hat one single hour's knowledge of this may take away
from her heart! Go to her, my dear John, and may all the blessings of
heaven rest upon you!"

"Good--by, then, Una dear; I will go."

He took her worn hand in his, as he spoke, and, looking on her with
affectionate admiration, added--

"Yes! good-by, my darling sister; believe me, Una, that I think if
there's justice in Heaven, you'll have a light heart yet."

"It is very light now," she returned, "compared with what it was; but
go, John, don't lose a moment; for I know what they suffer."

Her mother, after John's departure for Fardorougha's, went up to sit
with her; but she found that the previous scene, although it relieved,
had exhausted her. In the course of a few minutes their limited dialogue
ceased, and she sank into a sound and refreshing sleep, from which
she did not awaken until her brother had some time returned from the
execution of his pious message. And piously was that message received
by her for whose misery the considerate heart of Una O'Brien felt
so deeply. Fardorougha had been out about the premises, mechanically
looking to the manner in which the business of his farm had been of late
managed by his two servants, when he descried O'Brien approaching the
house at a quick if not a hurried pace. He immediately went in and
communicated the circumstance to his wife.

"Honor," said he, "here is Bodagh Buie's son comin' up to the
house--what on earth can bring the boy here?"

This was the first day on which his wife had been able to rise from her
sick bed. She was consequently feeble, and, physically speaking, capable
of no domestic exertion. Her mind, however, was firm as ever, and prompt
as before her calamity to direct and overlook, in her own sweet and
affectionate manner, whatever required her superintendence.

"I'm sure I don't know, Fardorougha," she replied. "It can't, I hope,
be wid bad news--they thravel fast enough--an' I'm sure the Bodagh's son
wouldn't take pleasure in bein' the first to tell them to us."

"But what can bring him, Honor? What on earth can bring the boy here
now, that never stood undher our roof afore?"

"Three or four minutes, Fardorougha, will tell us. Let us hope in God it
isn't bad. Eh, Saver above, it wouldn't be the death of his sister--of
Connor's Oona! No," she added, "they wouldn't send, much less come, to
tell vis that; but sure we'll hear it--we'll hear it; and may God give
us stringth to hear it right,