“I know Kathleen, however,” he would say; “I know her truth, her good sense, and her affection; and, whatever the world may say, she won't follow its example and condemn me without a hearing. I will see her tomorrow and explain all to her. Father,” he added, “will you ask Dora if she will walk with me to the Long-shot Meadow? I think a stroll round it will do me good. I haven't altogether recovered my strength yet.”
“To be sure I will go with you, Bryan,” said the bright-eyed and affectionate sister; “to be sure I will; it's on my way to Gerald Cavanagh's; and I'm going down to see how they are, and to know if something I heard about them is thrue. I want to satisfy myself; but they musn't get on their high horse with me, I can tell them.”
“You never doubted me, Dora,” said Bryan, as they went along—“you never supposed for a moment that I could”—he paused. “I know,” he added, “that it doesn't look well; but you never supposed that I acted from treachery, or deceit, or want of affection or respect for my religion? You don't suppose that what all the country is ringin' with—that I took a bribe or made a bargain with Vanston—is true?”
“Why do you ask me such questions?” she replied. “You acted on the spur of the minute; and I say, afther what you heard from the landlord and agent, if you had voted for him you'd be a mane, pitiful hound, unworthy of your name and family. You did well to put him out. If I had been in your place, 'out you go,' I'd say, 'you're not the man for my money.' Don't let what the world says fret you, Bryan; sure, while you have Kathleen and me at your back, you needn't care about them. At any rate, it's well for Father M'Pepper that I'm not a man, or, priest as he is, I'd make a stout horsewhip tiche him to mind his religion, and not intermeddle in politics where he has no business.”
“Why, you're a great little soldier, Dora,” replied Bryan, smiling on her with affectionate admiration.
“I hate anything tyrannical or overbearing,” she replied, “as I do anything that's mane and ungenerous.”
“As to Father M'Pepper, we're not to take him as an example of what his brother priests in general are or ought to be. The man may think he is doing only his duty; but, at all events, Dora, he has proved to me, very much at my own cost, I grant, that he has more zeal than discretion! May God forgive him; and that's the worst I wish him. When did you see or hear from Kathleen? I long to give her an explanation of my conduct, because I know she will listen to raison.”
“That's more than I know yet, then,” replied Dora. “She has awful high notions of our religion, an' thinks we ought to go about huntin' after martyrdom. Yes, faix, she thinks we ought to lay down our lives for our religion or our counthry, if we were to be called on to do so. Isn't that nice doctrine? She's always reading books about them.”
“It is, Dora, and thrue doctrine; and so we ought—that is, if our deaths would serve either the one or the other.”
“And would you die for them, if it went to that? because if you would, I would; for then I'd know that I ought to do it.”