out late, or I miss my guess," and out rolled another
laugh.

Kitty looked after the two until they disappeared
through the smaller door, then turned and faced
Kling. "I know just what's happened, Otto--a baby
a month old could see it all. That man is up against
it for the first time. He'd rather die than beg, and he'll
keep on sellin' his traps until there's nothin' left but
the clothes he stands in. He may be a duke, for all ye
know, or maybe only a plain Irish gentleman come to
grief. Them bottles ye showed me last night had arms
engraved on 'em, and his initials. I noticed partic'lar,
for I've seen them things before. My father, when
he was young, was second groom for a lord and used to
tell me about the silver in the house and the arms on the
sides of the carriages. What he's left home for the
dear God only knows; but it will come out, and when
it does it won't be what anybody thinks. And he's got
a fine way wid him, and a clear look out of his eye, and
I'll bet ye he's tellin' the truth and all of it. Here they
come now, and I'm glad they've got rid of that rag baby
of Bobby's." She turned to her husband. "And, John,
dear, don't forget that sewing-machine--oh, yes, I see,
you've got it in the wagon--go on wid ye, then!--
Well, Mr. O'Day, how is it? Purty small and cramped,
ain't it? And there's a chair missin' that I took downstairs,
which I'll put back. And there's a cotton cover
belongs to the table. Won't suit, will it?" and a shade
of disappointment crossed her face.