Mrs. Roberts: “Well, Willis!” She turns from him more in sorrow than in anger, and confronts a cook-like person of comfortable bulk, with a bundle in her hand, and every mark of hurry and exhaustion in her countenance. “Why, here’s Bridget now!” The Cook: “Maggie, mem! I was afraid I was after missun’ you, after all. I couldn’t see the gentleman anywhere, and I’ve been runnun’ up and down the depot askun’ fur um; and at last, thinks I, I’ll try the ladies’ room; and sure enough here ye was yourself. It was lucky I thought of it.” Mrs. Roberts: “Oh! I forgot to tell you he’d be in the ladies’ room. But it’s all right now, Maggie; and we’ve just got time to catch our train.” Campbell, bitterly: “Well, Agnes, for a woman that’s set so many people by the ears, you let yourself up pretty easily. By Jove! here comes that fellow back again!” They all mechanically shrink aside, and leave Roberts exposed to the approach of McIlheny. McIlheny: “Now, sor, me thrain’s gahn, and we can talk this little matter oover at our aise. What did ye mane, sor, by comin’ up to the Hannorable Mrs. Michael McIlheny and askun’ her if she was a cuke? Did she luke like a person that’d demane herself to a manial position like that? Her that never put her hands in wather, and had hilpers to milk her father’s cows? What did ye mane, sor? Did she luke like a lady, or did she luke like a cuke? Tell me that!” The Cook, bursting upon him from behind Roberts, who eagerly gives place to her: “_I’ll_ tell ye that meself, ye impidint felly! What’s to kape a cuke from lukun’ like a lady, or a lady from lukun’ like a cuke? Ah, Mike McIlheny, ye drunken blaggurd, is it _me_ ye’re tellin’ that Mary Molloy never put her hands in wather, and kept hilpers to milk her father’s cows! Cows indade! It was wan pig under the bed; and more shame to them that’s ashamed to call it a pig, if ye _are_ my cousin! _I’m_ the lady the gentleman was lukin’ for, and if ye think I’m not as good as Mary Molloy the best day she ever stipped, I’ll thank ye to tell me who is. Be off wid ye, or I’ll say something ye’ll not like to hear!” McIlheny: “Sure I was jokin’, Maggie! I was goun’ to tell the gintleman that if he was lukun’ for a cuke, I’d a cousin out of place that was the best professed cuke in Bahston. And I’m glad he’s got ye: and he’s a gintleman every inch, and so’s his lady, I dar’ say, though I haven’t the pleasure of her acquaintance--” The Colored Man who calls the Trains: “Cars ready for West Newton, Auburndale, Riverside, Wellesley, Natick, and South Framingham. Train for South Framingham. Express to West Newton. Track No. 5.” Mrs. Roberts: “That’s our train, Amy’ We get off at Auburndale. Willis, Edward, Maggie--come!” They all rush out, leaving McIlheny alone. McIlheny, looking thoughtfully after them: “Sure, I wonder what Mary’ll be wantun’ me to ask um next!” THE END End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Albany Depot, by W. D. Howells