whose eyes the keenness of his brother's
repentance wrung tears, despite his burning agony; "Hugh dear"--and he
looked pitifully in the convulsed face of the unhappy man. "Hugh, dear,
it was only an accident, for if you had thought--that it would turn
out--as it has done----But no matter now--you have my forgiveness--and
you deserve it; for Hugh dear, it was as much and more my own
thoughtlessness and self-will that caused it. Hugh dear, comfort and
support Alley here, and Maura, too, Hugh; be kind to them both for poor
Felix's sake." He sank back, exhausted, holding his brother's hand in
his left, and his mute heart-broken bride's in his right. A calm, or
rather torpor, followed, which lasted until his awakening spirit, in
returning consciousness of life and love, made a last effort to dissolve
in a farewell embrace upon the pure bosom of his virgin wife.

"Alley," said he, "are you not my wife, and amn't I your husband? Whose
hand should be upon me--in what arms but yours should I die? Alley,
think of your own Felix--oh, don't let me pass altogether out of your
memory an' if you'd wear a lock of my hair (many a time you used to curl
it over on my cheek, for you used to say it was the same shade as your
own, and you used to compare them together), wear it for my sake, next
your heart, and if ever you think of doin' a wrong thing, look at it,
and you'll remember that Felix, who's now in the dust, always desired
you to pray for the Almighty's grace, an' trust to Him for strength
against evil. But where are you, asthore? My eyes want a last look of
you; I feel you--ay, I feel you in my breakin' heart, and sweet your
presence in it, avourneen machree; but how is it that I cannot see you?
Oh, my wife, my young wife, my spotless wife, be with me--near me!" He
clasped her to his heart, as if while he held her there he thought it
could not cease to beat; but in a moment, after one slight shudder, one
closing pang, his grasp relaxed--his head fell upon her bosom--and he,
Felix, who that morning stood up in the bloom of youth and manly beauty,
with the cup of happiness touching his lips, was now a clod of the
valley. Half unconscious--almost unbelieving that all could be over, she
gently laid him down. On looking into his face, her pale lips quivered;
and as her mute wild gaze became fixed upon the body, slowly the
desolating truth forced itself upon her heart. She then sank upon her
knees, and prayed to God that, if it were His