o-night."

She spoke in a low voice, and he replied in the same tone, drawing her
back from the crowd, who were all talking together.

"Look here, Biddy Dillon," he said; "the girl must lave that grand
house and come home to live here with you."

"Lave Miss Annie, do ye mane, sir?"

"Small hope for her sowl an' she do not."

"And few are the pennies I can bring to yer riverence when the child
has no wages to bring home o' a Saturday. Sorra a hap'orth to spare
will I find; it's no me two hands alone can find bread for the mouths
o' all, and--"

"Stuff and nonsense!" interrupted the priest; "there's many another
place can be had for a sthrong, likely lass like her. Good servants
are not over plenty, and she can be better placed."

"But where, I would like ye to tell? It's in a Protestant family she
must be, an' she goes out to service at all."

"Yes; but they'll let her alone in some houses. Sorra a bit do the
most o' them care what becomes o' the sowl, an' the work be done to
their liking. Our Lady be praised! it's to the far counthrees that the
Protestant missionaries are sent, and the silver is given; for
one-half o' the pains taken wi' the poor crathurs who work in their
kitchens would have ruined us all."

"Yer riverence spakes thrue, to be shure," said Biddy; "but for all
that, it will never be a bit o' use to thry to make a good Catholic o'
Norah, now that she can read the big books and talk so bravely
herself. An' it were to be the savin' o' her life, she would never
confess to a praste again, or take the holy wafer from his hands. But
if ye would take it aisy and lave it to me, and persuade these
meddlesome boobies to mind their own particular business, and
throuble us no more, it's meself would be sure to bring the handsome
sum to yer riverence when I come to confession. Contrariwise, you see,
and you kape fussing, and they kape fussing, it's all loss it is to
ye, and no gain."

The priest's countenance brightened perceptibly. He seemed much
impressed with Biddy's view of the case, and was not slow to perceive
its worldly wisdom. So, after addressing the waiting company to some
purpose, he left them.

But Biddy sat thoughtfully in a corner, with her lame boy. She had, in
her conversation with the priest, cunningly hit on an expedient to
propitiate him for a time, but she was ill at ease. She could not at
once throw off the chains of teaching that had bound her all her life;
and so dim was the ligh