olks that have been good to the poor since iver the
poor have been in the land; rale gentlefolks, sich as there ain't no
others to be found nowadays in any of these parts. O'hone, o'hone!
but it's a bad day for us and for the childer; for where shall we
find the dhrop to comfort us or the bit to ate when the sickness
comes on us, as it's likely to come now, when the Fitzgeralds is out
of the counthry. May the Lord bless them, and keep them, and presarve
them, and the Holy Virgin have them in her keepin'!"

"Wh--i--s--h--h," said Aunt Letty, who could not allow such idolatry
to pass by unobserved or unrebuked.

"An' shure the blessin' of a poor woman cannot haram you," continued
the mother; "an' I'll tell you what, neighbours, it'll be a bad day
for him that folk call the heir when he puts his foot in that house."

"'Deed an' that's thrue for you, Bridget Magrath," said another voice
from among the crowd of women.

"A bad day intirely," continued the woman, with the baby; "av the
house stans over his head when he does the like o' that, there'll be
no justice in the heavens."

"But, Mrs. Magrath," said Aunt Letty, trying to interrupt her, "you
must not speak in that way; you are mistaken in supposing that Mr.
Owen--"

"We'll all live to see," said the woman; "for the time's comin' quick
upon us now. But it's a bad law that kills our ould masther over our
heads, an' takes away from us our ould misthress. An' as for him they
calls Mr. Owen--"

But the ladies found it impossible to listen to her any longer, so
with some difficulty they extricated themselves from the crowd by
which they were surrounded, and once more shaking hands with those
who were nearest to them escaped into the park, and made their way
back towards the house.

They had not expected so much demonstration, and were not a little
disconcerted at the scene which had taken place. Aunt Letty had never
been so handled in her life, and hardly knew how to make her bonnet
sit comfortably on her head; and the two girls were speechless till
they were half across the park.

"I am glad we have been," said Emmeline at last, as soon as the
remains of her emotion would allow her to articulate her words.

"It would have been dreadful to have gone away without seeing them,"
said Mary. "Poor creatures, poor dear creatures; we shall never again
have any more people to be fond of us like that!"

"There is no knowing," said Aunt Letty; "the Lord giveth and the Lor