so nervous in my life.--Do go back to the bedroom,
Tom.--Aunt Church, oughtn't he to go?"

"Come and sit by me," said Mrs. Church. "And here's a fresh egg for you.
Take your place, Tom; and when the others go into the yard for their
foolish mummeries--for I can't make out that there's a bit of sense in
this scheme from first to last--why, you and I will finish up what is
left of the good things."

"You are a brick, Aunt Church," said Tom.

He took a seat at the table, and gazed with wonder, delight, and
admiration at Kathleen. He told his schoolfellows that at that moment
he lost his heart to Kathleen. He said that she bowled him over
completely.

"I haven't a scrap of heart in my body to-day," he remarked to his
chosen friends. "I took it out and put it at her feet; and if you'll
believe me, she spurned it. That's the way of girls. Don't you have
anything to do with them, boys."

But the boys only begged more earnestly than ever to have a look at
Kathleen. Tom finally promised to secure her photograph by hook or by
crook, and to show it to them.

When the meal, which was but a short one after all, came to an end, Miss
O'Flynn and Kathleen got up and were preparing to go to the yard at the
back of the house, when there came the sound of horse's hoofs on the
stones outside. They stopped at the cottage, and a loud knock at the
door was next heard.

"They have come," said Susy, her face white as a sheet. "I knew they
would. I wonder what will happen, Kathleen. Aren't you awfully
frightened?"

"Not I," said Kathleen. "Why should I be afraid? Whoever is there has
nothing to do with us."

Susy's state of panic amused both Miss O'Flynn and Kathleen, and Tom was
the only one found brave enough to go to the door in answer to the
knock. He came back the next instant with a telegram, which was
addressed to Miss O'Flynn. She tore it open, and gave a loud scream.

"It's my poor cousin Peggy Doharty. She has fallen from her horse and
has concussion of the brain. I must go to her at once. Oh, alannah,
alannah! What is to be done?"

Here Miss O'Flynn turned a face of anguish in Kathleen's direction.

"It is I that must leave you, my darling," she said. "I will go back to
town with the messenger, get off to London to-night, and cross in the
morning. Ah, the creature! And she's my dearest friend. Let us hope that
Providence will spare her precious life. Oh dear, dear, dear! This is
awful!"

"I don't see why you should