ing here
where I am lying now."

"I don't believe it, Peter."

Peter loved his brother, and to bring the marriage about he took some
money from his father and went to live at Father Tom's, and he worked
so hard during the next two months that he passed the Bishop's
examination. And it was late one night when he went to bid them
good-bye at home.

"What makes you so late, Peter?"

"Well, James, I didn't want to meet Catherine on the road."

"You are a good boy, Peter," said the father, "and God will reward you
for the love you bear your brother. I don't think there are two better
men in the world. God has been good to me to give me two such sons."

And then the three sat round the fire, and Pat Phelan began to talk
family history.

"Well, Peter, you see, there has always been a priest in the family,
and it would be a pity if there's not one in this generation. In '48
your grand-uncles joined the rebels, and they had to leave the country.
You have an uncle a priest, and you are just like your uncle William."

And then James talked, but he did not seem to know very well what he
was saying, and his father told him to stop--that Peter was going where
God had called him.

"And you will tell her," Peter said, getting up, "that I have gone."

"I haven't the heart for telling her such a thing. She will be finding
it out soon enough."

Outside the house--for he was sleeping at Father Tom's that
night--Peter thought there was little luck in James's eyes; inside the
house Pat Phelan and James thought that Peter was settled for life.

"He will be a fine man standing on an altar," James said, "and perhaps
he will be a bishop some day."

"And you'll see her when you're done reaping, and you won't forget what
Peter told you," said Pat Phelan.

And, after reaping, James put on his coat and walked up the hillside,
where he thought he would find Catherine.

"I hear Peter has left you," she said, as he opened the gate to let the
cows through.

"He came last night to bid us good-bye."

And they followed the cows under the tall hedges.

"I shall be reaping to-morrow," he said. "I will see you at the same
time."

And henceforth he was always at hand to help her to drive her cows
home; and every night, as he sat with his father by the fire, Pat
Phelan expected James to tell him about Catherine. One evening he came
back overcome, looking so wretched that his father could see that
Catherine had told him she would not ma