“Proceed, dearest love,” said he; “what is it?” “I have not time to tell you now,” she replied, “but he mentioned a project to me which, if it could be accomplished, would seal both your happiness and mine forever. Your religion is the only obstacle.” “And that, my love,” he replied, “is an insurmountable one.” “Alas! I feared as much,” she replied, sighing bitterly as she spoke. The old squire took the head of the table, and requested Sir Robert to take the foot; his daughter was at his right hand, and Reilly opposite her, by which means, although denied any confidential use of the tongue, their eyes enjoyed very gratifying advantages, and there passed between them occasionally some of those rapid glances which, especially when lovers are under surveillance, concentrate in their lightning flash more significance, more hope, more joy, and more love, than ever was conveyed by the longest and tenderest gaze of affection under other circumstances. “Mr. Reilly,” said the squire, “I'm told that you are a very well educated man; indeed, the thing is evident. What, let me ask, is your opinion of education in general?” “Why, sir,” replied Reilly, “I think there can be but one opinion about it. Without education a people can never be moral, prosperous, or happy. Without it, how are they to learn the duties of this life, or those still more important ones that prepare them for a better?” “You would entrust the conduct and control of it, I presume, sir, to the clergy?” asked Sir Robert insidiously. “I would give the priest such control in education as becomes his position, which is not only to educate the youth, but to instruct the man, in all the duties enjoined by religion.” The squire now gave a triumphant look at the baronet, and a very kind and gracious one at Reilly. “Pray, sir,” continued the baronet, in his cold, supercilious manner, “from the peculiarity of your views, I feel anxious, if you will pardon me, to ask where you yourself have received your very accomplished education.” “Whether my education, sir, has been an accomplished one or otherwise,” replied Reilly, “is a point, I apprehend, beyond the reach of any opportunity you ever had to know. I received my education, sir, such as it is, and if it be not better the fault is my own, in a Jesuit seminary on the Continent.” It was now the baronet's time to triumph; and indeed the bitter glancing look he gave at the squire, although it was intended for Reilly, resembled that which one of the more cunning and ferocious beasts of prey makes previous to its death-spring upon its victim. The old man's countenance instantly fell. He looked with surprise, not unmingled with sorrow and distrust, at Reilly, a circumstance which did not escape his daughter, who could not, for the life of her, avoid fixing her eyes, lovelier even in the disdain they expressed, with an indignant look at the baronet.