"So have I." "Had I been at your elbow, it is possible that something better might have been done; but two months;--they run by--oh, so quickly!" "Quite so. If I can do any good I shall quickly get another engagement." "You will no doubt do a great deal of good. But Mr. Jones is now at an end." "Mr. Jones is at an end," said Rachel, with another blow at her gown. "A singing girl like me does better without a lover,--especially if she has got a father to look after her." "That's as may be," said Mr. O'Mahony. "That's as may be," said Mr. Moss, again laying his hand upon his heart. The tone in which Mr. Moss repeated Mr. O'Mahony's words was indicative of the feeling and poetry within him. "If you had a lover such as is your faithful Moss," the words seemed to say, "no father could look after you half so well." "I believe I could do very well with no one to look after me." "Of course you and I have misunderstood each other hitherto." "Not at all," said Rachel. "I was unaware at first that Mr. Jones was an absolute reality. You must excuse me, but the name misled me." "Why shouldn't a girl be engaged to a man named Jones? Jones is as good a name as Moss, at any rate; and a deal more--" She had been going to remark that Jones was the more Christian of the two, but stopped herself. "At any rate you are now free?" he said. "No, I am not. Yes, I am. I am free, and I mean to remain so. Why don't you tell him, father?" "I have got nothing to tell him, my dear. You are so much better able to tell him everything yourself." "If you would only listen to me, Miss O'Mahony." "You had better listen to him, Rachel." "Very well; I will listen. Now go on." Then she again thumped herself. And she had thumped her hair, and thumped herself all round till she was as limp and dowdy as the elder sister of a Low Church clergyman of forty.