Miss Kezia stood, unseen, unheard, within the door of the Stronghold, and gazed. Round the table sat several men, women, and children. On the table were the remains of a feast. Miss Kezia caught sight of a beef bone and gasped; she saw poultry bones, remains of pies, tarts, and cakes. The windows were flung wide, but the atmosphere of the room, thick with smoke, offended her nostrils. A pair of bare little legs gave a sudden spasmodic leap to a sheltering lap, and a shrill little voice exclaimed:— "Lady!" There was a sudden lull. Denis turned to his aunt. "Hulloa, Aunt Kezia! These are a few friends we came across to-day." "In—deed!" said Miss Kezia. An old woman was heard to exclaim with deep sentiment: "Sure ’tis his honour’s a rale gintleman entirely!" Miss Kezia, looking back afterwards, on the minutes that followed, marvelled angrily at her strange and quite unsuitable behaviour. She concluded, and rightly, that she was dazed with bewilderment at the welcome she received. To her cold and austere nature it was inexplicable. She found herself surrounded, called by terms of endearment, her hands held and shaken, compliments paid to herself and her nation. One old woman, half weeping over the joy that had been hers that day, actually kissed her hand. She was not a particularly clean old woman, and Miss Kezia wished that she wouldn’t do it. But she did not draw her hand roughly away. "Ten years," wailed the old woman, "have I stood the whole day through beside me barrow, and me not able to put me foot to the ground with the rheumatics!" Miss Kezia felt a passing inclination to point out that the two facts were not compatible. Oh, these people were awful! And one had a monkey, a horrible little monkey, sitting on his shoulder! And they were dirty! "Sure ’tis herself’s the kind lady, givin’ the poor Irish immigrants the welcome!" Welcome! Miss Kezia began to beat an ignominious retreat. She had to confess herself unequal to the occasion. Her inclination set strongly toward turning these undesirable guests from her house. But their gratitude was so exuberant; they were so sure of her welcome, so childishly hilarious. "’Tis herself’s giving us the grand time entirely!" "Won’t ye be sittin’ down wid us, me dear?" The old woman who had kissed her hand dragged a chair forward invitingly. "’Tisn’t much we’ve left ye," she pursued, "but ye’ll be havin’ a piece of cheese now?" Miss Kezia heard, amazedly, her own voice making excuses, as she edged back into the doorway. A grimy little hand was thrust up in front of her; a beguiling little voice suggestively besought God to bless her. Miss Kezia looked down into a smutty imp’s face with eyes as blue and innocent as Heaven. "God bless ye, lady! God bless ye, lady!" Slowly Miss Kezia opened her purse, slowly she took from it a halfpenny, and dropped it into the little hand. "God send ye a good husband, lady!" rang out jubilantly. "God guard every shtep of your way!"