ever name us together as sweethearts--mark my words
now. I would go any length to sarve Charley Hanlon, but I care nothin'
for him beyond an acquaintance, although I did like him a little, or I
thought I did."

"Poor Charley!" exclaimed Nelly, "he'll break his heart. Arra what'll he
do for a piece o' black crape to get into murnin'? eh--ha! ha! ha!"

"If you had made use of them words to me only yesterday," she replied,
"I'd punish you on the spot; but now, you unfortunate woman, you're
below my anger. Say what you will or what you wish, another quarrel with
you I will never have."

"What does she mane?" said the other, looking fiercely at the Prophet; "I
ax you, you traitor, what she manes?"

"Ay, an' you'll ax me till you're hoarse, before you get an answer," he
replied.

"You're a dark an' deep villain," she uttered, while her face became
crimson with rage, and the veins of her neck and temples swelled out as
if they would burst; "however, I tould you what your fate would be, an'
that Providence was on your bloody trail. Ay did I, and you'll find it
true soon."

The Prophet rose and rushed at her; but Sarah, with the quickness of
lightning, flew between them.

"Don't be so mane," she said--"don't now, father, if you rise your hand
to her I'll never sleep a night undher the roof. Why don't you separate
yourself from her? Oh, no, the man that would rise his hand to sich a
woman--to a woman that must have the conscience she has--especially when
he could put the salt seas between himself an' her--is worse and meaner
than she is. As for me, I'm lavin' this house in a day or two, for my
mind's made up that the same roof won't cover us."

"The divil go wid you an' sixpence then," replied Nelly,
disdainfully--"an' then you'll want neither money nor company; but before
you go, I'd thank you to tell me what has become o' the ould Tobaccy
Box, that you pulled out o' the wall the other day. I know you were
lookin' for it, an' I'm sure you got it--there was no one else to take
it; so before you go, tell me--unless you wish to get a knife put into
me by that dark lookin' ould father of yours."

"I know nothing about your ould box, but I wish I did."

"That's a lie, you sthrap; you know right well where it is."

"No," replied her father, "she does not, when she says she doesn't. Did
you ever know her to tell a lie?"

"Ay--did I--fifty."

The Prophet rushed at her again, and again did Sarah interpose.

"You vile ou