ll tell you how I came to him. I studied his holy Word to learn
his will, and I prayed often that he would give me his Spirit to teach
me the way to him."

"An' did he?"

"Yes. In a little time I began to know more about myself, and to see
how much I needed a Saviour; and then I saw how willing Jesus must be
to save me, having died for me as well as for others; and so, in a way
that I can't explain, I was led to give myself to him, and I soon
found peace in believing. He will teach you, Annorah, and lead you
right, if you earnestly seek him. Look at the sunset clouds. Did you
ever see such gold, and crimson, and purple before? But the sunset is
not half so bright and beautiful as the true Christian's prospects."

Looking at the sunset reminded Annorah that it was late for her charge
to be out. A very slight rustle in the bushes behind her, recalled
what she had strangely forgotten, in her interest in the conversation.
She took up a large stone and threw it among the bushes.

"What is there, Annorah?" asked Annie, in alarm.

"Only a sarpint, miss."

"Well, let us hasten home. Mamma will be anxious."

After they left, the dark form of a man rose from behind the green
knoll where they had been sitting, and moved slowly along the bank of
the stream, down the valley. It was Father M'Clane.

CHAPTER IV.

THE PRIEST MEETS ANNORAH AT HER MOTHER'S COTTAGE.

Biddy Dillon had just finished a large ironing for one of the families
in the village, and having placed the clothes-frame where the dust
from the open fire-place could not fall on the fine starched linens
and muslins, she began to set her table for tea, at the same time
counting over the gains of the week. Not a trifle in her calculations
were the wages of Annorah, who came regularly every Saturday evening
to add her contribution to the family fund.

"It's a good child she is gettin' to be, and a pleasant-tempered one,
too," said Mrs. Dillon to herself; "it's made over intirely, she is,
our Lady be praised!"

She began to sing the burden of an Irish ditty, but the broken-nosed
tea-kettle over the fire beginning to sing too, she commenced talking
again.

"Heaven send it mayn't be thrue, but it does look like the heretic's
doings. She were like a brimstone match, or like gunpowder itself, at
home, and tender-hearted as a young baby besides. Shure, it's a mighty
power, any way, that has so changed her. I can't jist feel aisy about
it, for it's Father M'