“I should rather think she _has_ paid a visit--a visitation,” rejoined Denis, who was lolling with his hands in his pocket and his eyes half shut--an affectation of indolence being his best substitute for easy self-possession. “We thought we should have had to go away ourselves to get rid of her. We were afraid that she would be like the man who came with his carpet bag to stay from Saturday till Monday, and remained for twenty years.” “She would have gone if she _could_,” retorted Cuckoo mysteriously; glancing at her mother who was holding a parley with some one at the door. “What on earth do you mean? what was to prevent her?” enquired Denis; “the road was clear.” “I won’t tell you, for you hate Aunt Julia, but I’ll tell George”--taking him firmly by the button-hole, and speaking in a whisper. George rather mistrusted his gentle sister’s artless confidences, but there was no escape for him. “She had no money for her journey; twice she had it sent over, and twice mother borrowed it, so she could not get away; she was here three months.” “Nonsense, Cuckoo,” said her unwilling listener, drawing back; “you should not say such things.” “What has she been telling you?” asked Mrs. Malone, rather anxiously, as she resumed her work. “Only that we never sit here, mother, or have a fire in this room, or dessert, or coffee, or wine,” continued this pleasant child. “It’s all on account of _you_, George,” giving him a playful poke. She was excessively proud of her handsome brother. Mrs. Malone reddened to her liberal parting, and fidgeted uneasily on her chair, and George said: “Surely, mother, you are not going to make a stranger of _me_?” “The fatted calf for the prodigal son! Eh! What? What?” said Denis, mimicking his father, with a loud unmeaning laugh. “Prodigal son!” screamed Cuckoo. “That’s yourself. Do you know the last time he came home, George, he walked the whole way from Dublin; he was nearly barefoot, and he had pawned----” “_Cuckoo!_” exclaimed her mother authoritatively, “go and see if the passage door is shut; now go at once.” Cuckoo and Denis collided in the doorway, and left the room together; and presently voices in angry recrimination, and the sound of a hearty smack, and loud sobs, were heard in the hall; then a slamming of doors, a roar from the Major’s study, and silence. CHAPTER IV. MRS. MALONE OPENS HER MOUTH. “Let the world slide, let the world go; A fig for care, and a fig for woe! If I can’t pay, why I can owe.” --HEYWOOD. “Mother,” said George, after a truly eloquent pause, “why don’t you send Cuckoo to school? her accent is frightful, and----”