is very sad you are going away. We may
never see you again, and there is no time to talk, and I've much to say
to you."

"I am going away, Catherine, but maybe I will be coming back some day.
I was going to say maybe you would be coming over after me; but the
land is good land, and you'll be able to make a living out of it."

And then they spoke of Peter. James said he was too great a scholar for
a farmer, and it was a pity he could not find out what he was fit
for--for surely he was fit for something great after all.

And Catherine said:--

"I shall be able to make something out of Peter."

His emotion almost overcame him, and Catherine looked aside so that she
should not see his tears.

"This is no time for talking of Peter," she said. "You are going away,
James, but you will come back. You will find another woman better than
I am in America, James. I don't know what to say to you. The train will
be here in a minute. I am distracted. But one day you will be coming
back, and we shall be very proud of you when you come back. I shall
rebuild the house, and we shall be all happy then. Oh! here's the
train. Good-bye; you have been very good to me. Oh, James! shall I ever
see you again?"

Then the crowd swept them along, and James had to take his father's
hand and his brother's hand. There were a great many people in the
station--hundreds were going away in the same ship that James was going
in. The train was followed by wailing relatives. They ran alongside of
the train, waving their hands until they could no longer keep up with
the train. James waved a red handkerchief until the train was out of
sight. It disappeared in a cutting, and a moment after Catherine and
Peter remembered they were standing side by side. They were going to be
married in a few days! They started a little, hearing a step beside
them. It was old Phelan.

"I think," he said, "it is time to be getting home."

CHAPTER IV

HOME SICKNESS

He told the doctor he was due in the bar-room at eight o'clock in the
morning; the bar-room was in a slum in the Bowery; and he had only been
able to keep himself in health by getting up at five o'clock and going
for long walks in the Central Park.

"A sea voyage is what you want," said the doctor. "Why not go to
Ireland for two or three months? You will come back a new man."

"I'd like to see Ireland again."

And then he began to wonder how the people at home were getting on. The
doctor was ri