“What’s the matter with yees?  Where are ye going?”

With quivering lips, and face white with alarm, Mrs. Lane replied—­“Oh, ma’am! get me my things and let me go.”

“Ye can go when ye pays yer bill, in welcome,” replied the woman.

“How much is it?”

“It’s a dollar and a half.”

The Irishwoman looked steadily at Mrs. Lane, and saw, by the change in her countenance, what she had expected, that she had not as much money in her possession.

“Won’t a dollar pay you?” asked Mrs. Lane, after standing with her eyes upon the floor for some moments.  “I’ve had nothing but my night’s lodging and surely a dollar will pay for that.”

“Indade and it won’t, then!  Sure, and yer breakfast was got.  If ye didn’t ate it, I’m not to fault.

“Here is a dollar,” said Mrs. Lane, taking out her purse.  “I’m sure it’s full pay for all I’ve received.”

“And d’ye mane to call me an ould chate, ye spalpeen, ye!” indignantly replied the landlady, her face growing red with anger, while she raised her huge fist and shook it at her terrified guest, who retreated back into the parlour, and sank, trembling, into a chair.

“As if I wasn’t an honest woman,” continued the virago, following Mrs. Lane.  “As if I’d extort on a lone woman!  Give me patience!  When ye pays the dollar and a half, ye can go; but not a foot shall ye take from my door until then.”

A scuffle took place in the bar-room at that moment, attended by a new eruption of oaths and imprecations.

Quickly sprinting from her chair, Mrs. Lane, with Mary in her arms, glided from the room, and ran panting up-stairs to her chamber, the door of which she locked behind her on entering.

Half an hour of as calm reflection as it was possible for Mrs. Lane to make brought her to the resolution to leave the house at all hazards.  Where she was to go, was to be an afterthought.  The greatest evil was to remain; after escaping that, she would consider the means of avoiding what followed.  Putting on her bonnet and shawl, and taking her basket, she went down-stairs with her child, determined, if possible, to get away unobserved, and after doing so, to send back, by any means that offered, the only dollar she possessed in the world to the landlady.  No one met her on the stairs, and she passed the parlour-door unobserved.  But, alas! the street-door was found locked and the key withdrawn.  After a few ineffectual attempts to open it, Mrs. Lane went into the parlour, and, standing there, debated for some moments whether she should leave the house by passing through the bar-room, or wait for another opportunity to get away by the private en-trance.  While still bewildered and undetermined the landlady came in from the bar-room.

The moment she saw her guest, she comprehended the purpose in her mind.

“Where are ye going?” said she in a quick sharp voice, the blood rising to her coarse sensual face.