"Why, the fact is, I'll put him into your hands to convert him--make him
a staunch Protestant, and take him for your pains. Accomplish this, and
let long-legged, knock-kneed Whitecraft, and his twelve thousand a year,
go and bite some other fool as he bit me in 'Hop-and-go-constant.'"

"What are twelve thousand a year, papa, when you know that they could
not secure me happiness with such a wretch? Such a union, sir, could
not be--cannot be--must not be, and I will add, whilst I am in the
possession of will and reason, shall not be."

[Illustration: PAGE 28 (and Frontispiece)--You must endeavor to convert
him from Popery]

"Well, Helen," said her father, "if you are obstinate, so am I; but I
trust we shall never have to fight for it. We must have Reilly here, and
you must endeavor to convert him from Popery. If you succeed, I'll give
long-shanks his _nunc dimittis_, and send him home on a trot."

"Papa," she replied, "this will be useless--it will be ruin--I know
Reilly."

"The devil you do! When, may I ask, did you become acquainted?"

"I mean," she replied, blushing, "that I have seen enough of him during
his short stay here to feel satisfied that no earthly persuasion, no
argument, could induce him, at this moment especially, to change his
religion. And, sir, I will add myself--yes, I will say for myself, dear
papa, and for Reilly too, that if from any unbecoming motive--if for the
sake of love itself, I felt satisfied that he could give up and abandon
his religion, I would despise him. I should feel at once that his heart