"A-ah, m'mah, in the name of goodnsss sit down and pour out the tea," interrupted Anna Maria impatiently. "I'm dyin' for me cup. An' sure ye haven't brought us anythin' at all to eat yet, Elleney. Off with you now, an' bring that same toast whoever made it. The poor child's frightened out of her wits. Sure what harm if ye did ask Pat Rooney to help ye, itself--ye can soon get shut of him again. Ju, for mercy's sake take that crabby ould face off o' ye. 'Pon me word 'tis enough to curdle the milk." Anna Maria's own face was of the round good-humoured order. "She took after the mother," the neighbours said, and had certainly inherited a large share of kindliness and jollity. "Faith! Nanny's right," cried Mrs. McNally, relaxing. "Go fetch the toast, Elleney, and give Mr. Pat Rooney his marchin' orders at the same time." "What am I to say?" inquired Elleney, her eyes round with alarm above cheeks that were still crimson. "Bid him get out of that," returned her aunt, laughing. Elleney took up her tray, and went away with a lagging step. The kitchen door was wide open, and in the aperture stood Pat, flushed with his exertions, and holding triumphantly aloft an immense dish of beautifully browned toast. "There now," he cried jubilantly, "I'll throuble them to put their teeth through the whole o' that in a hurry. Isn't that a fine lot? But I know they does be great aiters within there." "I'm very thankful to ye, Pat," said Elleney, with a downcast face. "Sure I'm not meanin' to show disrespect," resumed he, quick to note her expression, but mistaking its cause. "It's a powerful big family your a'nt has, first and last, and why wouldn't they ait? I'll tell ye what, Miss Elleney, I'll just stop here in the chimbley corner, an' if they does be wantin' any more toast I'll have it made for them afore you can turn round." "Oh no, Pat," cried Elleney in alarm. "That wouldn't do at all. Me a'nt bid me tell ye--me a'nt said--" "Well, what did she say, miss, dear?" inquired Pat, as she faltered. "She wasn't best pleased," stammered the girl. "She thought I done wrong lettin' you help me; she bid me give ye marchin' orders"--catching at what seemed to her the least offensive manner of conveying her aunt's behest. "Well, I can soon march," said Pat, in a slightly offended tone, and turning even a deeper red than before. "I'll be off out o' this in a minute." "Sure ye're not angry with me, Pat?" said Elleney timidly, as she followed him to the door. "I'm very grateful for all ye done for me." "To be sure you are," said Rooney, without turning his head, and in another moment the house door slammed behind him. Elleney returned somewhat mournfully to the parlour, there to find the whole family in a state of violent excitement. Mrs. McNally had just received a letter, which she was clutching fast with both fat hands; while the seven girls were simultaneously endeavouring to read its contents over her broad shoulders.