ed innocently.

He hesitated.

"Well, no," he replied artlessly. "No, not both of them."

"Ah, I thought that same!" Hannah gave a nod of understanding. "Sure,
'twas to be tormentin' men she was brought into the world for. I said
so meself the first day I took her into me arms."

"But--but I haven't said anything. How do you know that it is----?"

"How do I know that it's Miss Clodagh that's botherin' you? Sure, how
do I know that you're standin' before me? Faith, by the use of me
eyesight! Haven't I seen you lookin' at her and ponderin'--and lookin'
at her agin?"

Milbanke's lips tightened, and he drew himself up.

"I should be sorry if any thought I have bestowed on your young
mistress----" he began coldly; then suddenly the intense need of help
and sympathetic counsel over-balanced dignity. "Hannah," he said
abruptly, "I'm in a terribly awkward position, and that is the simple
truth. My mind is quite at rest about the younger girl. She is a
child--and will be a child for years. A good school is all she needs.
But with the other it's different--with Clodagh it's different. Clodagh
is no longer a child."

Hannah remained discreetly silent.

"If I had a sister," he went on, "or any friend to whom I could entrust
her. But I have none."

Again Hannah shook her head.

"Why, thin, that's a pity!" she murmured. "Sure, 'tis lonesome for a
gintleman to be by himself."

"It is a pity--a great pity. You do not know how it is weighing upon
me. Of course, there is her aunt----"

Hannah made an exclamation of horror.

"Is it Mrs. Laurence?" she cried. "Is it tie her to Mrs. Laurence you
would? Sure, you may as well put her in the grave and be done wid it."

Milbanke's harassed face grew more perplexed.

"No," he said hurriedly--"no; I understand that that arrangement is
impossible. I was merely wondering whether there is any other--any more
distant relative with whom she might be happy----"

He looked anxiously into her broad, shrewd face.

For a moment the small eyes met his seriously, then involuntarily they
twinkled.

"Faith, when I was a young woman, sir," she said slowly, "men wasn't so
sat on findin' relations for a girl like Miss Clodagh--unless maybe
'twas a relation of their own makin'!"

Milbanke suddenly looked away.

"What--what do you mean?" he asked confusedly.

"Why, that 'tisn't aunts and cousins that a girl like Miss Clodagh
wants, but a good husband."

"A--a husband?"

"Why, thin,