ith that prospect! I suppose there is a sort
of call to one's heart from the soil that gave one birth, but in my case
it was coupled with a chilling thought of the poor welcome I should
receive there, my father's house being closed to me and my husband's
abandoned for ever.

The very next morning, however, there came a letter from Father Dan,
giving me all the news of Ellan: some of it sad enough, God knows (about
the downfall of my father's financial schemes); some of it deliciously
wicked, such as it would have required an angel not to rejoice in (about
the bad odour in which Alma and my husband were now held, making the
pendulum of popular feeling swing back in my direction); and some of it
utterly heart-breaking in its assurances of the love still felt for me
in my native place.

Of course the sweetest part of that came from Christian Ann, who, after
a stiff fight with her moral principles, had said that whatever I had
done I was as "pure as the mountain turf," and, who then charged Father
Dan with the message that "Mary O'Neill's little room" was waiting for
her still.

This settled everything--everything except one thing, and that was the
greatest thing of all. But when Martin came later the same day, having
received the same message, and declared his intention of taking me home,
there seemed to be nothing left to wish for in earth or heaven.

Nevertheless I shouldn't have been a woman If I had not coquetted with
my great happiness, so when Martin had finished I said:

"But dare you?"

"Dare I--what?" said Martin.

"Dare you go home . . . with _me_?"

I knew what I wanted him to say, and he said it like a darling.

"Look here, Mary, I'm just spoiling for a sight of the little island,
and the old people are destroyed at not seeing me; but if I can't go
back with you, by the Lord God! I'll never go back at all."

I wanted to see baby before going away, but that was forbidden me.

"Wait until you're well enough, and we'll send her after you," said Dr.
O'Sullivan.

So the end of it all was that inside a week I was on my way to Ellan,
not only with Martin, but also with Mildred, who, being a little out of
health herself, had been permitted to take me home.

Shall I ever forget our arrival at Blackwater! The steamer we sailed in
was streaming with flags from stem to stern, and as she slid up the
harbour the dense crowds that packed the pier from end to end seemed
frantic with excitement. Such shouting an