“Oh, a’nt, me heart’s broke entirely!” cried Elleney, running to her, and hiding her face on her ample shoulder.

Pat cleared his throat diffidently, insensibly relaxing his grip the while, so that, with a slight effort, Brian was enabled to roll him on to the floor, and to rise, looking very sheepish.

“Was it fightin’ the two of yez was?” said Mrs. McNally severely.  “Sure, that’s a disgrace.  Look at your coat all over dust, Mr. Brennan, and the big lump on your forehead risin’ up the size of an egg!”

Brian squinted over his shoulder to ascertain the condition of his coat, but being unable to carry out the rest of Mrs. McNally’s injunctions and survey the lump on his own forehead, he passed his hand over it instead, and turned towards Pat with an expression of virtuous indignation.

“That fellow there was near bein’ the death of me,” he exclaimed.

“Musha! what is it all about at all?” queried Mrs. McNally.  “Elleney, quit cryin’ an’ tell me what happened ye?  What was that impident fellow Pat doin’ rollin’ Mr. Brennan on the floor?”

Elleney shook her head, and wept, and nearly throttled her aunt, but entered on no explanation.

Quick steps were now heard in the passage, and Anna Maria burst in.

“What in the world is Elleney cryin’ for?” she exclaimed; “an’ goodness gracious! look at Mr. Brennan, the show he is!  Is it up the chimney ye were?  For the matter of that Pat isn’t much better.  What’s all this, m’mah?”

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell ye, me dear,” returned her mother.  “I can’t get a word o’ sense out of any of them.  Brian Brennan here says that Pat is afther bein’ the death of him.”

“Ah, then now,” cried Anna Maria sarcastically, “isn’t he very delicate, the poor fellow, to be so near made an end of by a little fellow half his size!”

“I was took by surprise,” explained Mr. Brian, with dignity, “or I could easy have settled him with one finger.”

“Well, but what call had ye to go doin’ it, Pat?” insisted Anna Maria.  “’Twasn’t your place to go knocking a visitor down, I think.”

“I’m very sorry, miss, if ye think I’m afther takin’ a liberty,” returned Pat firmly; “but I’d knock any man down who went to insult Miss Elleney.”

Elleney dropped her arms from her aunt’s neck and whisked round, her blue eyes blazing through her tears.

“I’ll thank ye not to be mixin’ yerself up with my business at all, Pat Rooney.  Nobody asked you to meddle.”

“Was it Mr. Brennan ye were cryin’ about, me poor child?” said Mrs. McNally, in a compassionate but distinctly audible whisper.

Brian shot a melting glance towards her.

“Upon me word,” he was beginning plaintively, when Elleney interrupted him with a little shriek of exasperation, and a stamp of her foot.

“Oh dear, oh dear, everything is contrairy this day!  I’d have ye to know, Mr. Brennan, that I’d be long sorry to cry for you—­if ye was to go down on your two knees I’d never have ye!  I know the kind o’ young man ye are now, an’ I’ll not fret after ye.  I couldn’t help cryin’ at first at the disrespectful way ye were afther treatin’ me, but I wouldn’t have anything to say to ye now for the whole world.”