rrigan softly but fervently
as soon as Gallagher was safely out of earshot. Gallagher stopped on his
way to the hotel to take another scornful look at Mary Ellen.

"If your father that's dead was alive this day," he said, "he'd turn you
out of the house when he seen you in them clothes."

Mary Ellen had no recollection of her father, who had died before she
was twelve months old, but she was more hopeful about him than Gallagher
seemed to be.

"He might not," she said.

Then Father McCormack appeared, walking briskly up the street from
the-presbytery. He was wearing, as Dr. O'Grady had anticipated, a silk
hat. He had a very long and voluminous frock coat. He had even, and this
marked his sense of the importance of the occasion, made creases down
the fronts of his trousers. Gallagher went to meet him.

"Good morning, Thady," said Father McCormack cheerfully. "We're in great
luck with the weather."

"Father," said Gallagher, "you were always one that was heart and soul
with the people of Ireland, and it will make you sorry, so it will,
sorry and angry, to hear what I have to tell you."

Father McCormack felt uneasy. He did not know what Gallagher meant
to tell him, but he was uncomfortably conscious that the day of the
Lord-Lieutenant's visit might be a highly inconvenient time for proving
his devotion to the cause of the people. The worst of devotion to any
cause is that it makes demands on the devotee at moments when it is most
difficult to fulfil them. Father McCormack tried feebly to put off the
evil hour.

"To-morrow, Thady, to-morrow," he said. "There isn't time now. It's
half-past eleven, and the Lord-Lieutenant may be here any minute."

"Begging your reverence's pardon," said Gallagher firmly, "but to-morrow
will be too late. The insult that is about to be offered to the people
of this locality will be offered to-day if a stop's not put to it."

"Nonsense, Thady, nonsense, nobody is going to insult us."

"You wouldn't know about it," said Gallagher, "for you'd be the last man
they'd dare to tell, knowing well that you'd be as angry as I am myself.
Do you know what the tune is that the doctor has taught to the band?"

Father McCormack did know, but he was very unwilling to enter into a
discussion of the subject with Gallagher.

"Constable Moriarty," said Gallagher, "is after telling me the name of
the tune, and you'd be surprised, so you would, if you heard it."

"You may be mistaken, Thady, you may