"Here's your daughter, ma'm," he stammered. "Here's your daughter, I say."
"Where?" cried the amazed lady. "What is it, O'Reilly?" She arose hastily and rolled towards him.
"Tell me, O'Reilly, I command you," cried his wife.
"I insist," said she. "I must be told. I'm not well, I tell you. My head's going round. Give me the letter."
Mr. O'Reilly drew about him a sudden and terrible calmness--
"Listen, woman," said he, "and you too, young man, and be thankful for your escape."
"DEAR PA," he read, "this is to tell you that I got married to-day to Christie Rorke. We are going to open a little fried-fish shop near Amiens Street. Hoping this finds you as it leaves me at present, your loving daughter,
Her mouth was partly open. She breathed with difficulty. Her eyes were fixed on space, and she seemed to be communing with the guardians of Chaos--
"Married!" said she in a musing whisper. "Christie!" said she. She turned to her husband--"What an amazing thing. Doesn't it make you think, O'Reilly, of the poem, 'The World Recedes, it Disappears'?"
"It does not, ma'm," said her husband savagely.
"And what is this young gentleman going to do?" she continued, gazing tearfully at the suitor.
"He's going to go home," replied her husband fiercely. "He ought to be in bed long ago."
"A broken heart," said his wife, "is a sad companion to go home with. Doesn't it make you think of the song----?"
"It does not, ma'm," roared her husband. "I'm going back to my work," and once again the door banged and the room shook.
Young Mr. O'Grady arose timidly. The world was swimming about him. Love had deserted him, and etiquette was now his sole anchor; he shook hands with Mrs. O'Reilly--
"I think I had better be going now," said he. "Good-bye, Mrs. O'Reilly."
"Must you really go?" said that lady with the smile of a maniac.
"I'm afraid so," and he moved towards the door.
"Well," said she, "give my love to your mother and your Aunt Jane."
"I will," was his reply, "and," with firm politeness, "thank you for a very pleasant evening."
"Don't mention it, Mr. O'Grady. Good-bye."
Mrs. O'Reilly closed the door and walked back towards the table smiling madly. She sank into a chair. Her eye fell on the butter-knife--
"I haven't had a bit to eat this day," said she in a loud and threatening voice, and once again she pulled the loaf towards her.