"Oh, don't begin that," said Nora; "every time I see you you mention
that fact. I have not the slightest doubt that the old kings were
ruffians, and dressed abominably."

"If you dare," said Biddy. She rushed up to the bed, dragged out her
pillow, and held it in a warlike attitude. "Another word about my
ancestors, and this will be at your devoted head!" she cried.

Nora burst into a merry laugh.

"There, now, that's better," said Biddy. She dropped the pillow and
proceeded with her toilet. The dirty skirt with its tawdry flounces
was surmounted by a bodice of the same material, equally unsuitable.

Biddy brushed out her mop of jet-black hair, which grew in thick curls
all over her head and stood out like a mop round her shoulders. She was
a plain girl, with small, very black eyes, a turned-up nose, and a wide
mouth; but there was an irresistible expression of drollery in her face,
and when she laughed, showing her milk-white teeth, there were people
who even thought her attractive. Nora really loved her, although the
two, standing side by side, were, as far as appearances were concerned,
as the poles asunder.

"Now, come along," said Biddy. "I know I look perfectly charming. Oh,
what a sweet, sweet blue it is, and these ducky little flounces! It
was Aunt Mary O'Flannagan sent me this dress at Christmas. She wore
it at a fancy ball, and said it might suit me. It does, down to the
ground. Let me drop a courtesy to you, Nora O'Shanaghgan. Oh, how
proper we look! But I don't care! Now I'm not afraid to face anyone--why,
the old kings would have been proud of me. Come along--do."