114 The Real Charlotte. 



shtuck out in a chair in the middle of the flure readin' the 

 paper ! " Her eye fell on the apparently unconscious Mrs. 

 and Miss Bruif. " Ha, ha ! thin ! how cosy the two of yez 

 is on yer sofa ! Walk out, me Lady Ann ! " 



This courtesy-title, the expression of Norry's supremest 

 contempt and triumph, was accompanied by a sudden on- 

 slaught with the hearth-brush, but long before it could reach 

 them, the ladies referred to had left the room by the open 

 window. 



The room was very quiet after Norry had gone away. 

 Francie took the evicted holding of the cats, and fell speedily 

 into a doze induced by the unwonted half glass of whisky. 

 Her early dinner, an unappetising meal of boiled mutton 

 and rice pudding, was but a short interlude in the dulness 

 of the morning ; and after it was eaten, a burning tract of 

 afternoon extended itself between her and Mr. Dysart's 

 promised visit. She looked out of the window at the sailing 

 shreds of white cloud high up in the deep blue of the sky, 

 at the fat bees swinging and droning in the purple blossoms 

 of the columbine border, at two kittens playing furiously in 

 the depths of the mignonette bed ; and regardless of Char- 

 lotte's injunctions about the heat of the sun, she said to 

 herself that she would go out into the garden for a little. 

 It was three o'clock, and her room was as hot as an oven 

 when she went up to get her hat ; her head ached as she 

 stood before the glass and arranged the wide brim to her 

 satisfaction, and stuck her best paste pin into the sailor's 

 knot of her tie. Suddenly the door burst unceremoniously 

 open, and Norry's grey head and filthy face were thrust 

 round the edge of it. 



" Come down, Miss Francie ! " she said in a fierce 

 whisper ; "give over making shnouts at yerself in the glass 

 and hurry on down ! Louisa isn't in, and sure I can't open 

 the doore the figure I am." 



" Who's there ? " asked Francie, with flushing cheeks. 



" How v/ould I know ? I'd say 'twas Misther Lambert's 

 knock whatever. Sich galloppin' in and out of the house as 

 there is these two days ! Ye may let in this one yerself ! " 



When Francie opened the hall-door she was both relieved 

 and disappointed to find that Norry had been right in the 

 matter of the knock. Mr. Lambert was apparently more 



