glance of her brown eyes, while eager muzzles wormed into her hand: 'Is this quite irrevocable? The house will be so dull without you.' 'I would stay if you really wished it,' blurted out the inflammable youth, pinching a cold nose till the dog--its owner--broke away howling. 'You know there is nothing I would not do to please you, Doreen!' 'Is there not?' she returned, with a ring of bitterness, for she was too straightforward to feel aught but impatience for idle protestations. 'To please me, would you give up all for Erin, as Theobald has done? No--you would not. A fine-weather sailor, Terence! _You_ give up anything, who have all your life been lapped in luxury--and why should you? Thanks to Mr. Curran, the legal ball is at your foot, and you only need to work to become rich and happy. But I shall be sorry to miss your bright face, for all that.' A second flash, as of a burn in sunlight, carried the lad beyond his usual prudence. With disconcerting suddenness he seized her hand and brought his flushed cheek close to hers. 'Doreen!' he gasped. 'If you will love me and be my wife, I will do anything and bear anything. You've only to direct. I'm poor I know, but I will work, for I am capable of better things if I have an object.' But Miss Wolfe, though far from a coquette, was gifted with presence of mind. Her intention had been not to provoke an untoward declaration such as would exasperate her aunt, and, possibly, Lord Glandore; but to use this impulsive swain as a bulwark of protection against the assaults of my lady. Perchance, under the circumstances, it was better that he should depart for a few months to cool his too explosive ardour. It would not do to encourage, nor yet to quarrel with him. She escaped from him therefore, holding up her pretty hands, and said demurely: 'Of course, if Mr. Curran really wishes it, you had better obey. It is a long ride for you every morning from the Abbey to the Four-courts.' The Priory, on the other side of Dublin, was about the same distance from the Four-courts, Terence thought with anger. The girl was playing with him, as she always did. 'I hope Sara will make you comfortable,' she went on. 'No doubt she will, she is so sweet a girl. Then we shall meet at Castle balls, and you shall lead me out for a rigadoon like a mere stranger. That will be funny, will it not? You don't mean what you say one bit, and it is a relief to me to know that it is all flummery--you silly, hot-pated, blarneying Pat! Come along. We will go and eat our breakfast and be thankful that we have one to eat, instead of talking nonsense. That is all that you or I are fit for, I am afraid! For it is not such as you nor I who are destined to save poor Ireland!' CHAPTER IX. THE PRIORY.