o near me," said he.

"Ah, I feel I am," she said, shaking her head.

"I mane," he added, "for your own safety. Give me your hand, dear
Sarah."

He took her hand, and raising himself a little on his right side, he
looked upon her again; and as he did so, she felt a few warm tears
falling upon it.

"Now," he said, "lay me down again, Sarah."

A few moments of ecstatic tumult, in which Sarah was unconscious of
anything about her, passed. She then rose, and sitting down on the
little stool, she wept for some minutes in silence. During this quiet
paroxysm no one spoke; but when Dalton turned his eyes upon Mave
Sullivan, she was pale as ashes.

Mary, who had noticed nothing particular in the incidents just related,
now urged Mave to depart; and the latter, on exchanging glances with
Dalton, could perceive that a feeble hectic had overspread his face. She
looked on him earnestly for a moment, then paused as if in thought, and
going round to his bedside, knelt down, and taking his hand, said--

"Con, if there is any earthly thing that I can do to give ease and
comfort to your mind, I am ready to do it. If it would relieve you,
forget that you ever saw me, or ever--ever--knew me at all. Suppose I
am not living--that I am dead. I say this, dear Con, to relieve you from
any pain or distress of mind that you may feel on my account. Believe
me, I feel everything for you, an' nothing now for myself. Whatever
you do, I tell you that a harsh word or thought from me you will never
have."

Mave, while she spoke, did not shed a tear; nor was her calm, sweet
voice indicative of any extraordinary emotion. Sarah, who had been
weeping until the other began to speak, now rose up, and approaching
Mave, said--

"Go, Mave Sullivan--go out of this dangerous house; and you, Condy
Dalton, heed not what she has said. Mave Sullivan, I think I understand
your words, an' they make me ashamed of myself, an' of the thoughts that
have been troublin' me. Oh, what am I when compared to you?--nothing
nothing."

Mave had, on entering, deposited the little matters she had brought
for their comfort, and Mary now came over, and placing her hand on her
shoulder, said:

"Sarah is right, dear Mave; for God's sake do not stay here. Oh,
think--only think if you tuck this faver, an' that anything happened
you."

"Come," said Sarah, "leave this dangerous place; I will see you part of
the way home--you can do nothing here that I won't do, and everything