step in the hall, followed by a howl and a polite objurgation. A
strange dog had passed the night under Francesca's bed, and the
porter was giving him what he called 'a good hand and fut
downstairs.' He had put down the hot water for this operation, and
on taking up the burden again we heard him exclaim: "Arrah! look at
that now! May the divil fly away with the excommunicated ould jug!"
It was past saving, the jug, and leaked so freely that one had to be
exceedingly nimble to put to use any of the smoky water in it.
"Thim fools o' turf do nothing but smoke on me," apologised the
venerable servitor, who then asked, "would we be pleased to order
breakquist." We were wise in our generation, and asked for nothing
but bacon, eggs, and tea; and after a smoky bath and a change of
raiment we seated at our repast in the coffee-room, feeling
wonderfully fresh and cheerful. By looking directly at each other
most of the time, and making experimental journeys from plate to
mouth, thus barring out any intimate knowledge of the tablecloth and
the waiter's linen, we managed to make a breakfast. Francesca is
enough to give any one a good appetite. Ronald Macdonald will be a
lucky fellow, I think, to begin his day by sitting opposite her, for
her eyes shine like those of a child, and one's gaze lingers fondly
on the cool freshness of her cheek. Breakfast over and the bill
settled, we speedily shook off as much of the dust of Mrs. Duddy's
hotel as could be shaken off, and departed on the most decrepit
sidecar that ever rolled on two wheels, being wished a safe journey
by a slatternly maid who stood in the doorway, by the wide Mrs.
Duddy herself, who realised in her capacious person the picturesque
Irish phrase, 'the full-of-the-door of a woman,' and by our friend
the head waiter, who leaned against Mrs. Duddy's ancestral pillars
in such a way that the morning sun shone full upon his costume and
revealed its weaknesses to our reluctant gaze.