‘Ah,’ sighed the priest plaintively, ‘how rarely one meets these old full-bodied clarets nowadays. The free admission of French wines has corrupted taste and impaired palate. Our cheap Gladstones have come upon us like universal suffrage.’ ‘The masses, however, benefit,’ remarked Miller. ‘Only in the first moment of acquisition, and in the novelty of the gain,’ continued Father Luke; ‘and then they suffer irreparably in the loss of that old guidance, which once directed appreciation when there was something to appreciate.’ ‘We want the priest again, in fact,’ broke in Gorman. ‘You must admit they understand wine to perfection, though I would humbly hope, young gentleman,’ said the Father modestly, ‘to engage your good opinion of them on higher grounds.’ ‘Give yourself no trouble in the matter, Father Luke,’ broke in Miss Betty. ‘Gorman’s Austrian lessons have placed him beyond _your_ teaching.’ ‘My dear aunt, you are giving the Imperial Government a credit it never deserved. They taught me as a cadet to groom my horse and pipeclay my uniform, to be respectful to my corporal, and to keep my thumb on the seam of my trousers when the captain’s eye was on me; but as to what passed inside my mind, if I had a mind at all, or what I thought of Pope, Kaiser, or Cardinal, they no more cared to know it than the name of my sweetheart.’ ‘What a blessing to that benighted country would be one liberal statesman!’ exclaimed Miller: ‘one man of the mind and capacity of our present Premier!’ ‘Heaven forbid!’ cried Gorman. ‘We have confusion enough, without the reflection of being governed by what you call here “healing measures.”’ ‘I should like to discuss that point with you,’ said Miller. ‘Not now, I beg,’ interposed Miss O’Shea. ‘Gorman, will you decant another bottle?’ ‘I believe I ought to protest against more wine,’ said the priest, in his most insinuating voice; ‘but there are occasions where the yielding to temptation conveys a moral lesson.’ ‘I suspect that I cultivate my nature a good deal in that fashion,’ said Gorman, as he opened a fresh bottle. ‘This is perfectly delicious,’ said Miller, as he sipped his glass; ‘and if I could venture to presume so far, I would ask leave to propose a toast.’ ‘You have my permission, sir,’ said Miss Betty, with stateliness. ‘I drink, then,’ said he reverently, ‘I drink to the long life, the good health, and the unbroken courage of the Holy Father.’ There was something peculiarly sly in the twinkle of the priest’s black eye as he filled his bumper, and a twitching motion of the corner of his mouth continued even as he said, ‘To the Pope.’ ‘The Pope,’ said Gorman as he eyed his wine-- ‘“Der Papst lebt herrlich in der Welt.”’ ‘What are you muttering there?’ asked his aunt fiercely. ‘The line of an old song, aunt, that tells us how his Holiness has a jolly time of it.’ ‘I fear me it must have been written in other days,’ said Father Luke.