ercely toward her. "You
won't cheat me with words like these."

Annorah tossed her head scornfully and sat down opposite the priest,
who on his part seemed far less desirous to carry on the war since her
arrival. The cottage that he occupied belonged to Mr. Lee, and judging
that gentleman by his own heart, he feared that an unfavourable
representation of the case to him might either increase his rent or
turn him out altogether. Besides, he was not unlike blusterers, and
could denounce the erring with greater ease when they stood in awe of
him. That Annorah felt neither fear nor reverence for him, it was easy
to see. So, smothering his wrath, he began, to the great surprise of
Mrs. Dillon, to address the girl in his most coaxing tones.

"Come, come, Annorah," he said, "let us be friends. It's me that's
ould enough, and willing too, to be to you in place o' yer own
father, Heaven rest his sowl; but he's gone to a better counthree than
this sinful world. An' yer own good, child, is what I think on in
spaking to you of Miss Annie and the heretics generally. It's not for
meself, shure, that me prayers go up at the could midnight hour whin
ye're all sleeping in quiet. It's not me own throubles that make me
dream o' Heaven's wrath, but it's me care for yer sowl, Annorah, and
for the sake o' yer gettin' saved at last."

"Hear that, Norah, child," said her mother. "Who else ever fretted
themselves for yer good? What would become o' ye, an' Father M'Clane
gave ye up entirely?

"Your riverence must stay till I draw the tae and fry a bit o' the
chicken," added Biddy, as the priest rose to take his leave.

"No, thank you," he replied; "I must not sit down at ease. Small rest
is there for me when the wolf is in the fold, and the flock is in
danger."

He took leave quite cordially, but when he was gone, Biddy turned,
with a shadow on her round face, to speak to her daughter.

"An' what's this ye've been doing, child? Is it me own ears that have
heard o' yer Bible-reading and railing at the praste? What's coom to
ye now? Didn't I warn ye against their heretic ways? An' ye've been
and fallen into the dape pit as aisy as a blind sheep. Och! for shame,
Annorah Dillon! Why do ye not spake? What can ye say for yourself?"

"Mother," said Annorah, "how often you've said, when Larry O'Neale's
good luck has been tould of, that it was the larnin', shure, that did
it all! An' when we were over the great water, you said, 'How nice and
co