cigarette alight.

"Well, and isn't she quite right, too?" said Barty. "I've no great
fancy for Father Greer, but that doesn't affect my feeling for the
Church."

He rose, and resting his elbows on the window-sill, leaned out into
the still air.

"By Jingo! You don't often see the beat o' that for a sky! Look at it,
Larry. There's Orange and Green for you, if you like! God! I wish
_we_ could get them to work together like that!"

One of those transformation scenes that sometimes follow on an
overcast and rainy day, was happening in the west. The sun had sunk
behind the hills, the grey clouds had vanished; the higher heaven was
green, clear and pale, but low in the west, long and fleecy rollers of
golden cloud lay in a sea of burning orange.

At about the same time, the golden stream that had flowed so
generously from Mrs. Mangan's purse, had failed, and Mrs. Mangan, her
arms full of the fruit of those Christian graces of Faith, Hope and
Charity, that are indispensable to the success of a _bazaar_, was
asking Evans to order for her her "caw," by which term she indicated
the vehicle that had conveyed her to the scene of her triumph.

For it was evident to the meanest capacity that Mrs. Mangan had now
paid her footing in society.