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 be influenced
by unbecoming or inadequate motives. With an indignant but beautiful
scorn, that gave grace to resentment, she bowed to the baronet, then
kissed her father affectionately and retired.

The old man, after she had gone, sat for a considerable time silent.
In fact, the superior force of his daughter's character had not only
surprised, but overpowered him for the moment. The baronet attempted to
resume the conversation, but he found not his intended father-in-law in
the mood for it. The light of truth, as it flashed from the spirit of
his daughter, seemed to dispel the darkness of his recent suspicions; he
dwelt upon the possibility of ingratitude with a temporary remorse.

"I cannot speak to you, Sir Robert," he said; "I am confused, disturbed,
distressed. If I have treated that young man ungratefully, God may
forgive me, but I will never forgive myself."

"Take care, sir," said the baronet, "that you are not under the spell of
the Jesuit and your daughter too. Perhaps you will find, when it is too
late, that she is the more spellbound of the two. If I don't mistake,
the spell begins to work already. In the meantime, as Miss Folliard will
have it, I withdraw all claims upon her hand and affections. Good-night,
sir;" and as he spoke he took his departure.