“An' have you the brass to say so, knowin' that it's false an' a lie into the bargain?” (Head energetically shaken.) “Have I the brass, is it? I keep my brass in my pocket, ma'am, not in my face, like some of our friends.” (Head shaken in reply to the action displayed by Kitty.) This was a sharp retort; but it was very well returned. “Thank you, ma'am,” replied Biddy, “if it's faces you're spakin' about, I know you're able to outface me any day; but whatever's in my face there's no desate in my heart, Miss Lowry. Put that in your pocket.” (One triumphant shake of the head at the conclusion.) “There's as much in your heart as'll shame your face, yet, Miss Nulty. Put that in yours.” (Another triumphant shake of the head.) “Thank God,” retorted Biddy, “none o' my friends ever knewn what a shamed face is. I say, madam, none o' _my_ family iver wore a shamed face. _Thiguthu shin?_” (Do you understand that? ) This, indeed, was a bitter hit; for the reader must know that a sister of Lowry's had not passed through the world without the breath of slander tarnishing her fair fame. “Oh, it's well known your tongue's no slander, Biddy.” “Thin that's more than can be said of yours, Kitty.” “If my sisther met with a misfortune, it was many a betther woman's case than ever you'll be. Don't shout till you get out of the wood, ma'am. You dunna what's afore yourself. Any how, it's not be lettin' fellows into the masther's kitchen whiff the family's in bed, an' dhrinkin' whiskey wid them, that'll get you through the world wid your character safe. * * * An' you're nothin' but a barge, or you'd not dhraw down my sisther's name that never did you an ill turn, whatever she did to herself, poor girl!” “An' do you dar' for to call me a barge? * * * * Blast your insurance! be this an' be that, for a farden I'd malivogue the devil out o' you.” “We're not puttin' it past you, madam, you're blaggard enough to fight like a man; but we're not goin' to make a blaggard an' a bully of ourselves, in the mane time.” [The conversation, of which we are giving a very imperfect report, was garnished by both ladies with sundry vituperative epithets, which it would be inconsistent with the dignity of our history to record.] “That's bekase you haven't the blood of a hen in you * * * sure we know what you are! But howld! be me sowl, you're doin' me for all that. Ah, ha! I see where you're ladin' me; but it won't do, Miss Kitty Lowry. I'll bring you back to the catechize agin. You'd light the straw to get away in the smoke; but you're worth two gone people yet, dhough.” “Worth half a dozen o' you, any day.” “Well, as we're both to the fore, we'll soon see that. How did you know, my lady, that the masther's hall door was left open to-night? Answer me that, on the nail!”