ct, and
incontrovertible, and she knew that no chance of impunity or acquittal
remained for any one of his creed guilty of such a violation of the
laws--we say, she knew all this--but it was not of the fate of Reilly
she thought. The girl was an acute observer, and both a close and clear
thinker. She had remarked in the _Cooleen Bawn_, on several occasions,
small gushes, as it were, of unsettled thought, and of temporary
wildness, almost approaching to insanity. She knew, besides, that
insanity was in the family on her father's side; * and, as she had so
boldly and firmly stated to that father himself, she dreaded the
result which Reilly's conviction might produce upon a mind with such
a tendency, worn down and depressed as it had been by all she had
suffered, and more especially what she must feel by the tumult and
agitation of that dreadful day.

* The reader must take this as the necessary material for
our fiction. There never was insanity in Helen's family; and
we make this note to prevent them from taking unnecessary
offence.

It was about two hours after dark when she was startled by the noise of
the carriage-wheels as they came up the avenue. Her heart beat as if it
would burst, the blood rushed to her head, and she became too giddy to
stand or walk; then it seemed to rush back to her heart, and she was
seized with thick breathing and feebleness; but at length, strengthened
by the very intensity of the interest she felt, she made her way to the
lower steps of the hall door in time to be present when the carriage
arrived at it. She determined, however, wrought up as she was to the
highest state of excitement, to await, to watch, to listen. She did
so. The carriage stopped at the usual place, the coachman came down and
opened the door, and Mr. Folliard came out. After him, assisted by Mrs.
Brown, came Helen, who was immediately conducted in between the latter
and her father. In the meantime poor Ellen could only look on. She was
incapable of asking a single question, but she followed them up to the
drawing-room where they conducted her mistress. When she was about to
enter, Mrs. Brown said:

"Ellen, you had better not come in; your mistress is unwell."

Mrs. Hastings then approached, and, with a good deal of judgment and
consideration, said:

"I think it is better, Mrs. Brown, that Ellen should see her, or,
rather, that she should see Ellen. Who can tell how beneficial the
effect may be o