the Doctor, "but for a woman
like yourself, that sets out to be fond of her children, its
surprising that you didn't make a match yet for your son!" He looked
at her with indulgent fondness, laughing at her, and she gazed back at
him with her heart in her eyes, and thought him the king of men.
"Well, what have you got to say to that, Mrs. Mangan? It's well for
the poor boy that his father isn't so neglectful of him!"

"What do you mean, Francis? What are you talking of?"

"I'm talking of poor Barty, my dear!" said the Doctor, enjoying
himself intensely, and watching his wife's handsome face with eyes
that lost no shade of its quick-changing expression. "You've a high
opingen of him, I know! Would you think Miss Christian Talbot-Lowry
was good enough for him?"

Mrs. Mangan's mouth opened, in sheer stupefaction. She opened