"Will they?" said Beth, turning on him. "Will they burrn hereafter, Bap-faced Flanagan? No, they won't! They'll hunt ye out of heaven as they hunted ye out o' Maclone.
"Oh, the Orange militia walked into Maclone,
And hunted the Catholics out of the town.
Ri' turen nuren nuren naddio,
Right tur nuren nee."
She sang it out at the top of her shrill little voice, executing a war-dance of defiance to the tune, and concluding with an elaborate curtsey.
As she recovered herself, she became aware of her father standing in the doorway. His lips were white, and there was a queer look in his face.
"Oh! So this is your party, is it, Miss Beth?" he said. "You ask your friends in, and then you insult them, I see."
Beth was still effervescing. She put her hands behind her back and answered boldly—
"'Deed, thin, he insulted me, papa. It was Bap-faced Flanagan. He said we were durrty heretics, and—and—I'll not stand that! It's a free country!"
Captain Caldwell looked round, and the people melted from the room under his eye. Then Anne appeared from somewhere.
"Anne, do you teach the children party-songs?" he demanded.
"Shure, they don't need taching, yer honour," said Anne, disconcerted. "Miss Beth knows 'em all, and she shouts 'em at the top of her voice down the street till the men shake their fists at her."