"What's the matter with yees? Where are ye going?"

With quivering lips, and face white with alarm, Mrs. Lane
replied--"Oh, ma'am! get me my things and let me go."

"Ye can go when ye pays yer bill, in welcome," replied the woman.

"How much is it?"

"It's a dollar and a half."

The Irishwoman looked steadily at Mrs. Lane, and saw, by the change
in her countenance, what she had expected, that she had not as much
money in her possession.

"Won't a dollar pay you?" asked Mrs. Lane, after standing with her
eyes upon the floor for some moments. "I've had nothing but my
night's lodging and surely a dollar will pay for that."

"Indade and it won't, then! Sure, and yer breakfast was got. If ye
didn't ate it, I'm not to fault.

"Here is a dollar," said Mrs. Lane, taking out her purse. "I'm sure
it's full pay for all I've received."

"And d'ye mane to call me an ould chate, ye spalpeen, ye!"
indignantly replied the landlady, her face growing red with anger,
while she raised her huge fist and shook it at her terrified guest,
who retreated back into the parlour, and sank, trembling, into a