went out like snuffs: that is what happens. What are you putting on your
best hat for?"

"That is no affair of yours."

"Oh, hoity-toity, how grand we are! Do you know, Alice, you haven't got
at all nice manners. You think you have, but you haven't. We are never
rude like that in Ireland. We tell a few lies now and then, but they are
only _polite_ lies--the kind that make other people happy. Alice, I
should like to know which is best--to be horribly cross, or to tell nice
polite lies. Which is the most wicked? I should like to know."

"Then I will tell you," said Alice. "What you call a nice lie is just a
very great and awful sin; and if you don't believe me, go to church and
listen when the commandments are read."

"In future," said Kathleen very calmly, "now that I really know your
views, I will always tell you _home truths_. You can't blame me, can
you?"

Alice deigned no answer. She went downstairs and let herself out of the
house.

"And that is the sort of girl I have exchanged for daddy and the mother
and the boys," thought the Irish girl. "Oh, dear! oh, dear!"

Kathleen flew downstairs. It was nearly three o'clock; tea was to be on
the table at half-past four. Quick as thought she dashed into the
kitchen.