TWO SUNDAY AFTERNOONS 263 



a tenant who seemed anxious to meet his views in 

 every respeet, and a fortnight's rent in advance was 

 at this moment locked up in Mr. McKenzie's cash-box. 

 Mr. McKenzie's business transactions had always 

 found their earthly close in this receptacle, from the 

 days when it snapped its jaws upon the modest 

 remuneration received by him for some minor position 

 in the Custom House; and now it was scarcely to 

 be supposed that he was entitled to much emolument 

 for his duties of making out the lodger's bills in a 

 copperplate hand and effacing himself and his dingy 

 beard as completely as possible from their ken. 



Out and away beyond the dripping locks of the 

 canal that drives its way west among suburban streets, 

 the sunset accomplished its slow and splendid per- 

 fection, undreamed of by Lower Mount Street. The 

 wonder of light was perpetuated along that thorough- 

 fare by the street lamps, flame blossom on rigid stalk, 

 with the twilight falling hazy above them between 

 the dusky lines of houses. A lamp outside Mr. 

 INIcKenzie's window sent a square of light into the 

 room, momently sharper and yellower as the summer 

 evening darkened; as he lay back and dozed in his 

 chair it fell on his face, with the shadow of the lace 

 curtains moving upon his plain features like the mesh 

 of a net. 



Kate Byrne had lighted the gas in the hall and 

 kitchen, and had twice been obliged to take the kettle 

 " off the boil," before she heard the ring at the door 

 that announced her guest. 



I\Irs. Nolan was dressed in black, with a large hat 

 and a thickly spotted veil ; it seemed remarkable to 

 Kate, as she t6ok her visitor downstairs, that so 

 fashionable a person should wear tennis shoes, black 

 canvas with india-rubber soles, such as can be bought 

 for half-a-crown, but the magnitude of her own position 



