.

"Marry him, to be sure. A young woman like you, with more money than you
know what to do with, ought to have a protector. Faith, you needn't
laugh, for it's only common sense I'm talking. Tenants, and the new
laws, will play the mischief with your soft heart and your estate, if
you don't get some one to look after them both."

"Well?" says Mary Browne.

"Well, there's Rossmoyne, as I said before, actually going a begging for
a wife. Why not take him?"

"I don't care about beggars," says Miss Browne, with a slight smile. "I
am not one of those who think them picturesque."

"He isn't a beggar in any other sense than the one I have mentioned. He
is a very good match. Think of it, now."

"I am thinking. Indeed, ever since my first day here I been thinking how
deeply attached he is to Mrs. Bohun. Forgive me, Mrs. Bohun."

Olga laughs lightly. There is something about this plain girl that
repels the idea of offence.

"What on earth put that idea into your head?" says her hostess, opening
her eyes, who talks too much both in season and out of it to be able to
see all the by-play going on around her. "You aren't setting your cap at
him, are you, Olga my dear?"

"Indeed, no," says Olga, still laughing. "How could so absurd a notion
have got into _any_body's head?"

"How, indeed?" says Monica, gayly.

"There's Owen Kelly, then; though he isn't as well off as Rossmoyne,
still he will be worth looking after by and by, when the old man drops
off. He's as good hearted a fellow as ever lived, when you know what
he's at,--which isn't often, to do him justice. It struck me he was very
civil to you last night."

"He was," says Miss Browne, whose merriment is on the increase. "But I
never met any one who wasn't civil to me: so I found him commonplace
enough. Ah! if he had only been uncivil, now!"

"Well, there he is, at all events," says Madam O'Connor, sententiously.

"I hope he's comfortable," says Miss Browne, kindly, "I shan't try to
make him less so, at least. Why don't you recommend Mr. Desmond or Mr.
Ronayne to my notice?" with a mischievous glance at Monica and Olga
Bohun.

"I'm afraid they are done for," says Madam, laughing now herself. "And I
only hope that handsome boy Ronayne isn't laying up sorrow for himself
and living in a fool's paradise. Indeed, Olga, pretty as you are, I'll
be very angry with you if I hear you have been playing fast and loose
with him."

The old lady shakes her head grimly at Mrs