ghtful thing to
think that I shall be able to disabuse poor Helen's mind upon the
subject; for, I give you my honor, it caused her the greatest distress,
and excited her mind to a high pitch of indignation against you; but I
shall set all to rights."

"And now that the matter is settled, Mr. Folliard, we must have lunch. I
will give you a glass of Burgundy, which, I am sure, you will like."

"With all my heart," replied the placable and hearty old squire;
"after the agitation of the day a good glass of Burgundy will serve me
certainly."

Lunch was accordingly ordered, and the squire, after taking half a
dozen bumpers of excellent wine, got into fine spirits, shook hands as
cordially as ever with the baronet, and drove home completely relieved
from the suspicions which he had entertained.

The squire, on his return home, immediately called for his daughter, but
for some time to no purpose. The old man began to get alarmed, and had
not only Helen's room searched, but every room in the house. At length a
servant informed him that she was tending and arranging the green-house
flowers in the garden.

"Oh, ay!" said he, after he had dismissed the servants, "Thank
God--thank God! I will go out to the dear girl; for she is a dear girl,
and it is a sin to suspect her. I wish to heaven that that scoundrel
Reilly would turn Protestant, and he should have her with all the veins
of my heart. Upon my soul, putting religion out of the question, one
would think that, in other respects, they were made for each other. But
it's all this cursed pride of his that prevents him; as if it signified
what any person's religion is, provided he's an honest man, and a loyal
subject."

He thus proceeded with his soliloquy until he reached the garden, where
he found Reilly and her arranging the plants and flowers in a superb
green-house.

"Well, Helen, my love, how is the greenhouse doing? Eh! why, what is
this?"

At this exclamation the lovers started, but the old fellow was admiring
the improvement, which even he couldn't but notice.

"Why, what is this?" he proceeded; "by the light of day, Helen, you have
made this a little paradise of flowers."

"It was not I, papa," she replied; "all that I have been able to
contribute to the order; and beauty of the place has been very slight
indeed. It is all the result of this poor man's taste and skill. He's an
admirable botanist."

"By the great Boyne, my girl, I think he could lick Malcomson