Idon’tthinktheworldaffordssuchanothersight；andforonemoment，atsuchtimes，I’dhavebeenwillingtobeanIrishcouncilman，thatI
mighthavesomerighttotheprideIfeltinthecapitaloftheIrishRepublic。WhatafinethingitmustbeforeachvictimofsixcenturiesofoppressiontoreflectthatheownsatleastadozenAmericans，andthat，withhisfellows，herulesahundredhelplessmillionaires！“
Likealldaughtersofafreecountry，Isabelknewnothingaboutpolitics，andshefeltthatshewasgettingintodeepwater；sheansweredbuoyantly，butshewasgladtomakeherwearinesstheoccasionofhailingastage，andchangingtheconversation。Thefartherdowntowntheywentthebusierthestreetgrew；andabouttheAstorHouse，wheretheyalighted，therewasalreadyabustlethatnothingbutafirecouldhavecreatedatthesamehourinBoston。AlittlefartheronthesteepleofTrinityrosehighintothescorchingsunlight，whilebelow，intheshadowthatwasdarkerthanitwascool，slumberedtheoldgravesamongtheirflowers。
“Howstilltheylie！“musedthehappywife，peeringthroughtheironfenceinpassing。
“Yes，theirwedding-journeysareended，poorthings！“saidBasil；andthroughboththeirmindsflashedthewonderiftheyshouldevercometosomethinglikethat；butitappearedsoimpossiblethattheybothsmiledattheabsurdity。