The Real Charlotte, 2$ 



swept of! her head by a bough of laburnum. Its owner gave 

 a shrill cry and made a snatch at the reins, with an idea 

 apparently of stopping the horse. 



"No, you don't," said Mr. Lambert, intercepting the 

 snatch with his whip hand ; " you're going to be handed 

 over to your aunt just as you are." 



Half a dozen steps brought them to the door, and the 

 chestnut pulled up with his pink nose almost between the 

 curtains of the inside car. It was hard to say whether Miss 

 Mullen had heard Lambert's remark, which had certainly 

 been loud enough to enable her to do so, but her only reply 

 was an attack upon the carman. 



"Take your car out o' that, ye great oaf!" she vociferated. 

 " can't ye make way for your betters ? " Then with a com 

 plete change of voice, " Well, me dear Francie, you're wel- 

 come, you're welcome." 



The greeting was perceptibly less hearty than that which 

 had been squandered on the trunk and bonnet-box ; but an 

 emotion rechauffe necessarily loses flavour. Francie had 

 jumped to the ground with a reckless disregard of the 

 caution demanded by the steps of a dog-cart, and stooping 

 her hatless head, kissed the hard cheek that Charlotte ten- 

 dered for her embrace. 



"Thank you very much, I'm very glad to come," she 

 said, in a voice whose Dublin accent had been but little 

 modified by the six years that had lightly gone over her 

 since the August Sunday when she had fled from Tommy 

 Whitty in the milkman's cart. " And look at me the show 

 I am without my hat ! And it's all his fault ! " with a lift of 

 her blue eyes to Lambert, " he wouldn't let me stop and 

 pick it up." 



Charlotte looked up at her with the wide smile of welcome 

 still stiff upon her face. The rough golden heap of curls on 

 the top of Francie's head was spangled with ramdrops and 

 her coat was grey with wet. 



" Well, if Mr. Lambert had had any sense," said Miss 

 Mullen, " he'd have let you come in the covered car. Here, 

 Louisa, go fetch Miss Fitzpatrick's hat." 



" Ah, no, sure she'll get all wet," said Francie, starting 

 herself before the less agile Louisa could emerge from be- 

 hind her mistress, and running down the drive. 



