, with wide eyes.

"Say some more, Daddy."

The sobbing cadences of the greatest of Irish songs came to Antony's
mind, and he crooned a verse or two at random:

All day long, in unrest,
To and fro, do I move.
The very soul within my breast
Is wasted for you, love!
The heart in my bosom faints
To think of you, my queen,
My life of life, my saint of saints,
My dark Rosaleen!
My own Rosaleen!
To hear your sweet and sad complaints,
My life, my love, my saint of saints,
My dark Rosaleen!....

Over dews, over sands,
Will I fly for your weal:
Your holy delicate white hands
Shall girdle me with steel.
At home in your emerald bowers,
From morning's dawn till e'en,

You'll pray for me, my flower of flowers,
My dark Rosaleen!
My fond Rosaleen!
You'll think of me thro' daylight hours,
My virgin flower, my flower of flowers,
My dark Rosaleen!

I could scale the blue air,
I could plough the high hills,
Oh, I could kneel all night in prayer
To heal your many ills!
And one beamy smile from you
Would float like light between
My toils and me, my own, my true,
My dark Rosaleen!
My fond Rosaleen!
Would give me life and soul anew,
A second life, a soul anew,
My dark Rosaleen!

Wonder, child-like, wearied with the length of the verses, and suddenly
the white face of Silencieux caught her eye.

"Who is that lady, Daddy?"

"That is Silencieux."

"What a pretty name! Is she a kind lady, Daddy?"

"Sometimes."

"She is very beautiful. She is like little mother. But her face is so
white. She makes me frightened. Hold me, Daddy--" and she crouched in
his arms.

"You mustn't be frightened of her, Wonder. She loves little girls. See
how she is smiling at you. She wants to be friends with you. She wants
you to kiss her, little Wonder."

"Oh, no! no!" almost screamed the little girl.

But suddenly a cruel whim to insist came over the father, and,
half-coaxingly and half-forcibly, he held her up to the image, stroking
its white cheek to reassure her.

"See, how kind she is, little Wonder! See how she smiles--how she loves
you. She loves little girls, and she never sees any up here in the
lonely wood. It will make her so happy. Kiss her, little Wonder!"

Reluctantly the child obeyed, and with a shudder she said:--

"Oh, how cold her lips are, Daddy!"

"But were they not sweet, little Wonder?"

"No, D