Reilly, though full of fervor and enthusiasm, was yet by no means
deficient in strong sense. On his way home he began to ask himself
in what this overwhelming passion for _Cooleen Bawn_ must end. His
religion, he was well aware, placed an impassable gulf between them.
Was it then generous or honorable in him to abuse the confidence and
hospitality of her father by engaging the affections of a daughter, on
whose welfare his whole happiness was placed, and to whom, moreover, he
could not, without committing an act of apostasy that he abhorred, ever
be united as a husband? Reason and prudence, moreover, suggested to
him the danger of his position, as well as the ungenerous nature of his
conduct to the grateful and trusting father. But, away with reason
and prudence--away with everything but love. The rapture of his heart
triumphed over every argument; and, come weal or woe, he resolved to
win the far-famed "Star of Connaught," another epithet which she derived
from her wonderful and extraordinary beauty.

On approaching his own house he met a woman named Mary Mahon, whose
character of a fortune-teller was extraordinary in the country, and
whose predictions, come from what source they might, had gained her a
reputation which filled the common mind with awe and fear.

"Well, Mary," said he, "what news from futurity? And, by the way, where
is futurity? Because if you don't know," he proceeded, laughing, "I
think I could tell you."

"Well," replied Mary, "let me hear it. Where is it, Mr. Reilly?"

"Why," he replied, "just at the point of your own nose, Mary, and you
must admit it is not a very long one; pure Milesian, Mary; a good deal
of the saddle in its shape."