pathy; where I expected indignation, I found
enthusiasm.

"There's nothing like it in the world," he used say (this was a favorite
expression of his); "such faith, such reverence, such kindly courtesy!
Why, no empress could do the honors of the table like that poor woman!
Did you notice her solicitude, her eagerness, her sensitiveness lest she
should be intruding on our society. But those men in that smoky
kitchen,--it took me a long time to discern their faces in the gloom of
the smoke. And then I'd have given half that I have ever learned to be
able to paint them,--strong, brave mountaineers, their faces ruddy from
sun and wind; and such a reverential attitude! And then the idea of
their coming over to me, a young lad like themselves, and kneeling down
on the cobblestones, and whispering their little story,--there in the
presence of their comrades; and the little maidens with their sweet,
pure faces hidden under the hoods of their shawls, and the eyes of
wondering children, and the old men, bending over the fire,--why you
ought to be the happiest man on the face of the earth,--they are a
people to die for!"

Well, this morning at Glencarn we had a scene; and, as an easy,
good-tempered old man, I hate scenes, and keep away from them. The
morning was sullenly wet,--not in fierce, autumnal gusts, but there was
a steady persistent downpour of soft, sweet rain, that bathed your face
like a sponge, and trickled under your coat collar, and soaked your
frieze and waterproof, and made you feel flabby and warm and
uncomfortable. We did not see the cabin until we were quite close to it;
and when we entered, the first person we saw, kneeling on the mud floor,
but the kindness of the people had placed a bag under her knees, was
Bittra Campion. She was wrapped round about with a waterproof cloak, the
hood of which, lined with blue, covered her head, and only left her face
visible. There she knelt among the simple people; and if the saint of
the day appeared in bodily form, I am not sure that he would have
received more reverence than was poured around that gentle figure from
the full hearts that beat silently near her. I was not much surprised,
for I had seen Miss Campion at stations before; but Father Letheby
started back in astonishment, and looked inquiringly at me. I took no
notice, but passed into the little bedroom, and commenced hearing
confessions.

The tinkling of the little bell was the only indication I had of the
pr