him--there's a compliment, Helen--you're a good girl--thank you, Helen."

Helen's face was now radiant with mirthful enjoyment, whilst at the same
time Reilly could perceive that from time to time a deep unconscious
sigh would escape from her, such a sigh as induced him to infer that
some hidden care was at work with her heart. This he at once imputed to
her father's determination to force her into a marriage with the worthy
baronet, whom in his simplicity he was so ludicrously describing.

"Proceed, papa, and finish as you have begun it."

"I will, to oblige and gratify you, Helen. He is a little close about
the knees, Mr. Reilly--a little close about the knees, Willy."

"And about the heart, papa," added his daughter, who, for the life of
her, could not restrain the observation.

"It's no fault to know the value of money, my dear child. However, let
me go on--close about the knees, but that's a proof of strength, because
they support one another: every one knows that."

"But his arms, papa?"

"You see, Reilly, you see, Willy," said the squire, nodding in the
direction of his daughter, "not a bad sign that, and yet she pretends
not to care about him. She is gratified, evidently. Ah, Helen, Helen!
it's hard to know women."

"But his arms, papa?"