“Praise be to the saints,” she said, solemnly, “that denied us the snare of mere beauty without sinse, or piety, or respect for old age, or humility, or politeness, or gratitude, or--” “Very well, thin, Agnes O’Mahony,” broke in Mrs. Fergus, promptly. “If ye’ve that opinion of me, it’s not becomin’ that I should lave me daughter wid ye anny longer. I’ll take her meself to Kenmare next week--the ride over the mountains will do me nervous system a power o’ good--and _there_ she’ll learn to be a lady.” Cormac O’Daly lifted his head and set down his glass. He knew perfectly well that with this familiar threat the dispute always came to an end. Indeed, all the parties to the recent contention now of their own accord looked at him, and resettled themselves in their seats, as if to notify him that his turn had come round again. “I’m far from denying,” he said, as if there had been no interruption at all, “that our O’Mahony is possessed of qualities which commind him to the vulgar multichude. It’s thrue that he rejewced rints all over the estate, and made turbary rights and the carrigeens as free as wather, and yet more than recouped himself by opening the copper mines beyant Ardmahon, and laysing thim to a company for a foine royalty. It’s thrue he’s the first O’Mahony for manny a gineration who’s paid expinses, let alone putting money by in the bank.” “And what more would ye ask?” said Mrs. Fergus. “Sure, whin he’s done all this, and made fast frinds with every man, women and child roundabout into the bargain, what more would ye want?” “Ah, what’s money, Mrs. Fergus O’Mahony,” remonstrated O’Daly, “and what’s popularity wid the mere thoughtless peasanthry, if ye’ve no ancesthral proide, no love and reverence for ancient family thraditions, no devout desoire to walk in the paths your forefathers trod?” “Faith, thim same forefathers trod thim with a highly unsteady step, thin, bechune oursilves,” commented Mrs. Fergus. “But their souls were filled with blessid piety,” said Mother Agnes, gravely. “If they gave small thought to the matter of money, and loike carnal disthractions, they had open hands always for the needs of the church, and of the convint here, and they made holy indings, every soul of ’em.” “And they respected the hereditary functions of their bards,” put in O’Daly, with a conclusive air. At the moment, as there came a sudden lull in the tumult of the storm outside, those within the reception-room heard a distinct noise of knocking, which proceeded from beneath the stone-flags at their feet. Three blows were struck, with a deadened thud as upon wet wood, and then the astounded listeners heard a low, muffled sound, strangely like a human voice, from the same depths. The tempest’s furious screaming rose again without, even as they listened. All six crossed themselves mechanically, and gazed at one another with blanched faces.