"That reminds me," replied the Captain. "Didn't you tell me Father William was going to America this winter on a collecting tour? Well, if you get him the interest of Mrs. Dillon his tour is assured of success before he begins it."
A horrible fear smote the heart of the priest, nor did he see the peculiar smile on the Captain's face. Had he made the dreadful mistake of losing a grand opportunity for his brother, soon to undertake a laborious mission?
"Why do you think so?" he inquired.
"You would have to be in New York to understand it," replied the Captain. "But the Countess of Skibbereen is not a patch in this county compared to what Mrs. Dillon is in New York!"
"Oh, dear me! Do you tell me!"
"Her people are all in politics, and in the church, and in business. Her son is a—well, he owns a gold mine, I think, and he is in politics, too. In fact, it seems pretty clear that if you want anything in New York Mrs. Dillon is the woman to get it, as the Countess found it. And if you are not wanted in New York by Mrs. Dillon, then you must go west as far as Chicago."
"Oh, how unfortunate! I am afraid, Captain, that I have made a blunder. Mrs. Dillon came to me—most kindly of course—and made an offer to take care of a booth at the bazaar, and I refused her. You know my feeling against giving these Americans any foothold amongst us——"
"Don't tell that to Father William, or he will never forgive you," said the Captain. "But Mrs. Dillon is forgiving as well as generous. Do the handsome thing by her. Go up to the castle and explain matters, and she will forget your——"
"Oh, call it foolishness at once," said the priest. "I'm afraid I'm too late, but for the sake of charity I'll do what you say."
A velvety welcome Anne gave him. Before all others she loved the priest, and but that she had to teach Father Roslyn a lesson he would have seen her falling at his feet for his blessing. In some fashion he made explanation and apology.