you do
the heart of your own Una injustice, if you think it could ever feel
happiness with another. Already I have my mother's consent to enter a
convent--and to enter a convent is my fixed determination."

"Oh, mother," said Connor, "How will I lave this blessed girl? how will
I part with her?"

Honor rose up, and, by two or three simple words, disclosed more
forcibly, more touchingly, than any direct exhibition of grief could
have done, the inexpressible power of the misery she felt at this
eternal separation from her only boy. She seized Una's two hands, and,
kissing her lips, said, in tones of the most heart--rending pathos--

"Oh, Una, Una, pity me--I am his mother!"

Una threw herself into her arms, and sobbed out--

"Yes, and mine."

"Thin you'll obey me as a daughter should," said Honor. "This is too
much for you, Oona; part we both must from him, an' neither of us is
able to bear much, more."

She here gave Connor a private signal to be firm, pointing unobservedly
to Una's pale cheek, which at that moment lay upon her bosom.

"Connor," she proceeded, "Oona has what you sent her. Nogher--an' he
is breakin' his heart too--gave it to me; an' my daughter, for I will
always call her so, has it this minute next her lovin' heart. Here is
hers, an' let it lie next yours."

Connor seized the glossy ringlet from his mother's hand, and placed it
at the moment next to the seat of his undying affection for the fair
girl from whose ebon locks it had been taken.

His mother then kissed Una again, and, rising, said--

"Now, my daughther, remimber I am your mother, an' obey me."

"I will," said Una, attempting to repress her grief--"I will; but--"

"Yes, darlin', you will. Now, Connor, my son, my son--Connor?"

"What is it, mother, darlin'?"

"We're goin', Connor,--we're lavin' you--be firm--be a man. Aren't
you my son, Connor? my only son--an' the ould man--an' never, never
more--kneel down--kneel down, till I bless you. Oh, many, many a
blessin' has risen from your mother's lips an' your mother's heart, to
Heaven for you, my son, my son!"

Connor knelt, his heart bursting, but he knelt not alone. By his side
was his own Una, with meek and bended head, awaiting for his mothers
blessing.

She then poured forth that blessing; first: upon him who was nearest to
her heart, and afterwards upon the worn but still beautiful; girl, whose
love for that adored son had made her so inexpressibly dear to her.
Whilst!