Molly returned to her general good humour this morning, having few guests to attend to besides Mrs. Sullivan's family; and, to make up for her ill temper the night before, was particularly attentive, providing them with unsmoked water for their tea, and with bread, butter, eggs, and cream, of the best quality. They did not fail to profit by her care; and having made an excellent repast, prepared to recommence their journey. Mrs. O'Sullivan, as she now called herself, offered Colonel Desmond and Mr. Donolan seats in her carriages, which had arrived that morning from Dublin, from whence they had been sent two days before. These two gentleman accepting this accommodation, Caroline was consigned to the care of the maids, to make room for the dilettante in the barouche, Colonel Desmond taking the place of the servant on the driving seat. Mrs. O'Sullivan vainly attempted to practise towards the lower Irish the "genteel economy" she had so successfully carried into effect in Wales. The dexterous Hibernians, either by flattering or wounding her pride, contrived to draw forth, _bon grÈ mal grÈ_, the money out of her pockets. As she was walking out of the Canal Inn, Molly ran after her, saying, "May I make bould to spake a word to your Ladyship?" At the word _Ladyship_, Mrs. Sullivan turned round. "You've made a small mistake, madam; it was tree tirteens (three shillings) you intended to bestow me, and its tree testers (three sixpences) I've got." "No mistake at all, my good girl." "Och! put your hand in your purse, and you'll see I'm right. Grand quality like you always gives me tree tirteens: my Lady Glenora always bestows it me every time she comes forenenst me." "Are you sure that's true?" "Arrah where did you ever hear that Molly Cavanagh tould a lie? May the breakfast I'm after eating be my poison, and the devil blow me, if it isn't as right as my leg." Mrs. Sullivan, that she might exceed Lady Glenora, gave her three and sixpence. Molly now tapped Adelaide on the shoulder, and presented her with a beautiful nosegay she had pulled from the inn gardens; but when she saw her proceeding to open her purse, laying her hand on her arm, she stopped her, saying with a half reproachful look of sorrow, "Is it _you_ that's going to affront poor Molly? You're under no compliment to me at all. You gave me entirely too much before. I'll warrant me you're a grand lady when you're at home. You're as beautiful and as sweet as the posy yourself; and may your pretty brown eyes never look but on a friend, I pray God!" Adelaide, with one of her most charming smiles, and in the sweetest tone of her dulcet voice, thanked Molly for her good will; and as she stepped into the carriage thought to herself, "How my heart would ache, to see the kindness of these warm-hearted people treated with the scorn I fear is too often the only return it meets!" Colonel Desmond, directing the drivers to take that road which would most quickly lead