'No more do I,' returned calm Miss Wolfe. Cassidy's looks sought the ground--his big hand fondled the muzzles of the dogs. After a long pause, he said in a low voice: 'If you don't care about him it's small blame to you.' 'Neither for him, nor anybody else.' (The slightest contraction of a fine nostril.) 'Don't say that, Miss Doreen, darlint,' said the giant, quickly. 'There's many a stout fellow about, whose heart it would plase if ye'd rub your pretty brogues on it, who'd like to set fire to the tobaccy in his pipe every blessed day by the light of your lovely eyes.' Doreen glanced up at the giant with an amused smile. 'Fie! Mr. Cassidy. If I didn't think you too sensible a man, I should believe you were trying to propose to me.' Then it struck her that it was on this very spot that Terence had asked if he might hope. 'What possesses the men? How odd it is,' she said, thinking aloud. 'Fate settled long since that I was to die an old maid; and everybody seems to want to marry me. Why? I am surely not so irresistible? There are scores of girls who would be delighted to marry any one, but somehow nobody cares to ask them! Why not try Norah Gillin--Shane at least thinks her a paragon--and she has the advantage of being a Protestant.' 'Miss Doreen,' Cassidy whispered, 'if I undertook to work heart and soul for the cause you care so much for; if I made use of my opportunities--went about for you--as your agents do (you see I know all about it); if, when the hour comes, I promised to risk my life and all I have for you--'tisn't much--would you change your mind then?' Miss Wolfe felt his hot breath upon her hair, and began to feel uncomfortable. It was her own fault. She should have cried 'Down!' to this importunate dog before. 'Mr. Cassidy,' she said, with the quiet dignity which was her best protection, 'you show yourself in a false light. You belong to the society--I fully believe--from conviction of the holiness of its aims. Although a Protestant, you are an Irishman, as I am an Irishwoman. Our wrongs are common. Don't let me suppose you to be suggesting a bargain.' 'It is that good-for-nothing young councillor!' the giant muttered, grinding his teeth fiercely. 'If I was sure of it, I'd run him through! Have a care, young lady; don't trifle with honest men--or wigs will be on the green, and you may be sorry!' The interview was becoming extremely painful. Cassidy, when tried, was showing the cloven foot, as under-bred persons will. Miss Wolfe drew herself up to her full height, knitted her dark brows, and said coldly: