in obeying the orders given him. He then made a tumbler of punch,
filling the glass half full of spirits, and drinking it so hot as to
scald his throat; and when that was done he again rang the bell, and
desired the servant to tell Miss Anty that he wanted to speak to her.
When the door was shut, he mixed more drink, to support his courage
during the interview, and made up his mind that nothing should daunt
him from preventing the marriage, in one way or another. When Anty
opened the door, he was again standing with his back to the fire, his
hands in his pockets, the flaps of his coat hanging over his arms, his
shoulders against the mantel-piece, and his foot on the chair on which
he had been sitting. His face was red, and his eyes were somewhat
blood-shot; he had always a surly look, though, from his black hair,
and large bushy whiskers, many people would have called him good
looking; but now there was a scowl in his restless eyes, which
frightened Anty when she saw it; and the thick drops of perspiration
on his forehead did not add benignity to his face.

"Were you wanting me, Barry?" said Anty, who was the first to speak.

"What do you stand there for, with the door open?" replied her brother,
"d' you think I want the servants to hear what I've got to say?"

"'Deed I don't know," said Anty, shutting the door; "but they'll hear
just as well now av' they wish, for they'll come to the kay-hole."

"Will they, by G----!" said Barry, and he rushed to the door, which
he banged open; finding no victim outside on whom to exercise his
wrath--"let me catch 'em!" and he returned to his position by the fire.

Anty had sat down on a sofa that stood by the wall opposite the