Mr. MacFie prepared himself for the ordeal before him. Standing in
front of Lady Knob-Kerrick as if she had been an altar, he bowed low
before her.

"Your Leddyship." A pause of veneration. "Ma Freends," he continued.
"Few meenisters of the Gospel have the preevilege that has been
extended to me this evening. It is the will of the Almighty that I
succeed a most saintly man (murmurs of approval) in the person of Mr.
Sopley. It will be a deefecult poseetion for me to fill. (Mr. Sopley
wagged his head from side to side.) In her breeliant oration her
Leddyship has emphasised some of the attreebutes of a man whose
godliness ye can all testify----"

"You shan't keep me out, you baggage. Can't I hear his dear voice! My
Andrew! Oh, Andy! Andy! and they want to keep me away from you."

The interruption came from the door, where Alice was vainly
endeavouring to keep out a dishevelled-looking creature, who finally
broke through and walked unsteadily towards the table.

Lady Knob-Kerrick turned and stared at the apparition through her
lorgnettes.

Mr. MacFie's jaw dropped.

Mr. Sopley for the first time that evening seemed to forget heaven,
and devoted himself to terrestrial things. Everybody was gazing with
wide-eyed wonder at the cause of the interruption.

"Oh! my Andrew, my little Andy!" cried the woman in hoarse maudlin
tones. Her hair, to which was attached a black toque with a brilliant
oval of embroidery in front, hung over her left ear. Her clothes,
ill-fitting and much stained, hung upon her as if they had been
thrown--rather than put on. Her face, intended by Providence to be
pretty, was tear-stained and dirty. Her blouse was open at the neck
and her boots mud-stained and shapeless.

"What--what is the meaning of this?" demanded Lady Knob-Kerrick of Mr.
MacFie, as she rose from her chair, a veritable Rhadamanthus.

The girl, who was now hanging on to Mr. MacFie's arm, turned and
regarded Lady Knob-Kerrick over her shoulder.

"He's my boooy," she spluttered; then closing her eyes her head
wobbled from side to side, as if her neck were unable to support it.

"Your what?" thundered Lady Knob-Kerrick.

"My--my boooy," drawled the girl, "husband. Oh! Andy, Andy!" and she
clung to Mr. MacFie the more closely in spite of his frantic efforts
to shake himself free.

"Mr. MacFie, what is the meaning of this?" demanded Lady Knob-Kerrick.

"I've--I've never seen her before," stammered Mr. MacFie, looking as
if h