Sir Robert, on entering the room along with the squire, found the Cooleen Bawn at the spinnet.  Taking his place at the end of it, so as that he could, gain a full view of her countenance, he thought he could observe her complexion considerably heightened in color, and from her his glance was directed to Reilly.  The squire, on the other hand, sat dull, silent, and unsociable, unless when addressing himself to the baronet, and immediately his genial manner returned to him.

With his usual impetuosity, however, when laboring under what he supposed to be a sense of injury, he soon brought matters to a crisis.

“Sir Robert,” said he, “are the Papists quiet now?”

“They are quiet, sir,” replied the other, “because they dare not be otherwise.”

“By the great Deliverer, that saved us from Pope and Popery, brass money and wooden shoes, I think the country will never be quiet till they are banished out of it.”

“Indeed, Mr. Folliard, I agree with you.”

“And so do I, Sir Robert,” said Reilly.  “I wish from my soul there was not a Papist, as you call them, in this unfortunate country!  In any other country beyond the bounds of the British dominions they could enjoy freedom.  But I wish it for another reason, gentlemen; if they were gone, you would then be taught to your cost the value of your estates and the source of your incomes.  And now, Mr. Folliard, I am not conscious of having given you any earthly offence, but I cannot possibly pretend to misunderstand the object of your altered conduct and language.  I am your guest, at your own express invitation.  You know I am a Roman Catholic—­Papist, if you will—­yet, with the knowledge of this, you have not only insulted me personally, but also in the creed to which I belong.  As for that gentleman, I can only say that this roof and the presence of those who are under it constitute his protection.  But I envy 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.”