not the man who could avail himself of such a position, for the
purpose of insinuating an insult which he dare not offer under other
circumstances. I will not apologize for taking my departure, for I feel
that I have been too long here."

_Cooleen Bawn_ arose in deep agitation. "Dear papa, what is this?"
she exclaimed. "What can be the cause of it? Why forget the laws of
hospitality? Why, above all things, deliberately insult the man to whom
you and I both owe so much? Oh, I cannot understand it. Some demon,
equally cowardly and malignant, must have poisoned your own naturally
generous mind. Some villain, equally profligate and hypocritical, has,
for some dark purpose, given this unworthy bias to your mind."

"You know nothing of it, Helen. You're altogether in the dark, girl; but
in a day or two it will all be made clear to you."

"Do not be discomposed, my dear Miss Folliard," said Sir Robert,
striding over to her. "Allow me to prevail upon you to suspend your
judgment for a little, and to return to the beautiful air you were
enchanting us with."

As he spoke he attempted to take her hand. Reilly, in the meantime, was
waiting for an opportunity to bid his love goodnight.

[Illustration: PAGE 35--Touch me not, sir]

"Touch me not, sir," she replied, her glorious eyes flashing with
indignation. "I charge you as the base cause of drawing down the
disgrace of shame, the sin of ingratitude, on my father's head. But here
that father stands, and there you, sir, stand; and sooner than become
the wife of Sir Robert Whitecraft I would dash myself from the
battlements of this castle. William Reilly, brave and generous young
man, goodnight! It matters not who may forget the debt of gratitude
which this family owe you--I will not. No cowardly slanderer shall
instil his poisonous calumnies against you into my ear. My opinion of
you is unchanged and unchangeable. Farewell! William Relly!"

We shall not attempt to describe the commotions of love, of happiness,
of rapture, which filled Reilly's bosom as he took his departure. As
for _Cooleen Bawn_, she had now passed the Rubicon, and there remained
nothing for her but constancy to the truth of her affection, be the
result what it might. She had, indeed, much of the vehemence of her
father's character in her; much of his unchangeable purpose, when she
felt or thought she was right; but not one of his unfounded whims or
prejudices; for she was too noble-minded and sensible to b