d she
would soon get better. It is a difficult task to talk properly to a
dying person about death, and Martin felt that he was quite incompetent
to do so.

"But," she continued, after a little, "there's still much that I want
to do,--that I ought to do. In the first place, I must make my will."

Martin was again puzzled. This was another subject on which he felt
himself equally unwilling to speak; he could not advise her not to make
one; and he certainly would not advise her to do so.

"Your will, Anty?--there's time enough for that; you'll be sthronger
you know, in a day or two. Doctor Colligan says so--and then we'll talk
about it."

"I hope there is time enough, Martin; but there isn't more than enough;
it's not much that I'll have to say--"

"Were you spaking to Barry about it this morning?"

"Oh, I was. I told him what I'd do: he'll have the property now,
mostly all as one as av the ould man had left it to him. It would
have been betther so, eh Martin?" Anty never doubted her lover's
disinterestedness; at this moment she suspected him of no dirty longing
after her money, and she did him only justice. When he came into her
room he had no thoughts of inheriting anything from her. Had he been
sure that by asking he could have induced her to make a will in his
favour, he would not have done so. But still his heart sunk a little
within him when he heard her declare that she was going to leave
everything back to her brother. It was, however, only for a moment; he
remembered his honest determination firmly and resolutely to protect
their joint property against any of her brother's attempts, should he
ever marry her; but in no degree to strive or even hanker after it,
unless it became his own in a fair, straightforward manner.

"Well, Anty; I think you're right," said he. "But wouldn't it all go to
Barry, nathurally, without your bothering yourself about a will, and
you so wake."

"In course it would, at laist I suppose so; but Martin," and she smiled
faintly as she looked up into his face, "I want the two dear, dear
girls, and I want yourself to have some little thing to remember me by;
and your dear kind mother,--she doesn't want money, but if I ask her to
take a few of the silver things in the house, I'm sure she'll keep them
for my sake. Oh, Martin! I do love you all so very--so very much!" and
the warm tears streamed down her cheeks.

Martin's eyes were affected, too: he made a desperate struggle to
repre