lf, for she said,
a moment later:

"But Mary was mighty fond of her old father and mother. She keeps
mementoes of them ahl over the place. She has now what she calls his
Polean pitcher--"

"His what?"

"Shure _I_ don't know! But she says it is. It's got a man on the
outside, and you pours out of his three-cornered hat."

"Oh, yes," I said. "I remember now. What did you say she called it?"

"There it is now, on the shelf above your head. But how it got there,
_I_ don't know. And Mary would be throwing fits if she saw it."

"Why?"

"Because she says her father used to send her every night, when she was
a little girl, to get his Polean pitcher filled with beer. She says
she minds him every time she looks at it--Gahd rest his soul."

I turned and looked at the little squat figure of Napoleon. It was the
pitcher the little man had given Mary for getting our trade for him,
when we were first married.

"She cried once when I put some cream in it to make pot-cheese," said
Katie. "And she emptied it and washed it and kissed it; then she stood
it on th' shelf with her picture of the Pope that you gave her."

Just then Mary, as if suspecting something, appeared at the door. She
looked suspiciously from one to the other.

"I was just afther telling the Missis, Mary, how careful you are of the
Polean pitcher you used to rush the growler with for your poor dear
father," said Katie, with a shy grin that was gone before we fairly saw
it.

Mary turned away without a word. She never spoke to me on the subject,
nor I to her.

The next day a gipsy fortune-teller came to Peach Orchard, and told the
fortunes of all the servants. She predicted a rich husband for Katie,
and a fit of sickness for Mary. I think she could not have pleased
each better.

That night we were sitting in the Angel's porch-study, when the most
dreadful howls and groans began to emanate from the kitchen. We all
hurried to the scene, and there, prone upon the floor, lay Mary,
weeping and twitching herself and moaning that she was going to die.

"It's the fortune-teller," said Katie in my ear. But Aubrey heard.

"Get up, Mary!" he said, sternly. (I did not know the Angel _could_ be
so stern.)

To the surprise of all of us, Mary obediently scrambled to her feet.

"Now go to your room, and go properly to bed. Katie will help you.
Then I shall telephone for the doctor."

Mary began to look frightened.

"Don't send for the doctor,