“It’s you that will have to go back,” said Polly, “not me. I’m the mistress of this house, you’ll please to recollect, Miss Lottie. Your father’s been a deal too good, he’s let you do just what you pleased, but that’s not my style. I begins as I mean to end. You shan’t stay here, I tell you, whatever you may think, if you want to trample upon me, and eat up every penny he has. Go and take off your things this moment, and see if you can’t be a little use in the house.” Lottie was struck dumb and could not tell what to say. She had not been cared for much in her life, but she had never been restrained, and the sensation was new to her. She did not know how to reply. “I do not wish to be in your way,” she cried. “I shall not stay long nor trouble you long, but please do not interfere with me while I am here. I must go.” “And I say you shan’t go!” said Polly, raising her voice after the manner of her kind, and stamping her foot upon the floor. “If you disobey me, I won’t have you here not another day. I’ll turn you out if it was twelve o’clock at night. I’ll show you that I am mistress in my own house. Do you think I’m going to be outfaced by you, and treated like the dirt below your feet? Go and take off your things this moment, and try if you can’t settle to a bit of work. Out of this house you shan’t go, not a single step.” “I say, stand out of the way,” said Law; he had come out of the dining-room with his hands in his pockets, having just finished his dinner. Law was not easily moved, but he had now made up his mind that he was on Lottie’s side. “Don’t give yourself airs to her. She is not of your sort,” he said. “The governor may let you do many things, but not bully her. Look here, Polly, you’d better stand out of her way.” “And who are you, you lazy, useless lout, that dares to call me Polly?” she cried. “Polly, indeed! your father’s wife, and far better than you. I’ll make him put you to the door, too, you idle low fellow, spending your time with a pack of silly, dressing, useless girls----” “I say, stop that,” cried Law, growing red and seizing her suddenly by the arm; he stood upon no ceremony with Polly, though she was his father’s wife; but he gave an uneasy alarmed glance at Lottie. “There’s some one waiting for you outside,” he cried. “Lottie, go.” She did not wait for any more. Trembling and horrified, she ran past and got out breathless, hastily closing the door behind her. The door had been open, and Mrs. O’Shaughnessy outside--drawing her skirts round her, physically and metaphorically, so as to avoid all pollution, yet listening to everything she could hear, was walking up and down the pavement. “Me poor child!” the good Irishwoman said, half sorry, half delighted to hear the first of the scandal. “Already! has it come to this? Me heart is sore for ye, Lottie me dear!” CHAPTER XXXIV. A CRISIS.