Eileen turned red. It was too disconcerting. Would he never take "no" for an answer? "I won't see him. I can't see him," she cried.

 

The girl departed and returned. "Oh, Miss O'Keeffe, he begs so for only one word."

 

"The word is 'no.'"

 

"After he's been so kind as to bring your box down!"

 

"Oh, has he? Then the word is 'thanks.'"

 

"Please, miss, would you mind giving it to him yourself?"

 

"Who's Irish, you or I? I won't speak to him at all, I tell you."

 

"But I don't like to send him away like that, when he's been so kind to mother."

 

"When has he been kind to your mother?"

 

"Those grapes you brought--"

 

"That was old Mr. Maper."

 

"So is this."

 

"Oh!" Eileen was quite taken aback, for once. "All right, I'll go into the parlour."

 

He was infinitely courteous and apologetic. He had been very anxious about her. Why had she been so unkind as to leave, and without ever a good-by to him?

 

"Oh, hasn't your wife told you, then?"

 

"She has told me you were rude, and that you left without notice, and she wants me to prosecute you. I suppose you lost your temper. You found her rather difficult."

 

"I found her impossible," said Eileen, frigidly.

 

"Yes, yes, I understand." He was flushed and unhappy. "You found her impossible to live with?"

 

Eileen nodded; she would have added "or to make a lady of," but he looked so purple and agitated that she charitably forbore. She was wondering whether Mrs. Maper could really have been so mean as to omit her share in the quarrel, but he went on eagerly:--

 

"Quite so, quite so. And what do you think it has been for me?"

 

She murmured inarticulate sympathy.

 

"Ah, if you only knew! Oh, my dear Miss O'Keeffe, while you've been in the house, it's been like heaven."

 

"I'm glad I've given satisfaction," she said drily.

 

"Then what do you give by going? I assure ............