“Yes, sir,” chimed in Magennis; “and she 's trying hard to bring back the old feudal devotion to the Chief, which was the bane of Ireland. She wants the tenants to have no will of their own, but just to vote whatever the landlord tells them. She had the impudence to tell my 'august leader' that they had no need of him down there,--that the county was too poor to waste its energies in factious squabbles.” “If she 'd let the people alone about their religion, I 'd think better of her,” said Father Neal. “What does _she_ know about controversial points and disputed dogmas?” “Maybe you 're wrong about that,” broke in Peter Hayes. “She came to me the other day for ten shillings for a school, and she said, 'Come over, Mr. Hayes; come and tell me if there 's anything you are dissatisfied with.'” “And did you go?” asked the priest. “Faix! I did not,” said Peter, with a dry look. “I thought the visit might cost me ten shillings, and so I stayed at home.” The manner in which he uttered these words produced a hearty laugh, in which he himself most good-humoredly took part. “Well, she's good to the poor, anyhow,” said Brierley; “and it's a new thing for one of her name to be so!” “All policy, all scheming!” said Magennis. “She sees how the family influence has declined, and is fast becoming obliterated in this country, by reason of their worthlessness, insolence, and neglect of the people; and she 's just shrewd enough to see how far a little cajolery goes with poor Paddy; but, as my 'august leader' observed, it is not a frieze coat, nor a pair of brogues, that can compensate for the loss of that freedom that is every man's birthright; and it is not by an ounce of tea, or a dose of physic, we 'll ever see Ireland great, glorious, and free.” “'First gem of the earth, and first flower of the sea!'” exclaimed Hayes, with enthusiasm. Nor in the moment was the blunder of his quotation noticed by any but Massingbred. “You are an admirer of Tommy Moore, I see, sir?” said he, to the old man. “I am fond of 'The Meeting of the Waters,' sir,” said Hayes, meekly, and like a man who was confessing to a weakness. “And here 's the man to sing it!” cried Brierley, clapping the priest familiarly on the shoulder; a proposal that was at once hailed with acclamation. “'T is many a long day I have n't sung a note,” said Father Neal, modestly. “Come, come, Father Neal; we'll not let you off that way. It's not under this roof that you can make such an excuse!” “He 'd rather give us something more to his own taste,” said Brierley. “'To Ladies' eyes around, boys,'--eh, Father Rafferty?” “That's my favorite of all the songs he sings,” broke in Magennis. “Let it be, 'To Ladies' eyes!'” cried Massingbred; “and we 'll drink 'Miss Martin's.' 'I 'll warrant she 'll prove an excuse for the glass.'” And he sang the line with such a mellow cadence that the whole table cheered him. [Illustration: 146]