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"Why do you hate me. Dido?",Struggling to his feet, his eyes almost blinded, smarting with the sting of the smoke, he dashed headlong into the flaming door.,That he—who has known so many seasons, and passed through the practised hands of some of the prettiest women this world can afford, heart-whole, and without a scratch—should fall a victim to the innocent wiles of a little merry Irish girl of no family whatever, seems too improbable even of belief, however lovely beyond description this girl may be (and is), with her wistful, laughing, mischievous Irish eyes, and her mobile lips, and her disposition half angelic, half full of fire and natural coquetry.,It is a very curious little room they enter,—yet pretty, withal, and suggestive of care and affection, and certainly not one to be laughed at. Each object that meets the view seems replete with pleasurable memory,—seems part of its gentle mistress. There are two windows, small, and with diamond panes like the parlor, and in the far end is a piano. There are books, and some ornaments, and a huge bowl of sweetly-smelling flowers on the centre-table, and a bracket or two against the walls. Some loose music is lying on a chair.,Mr Lawrence led the way below.,“No; I can’t recall what I said.”,The great dog rose and came slowly across to him. "Good boy!" Billy slapped him roughly on the shoulder, and he whined.,The hearty old gentleman sighed, and his eyes reposed in thought upon the face of Lucy.,The very air is still. There is no sound, no motion, save the coming and going of their own breath as it rises quickly from their hearts, filled full of passionate admiration for the loveliness before them.,But no sooner had they come into the little kitchen where Tellef’s mother was roasting coffee over an open fire than John said:,CHAPTER XI GOOD-NIGHT IN THE FO’CASTLE,“Where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?.