It was an exceptional and painful incident, but it vindicated both priests and people from the unworthy sneers to which I have just alluded. You are familiar with the meeting in Dublin held under the presidency of a Protestant lord mayor, and the resolution enthusiastically adopted that the true remedy for the evils of Ireland was an Irish Parliament. And now, Mr. Hawthorne, having given you an owre true but also an owre lang tale, I am happy to find ourselves within hail of the hospitable roof of Kilkenley, and—yes, to be sure, there are the ladies awaiting our arrival upon the steps.” “Av that discoorse isn’t aiqual to the House o’ Lords, I’m an _omadhaun_,” was Peter’s muttered observation as we rattled gaily up to the house. * * * * * “Papa is enchanted with the priest,” said Miss Hawthorne. It was just before dinner, and we were standing upon a small balcony overlooking the lawn. The moon was rising in all the consciousness of her harvest beauty. “I am so glad.” “He says that his reverence has the Irish question at his fingers’ ends, and gave him more information than a dozen Commons debates or ten dozen editions of Hansard. We are going over to visit Father O’Dowd, are we not?” What induced me to say: “I shall send you with great pleasure”? “Send us! Are you not coming?” “I fear not. Welstone will go. He is much better company.” What a boy I was! She looked at me in a puzzled, inquiring sort of way. “What a glorious moon!” I said, bitterness in my heart. “Don’t you find it a little chilly?” was her reply, as she turned into the drawing-room. My own, shall I call it temper, or insanity, or what? lost me this chance, for which I had been longing with such fervent yearning. I felt terribly irritated with myself and angered against her. She should have expressed sorrow at my being prevented from going over to Father O’Dowd’s. Had she cared one brass farthing she would have declined the expedition; but instead of this she silently accepted Welstone’s ciceroneship, and exclaiming, “Don’t you find it a little chilly?” left me standing all alone, like the idiot that I was. And yet had I not acted strangely, rudely, in intimating my intention of remaining at Kilkenley? Was I not her host, and should I not make every effort within the scope of my power to render her visit as agreeable as possible?