ill.

"'But I must,' she urged. 'I never go to bed without saying my
prayers on my knees.'

"I forbade her doing it; she closed her eyes, and I came away.
Isn't she quaint?"

At this juncture we heard the thud of a soft falling body, and
rushing in we found that the Derelict had crept from her bed to her
knees, and had probably not prayed more than two minutes before she
fainted for the fifth or sixth time in twenty-four hours. Salemina
was vexed, angel and philanthropist though she is. Francesca and I
were so helpless with laughter that we could hardly lift the too
conscientious maiden into bed. The situation may have been
pathetic; to the truly pious mind it would indeed have been
indescribably touching, but for the moment the humorous side of it
was too much for our self-control. Salemina, in rushing for
stimulants and smelling salts, broke her only comfortable
eyeglasses, and this accident, coupled with her other anxieties and
responsibilities, caused her to shed tears, an occurrence so
unprecedented that Francesca and I kissed and comforted her and
tucked her up on the sofa. Then we sent for the doctor, gave our
opera tickets to the head waiter and chambermaid, and settled down
to a cheerful home evening, our first in Ireland.

"If Himself were here, we should not be in this plight," I sighed.

"I don't know how you can say that," responded Salemina, with
considerable spirit. "You know perfectly well that if your husband