I AM PANIC-STRICKEN. 151

of the young ones I think it was; I don’t
think as I knows her name,—no, no, sir,” he
adds suddenly, “it’s no mistake, take my
word for it; James Mullins is not the man
to go and make such a mistake!”

It is then as I feared, and I sink down
upon the soft mat in a shivering heap,
doubled up with silent fear and misery.

“So this is the end of all my success!” I
eroan; “oh dear, oh dear, Pl never touch
another rose as long as I live; if only the
earth would open and swallow—”

The door is suddenly thrown open, and
before I can move an inch Father strides
literally over me, and only saves himself
from measuring his length along the floor by
catching wildly at the hat-stand.

I am too wretched to scream (although he
trod upon my foot unmercifully), or make
any sound at all, so Father stands and looks
down upon me with silent wonder. I believe
he thinks I have lost my senses.

“Well, this is ladylike behaviour,” he says
at length; ‘“‘pray, have you been to sleep here?”