her out of the house as quick as he could, saying, that if she did not keep a sharp look out, she would find some fine morning, that, like her cat, she wasn’t born to be drowned. Indeed, I was not sorry that we got rid of her on the spot, for Norah was coming in the evening, only I couldn’t, for the life of me, all that day, get over the idea of Edward (a lawyer too!) being silly enough to let the deceitful creature go off with one of our best glass cloths--though I made up my mind to put it down in the housekeeping next week, and make him give me the money for a new one, if I died for it. CHAPTER VI. WHICH TREATS OF MY IRISH SERVANT NORAH CONNOR, AND OF THE FEARS I REALLY HAD FOR MY LIFE WHILST SHE WAS WITH ME. “My heart’s with my Norah, for she is my treasure, And, sleeping or waking--in sunshine or shade-- From morning till nightfall--from nightfall till morning-- I think of my Norah--my own Irish maid.” “MY HEART’S WITH MY NORAH.” Edward put the cat into his blue bag, and took it down to his chambers with him that morning, all along with his law papers, (a dirty man.) When I asked him if he hadn’t better take them out and put them in his pockets, as Tom might go digging his claws into them, he told me they were only two or three rough bills of costs for his clients, and Tom’s claws couldn’t possibly hurt them; for as he hadn’t settled the things yet, it was no matter how much he stuck it into them. Then the stupid man giggled like a ninny, although, as I told him, I couldn’t see anything to giggle at, and that if in the end he found his bills of costs ripped up, that he’d laugh on the other side of his mouth, I’d be bound. So off he went with his cat, like another Whittington, to catch the Waterloo omnibus.