The Project Gutenberg EBook of Only an Irish Girl, by Mrs. Hungerford

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

Title: Only an Irish Girl

Author: Mrs. Hungerford

Release Date: January 19, 2009 [EBook #27839]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ONLY AN IRISH GIRL ***

Produced by Daniel Fromont

[Transcriber's note: Mrs. Hungerford (1855?-1897), _Only an Irish girl_,
Prudential Book Co., no date of publication]

ONLY AN IRISH GIRL

BY

THE DUCHESS

NEW YORK

THE PRUDENTIAL

BOOK CO.

ONLY AN IRISH GIRL.

CHAPTER I.

"And was it only a dream, Aileen?"

"Only a dream, miss, but it consarned me greatly. Shure an' I never had
the taste of a sweet sound sleep since I dramed it!"

Honor Blake laughs, and passes her slim hand over the old woman's ruddy
tanned cheek.

"You dear silly old thing to bother your head about a dream! It will be
time enough to fret when we've something real to fret about."

"Ah, mavourneen, may yez never see that day!" nurse Walsh murmurs with
passionate fondness, as she takes the girl's hand between her own broad
palms and presses and fondles it. "Shure it's like yesterday--I mind it
so well--that yer mother, as she lay dying beyant there, in her big
grand bedroom at Donaghmore, said to me, as I stood beside her with
you, a wee thing, in my arms, 'Ye'll be a mother to my little one,
Aileen, and guard her from all harm, as I would have done.' And I knelt
down then and there, and took my solemn oath; and from that day to this
it's the wan bit of sunshine in a cloudy world ye've been to me,
alanna!"

Tears come into the girl's eyes. There is a sad feeling in her heart
this evening, as she stands in the little cottage, and looks across the
bog at the long fields of corn beyond the river; and at this mention of
her dead mother--the fragile mother whom she has never seen--the
feeling grows into passionate pain and longing.

"He's a mighty fine gintleman and a man of manes--I'm not denying it,
darlint--but he's not the man for you. Take an old woman's advice,
mavourneen! He's black of face and of heart. He's come of a race that
ground the poor and raised the ri