with a young lady whom he had met for the first
time. Indeed, he was much gratified to find that the lady was not at all
stiff and offish, as he had feared, but as "haffable as her huncle and
more." The lady laughed, and blushed at loud compliments, as loud as the
check of Mr. Rawdon's clothes, and asked flattering questions, which he
answered with a jolliky and recklessness that almost astonished himself.
Was there no romance, no spice of daring in his occupation? she had
asked, and he, remembering that he was talking to a soldier's daughter,
who would, doubtless, appreciate courage, replied enigmatically that the
grinstun business was about the riskiest business on earth, and required
'eroism of no hordinary kind.

While this conversation was going on, the dominie and the veteran were
walking churchward, for, as the former had signified his intention of
going to a place of worship, the old man insisted on accompanying him.

"Oi was born a Catholic, sorr, and a Catholic Oi'll doie, though my
darter is a Pratestant, and what's more, a Prosbytarian. She rades her
Boible an' Oi rade moine, an' there's sorra a bit av differance betwane
thim. If the church is good enough for her, it's good enough for the
loikes av me."

"That is what I call being a Catholic in the truest sense of the term.
We will not deprive people of the kingdom of Heaven because they refuse
to go our way."

"Till me now, sorr, what's that that's pertindin' to be my dear young
misthress, Miss Ceshile?"

"An old soldier knows how to keep a secret, I am sure. It is the famous
detective, Mr. Nash."

"Sure I hope, by my sowl, that he'll make the crathur gnash his tayth.
It was all I could do to kape my hands aff him, as we were walkin' along
to mate yez. Him to make up to the cornel's darter, the misherable,
insignifikint, bad shpokin, thavin' scrap av impidence!"

The church bell had ceased ringing, the horses and waggons were in the
driving shed without any attendant, and, as the pair approached, they
could hear the sound of hearty singing coming through the open windows.
They entered together, the old man crossing himself as he did so, and
sat down in a pew near the door. The schoolmaster saw that the church
was that of Mr. Errol, who occupied the pulpit. He looked round, but
could not see his friend Coristine; nor was little Marjorie anywhere
visible. They must have strolled on farther to Mr. Perrowne's
consecrated edifice for the sake of the wal