“Thank you,” he interrupted, “yes--yes, if you will permit me, I should like to see your--Mrs. Foley.” Mary instantly pushed back the half-door, and ushered in the visitors. Old Katty was seated in a comfortable chair near the window. On her lap lay a peculiarly complacent white cat, whose loud purrings testified to its supreme satisfaction, although she had the fur half singed off one side, and was in appearance the very lowest of the lower order of the great tribe, with a thin, pointed head, and a disgracefully dirty face. Mrs. Foley, on the other hand, presented the remains of remarkably good breeding and good looks--slender and erect, with well-cut features, wavy black hair, but slightly powdered with grey, and dark, deep-set, tragic eyes. She bore but scant resemblance to her half-sister--the sandy, mealy-skinned, peevish Mrs. Grogan--and had made the more successful match of the two sisters. “Here’s two gentlemen, mother!” was Mary’s somewhat vague introduction. Mrs. Foley slowly turned her great melancholy eyes, first on Mr. Usher and then on his companion. As she gazed she suddenly seized the arms of her chair, rose to her feet and cried, “God help me! ’tis the earl himself!” and she trembled violently from head to foot. “Now, can’t ye sit down, mother,” protested Mary, “and don’t be exciting yourself. Sure, ’tis only a chance friend of the visitors from the ‘Glenveigh’ as has looked in.” Mrs. Foley threw herself back in her chair, and, rocking to and fro, began to wail and sob. “Oh, my sin has found me out. Wirrah, wirrah, asthue! My sin has found me out! You’ve come to put me in jail and take her away at last.” “Katty Foley,” he replied, “I will do you no injury in any way, you may be certain of that”--and his voice was strong and encouraging. “But I implore you to tell me the truth.” “Aye, your honour,” she moaned, “I will so, and sure, haven’t I been telling it this twelvemonth, and not a soul will believe me!” “I will believe you, I promise you on my honour.” “Ye may think I am mad, but it was only _bad_ I was; yer lordship will remember when I was sent for to take the poor little motherless babe?” He nodded his head gravely. “Oh, it was a fair and lovely darlin’, and so fine and healthy; but my own little girl grew droopy and pined--I’ve had four, and I never reared one. It killed me to see them just fading off and my heart withering along with them. When my little Mary--God rest her!--died, quite sudden, I was nearly crazy, but that other little one was a consolation, and as I lay in the bed I made up my mind I’d keep her for my own. Oh, wasn’t I the wicked woman? I had no scruple. Oh, may the saints pity me! But the little live warm child just caught me by the heart”--her voice rose to a wail of agony; “_how_ could I send her away, and sit again by the empty cradle?” She came to a pause, fighting for breath and overcome by the violence of her emotion. “And how did you do it?” he inquired in a low voice.