a cupboard, an' never stir a stir till morning."

"It couldn't be done, darlin'," whispered
Hughie. " Ye must put a bold face on it, an'
take your chance."

He opened the door wide, and Ailsie felt
herself swallowed up in a blaze of light and
colour, with a hum in her ears as of a thousand
bees all buzzing round her head at once. When
she recovered from her first stunned sensation,
and regained consciousness of her own identity,
she found herself seated side by side with the
five Miss MacQuillans from Bally Scuffling,
all dressed in their grass-coloured satin, all with
their noses redder than ever, all eyeing her
askance from her comb to her brogues, and
tittering just as the servants had done in the hall.

A band was playing, and a crowd of people were
dancing, but it seemed to Ailsie, whenever she
looked up, that nobody had got anything to do
but to stare at her. When she saw the elegant
slippers of the dancers she was afraid to stir
lest the " hammerin' " of her feet should be
heard all over the room; and when MacQuillan
of the Reek came up to her, and, making a low
bow, begged the honour of dancing with her,
Ailsie's ears began to sing with confusion, and
her teeth to chatter with fright. But as she did
not know how to refuse, she got up and
accompanied him to where there was an empty
space on the floor. The band was playing a
lively tune as a quadrille, and Ailsie, thinking
anything better than standing still, fell to
dancing her familiar jig with energy. She had
once slapped this gentleman's face for his
impertinence, and she believed that he had now
led her out to avenge himself by her confusion.
So Ailsie danced her jig, and finding that the
clatter of her brogues was drowned by the
music, she gained courage and danced it with
spirit, round and round her astonished partner,
till the lookers-on cried " Brava!" and the
laugh was turned against MacQuillan of the
Reek, who was, after all, very glad when she
made him her curtsey, and allowed him to take
her back again to the Balley Scuffling maidens,
who had not been dancing at all, and who held
up their five fans before their five faces in
disgust at Ailsie's performance.

A magic word, supper, acted like a charm on
all there. The crowd thinned and disappeared,
and nobody noticed Ailsie. Every gentleman had
his own partner to attend to, and no one came
near the little peasant girl. Ailsie was very
glad, for she would rather endure hunger than
be laughed at, and she was just beginning to
nod asleep in her seat, when in came Hughie.

"I'm goin' to fetch you somethin' to ate,
darlin'," he said, and hurried away again. And
Ailsie was just beginning to nod asleep once
more, when in came MacQuillan of the Reek,
saying that Lady Betty had sent him to conduct
her (Ailsie) to the supper-room.

Lady Betty was sitting at the head of the
most distant table, with a knife in her hand, and
a huge cake before her. The more substantial
eatables seemed to have been already discussed,
for every guest had a slice of this cake on a plate
before him or her. They were nibbling it, and
mincing it up with knives. All were silent, and
all looked anxious and dissatisfied. Ailsie
thought the silence and the dissatisfaction was
all on account of her audacious entrance.

"This way!" said Lady Betty MacQuillan, in
a voice that made Ailsie start, and the august
hostess cleared a place at her side for our
blushing heroine. The wax-lights blazed on
Lady Betty's golden turban, and Ailsie did not
dare to look at her face. She sat down, and Lady
Betty with her own hand helped her to a small
cut of the wonderful cake. Ailsie was very
hungry, and the cake was very good. She
devoured a few morsels eagerly; then she ceased
eating.

"Why don't you eat, child?" said Lady Betty,
in a voice that again made Ailsie start; and this
time she ventured to look up.

She looked up, and stared as if the clouds had
opened above her head. There was a little
withered yellow face, with twinkling black
eyes, looking down on her—a face that she had
seen before. It was Penny McCambridge, from
Lough Neagh side, who was to have been her
godmother only for the unfortunate pain in her
heel, who was sitting there, dressed up in purple
velvet and a cloth of gold turban. Oh, murther!
What would be the end of this? Penny
McCambridge befooling all the gentry folks of
the country round, pretending to be the lady of
Castle Craigie! Or, stay! Whether was Penny
McCambridge acting Lady Betty MacQuillan,
or had Lady Betty MacQuillan been acting
Penny McCambridge?

"Why don't you eat, child?" repeated Lady
Betty, as Ailsie sat turning her piece of cake
about on her plate.

"I'm hungry enough," said Ailsie, " but I
cannot ate this, my lady, barrin' you want me
to choke mysel'!"

And Ailsie held up her bit of cake in which
was wedged the ring that declared her the
heiress of Castle Craigie.

Well, I need not tell how after supper some
of the guests who were spiteful ordered their
carriages and whirled away in disgust; how
others, who were not spiteful, stayed and
danced the morning in; how some, who were
good natured, congratulated Ailsie on her good
luck; how others, who were quite the reverse,
yet fawned on the bewildered heroine of the
evening. How Ailsie was kept close by the
wonderful Lady Betty all the rest of the time;
how she watched in vain for another glimpse of
Hughie; how, in the end, she was conducted to a
splendid bedchamber, where she was frightened
out of her senses at the grandeur of the furniture,
and could not get a wink of sleep for the
softness of the stately bed.

The news was not long in travelling over the
country, and next day, when a carriage dashed
up to the foot of the lonan, Jamie and his wife
thought they were prepared to receive their
fortunate daughter with dignity. But when
Ailsie walked in to them in a white pelisse and