ere--to go to the races and the ball--and, above all, to keep
up her spirits, and at any rate seem to enjoy herself there as if
nothing particular had happened. This she promised to do, but with a
voice and face which gave but little sign of her being able to keep
her promise.

He told her that he would occasionally call at Mrs. McKeon's, so that
no remark might be made about his not coming to see her; he desired
her to tell no one that he was going permanently to leave the
country, and that he should not himself let it be known at Mohill
till the day or so before he went; and he added that even when it
was known that he was going, there would be less suspicion arising
respecting her, if she was at Drumsna, than if she remained at
Ballycloran.

To all this she quietly submitted. He was to meet her at the ball
at Carrick-on-Shannon, and then tell her what his definite plan of
carrying her off would be; but he added that the ball night would be
the last she would spend in the country, for that they would leave
the next evening.

About five o'clock Ussher took his leave; she begged of him to come
and see her the next day--every day till they went; but this he
refused; she said that unless she saw him every day to comfort her,
she would not be able to keep up her strength--that she was sure she
would fall ill. It was now Friday, and she was to go to Mrs. McKeon's
on Monday; on Tuesday he said he would call on her there; the races
and ball were to be on the Tuesday week. In vain she asked him
how she was to bear the long days till she saw him again; Ussher
had no true sympathy for such feelings as were racking Feemy's
heart and brain; he merely bid her keep up her spirits, and not be
foolish;--that he would see her on Tuesday, and that after Tuesday
week she would have nothing more to make her unhappy. And then,
kissing her, he went away,--and as we have seen, Thady met him in the
avenue, so satisfied in appearance, so contented, so triumphant, that
he was able to forget the words which had been applied to him on the
previous evening, and to nod to Feemy's brother with as pleasant an
air as though there were no grounds for ill-feeling between them.

Poor Feemy! those vain words that "after Tuesday week she would have
nothing more to make her unhappy," sounded strangely in her ears.
Nothing more to make her unhappy! Could she have anything more, then
or ever, to make her happy? Could she ever be happy again? All that
ha