t girl at his side, "think of me. Sure I'll
be your Dora more than ever, now. You know what you promised me this
minute. Oh, for her sake, and for God's sake, then, don't take it so
much to heart. It was my grandfather sent me to you, an' he says he
want's to see you, an' to spake to you."

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "My poor father, an' he won't be long afther her.
But this is the way wid all, Bryan--the way o' the world itself. We must
go. I didn't care, now, how soon I followed her. Oh, no, no."

"Don't say so, father; think of the family you have; think of how you
love them, and how they love you, father dear. Don't give way so much to
this sorrow. I know it's hard to bid you not to do it; but you know we
must strive to overcome ourselves. I hope there's happy days and years
before us still. We'll have our leases soon, you know, an' then we'll
feel firm and comfortable: an' you know you'll be--we'll all be near
where she sleeps."

"Where she sleeps. Well, there's comfort in that, Bryan--there's comfort
in that."

The old man, though very feeble, on seeing him approach, rose up and met
him. "Tom," said he, "be a man, and don't shame my white hairs nor your
own. I lost your mother, an' I was as fond of her, an' had as good a
right, too, as ever you were of her that's now an angel in heaven; but
if I lost her, I bore it as a man ought. I never yet bid you do a thing
that you didn't do, but I now bid you stop cryin', an don't fly in the
face o' God as you're doin'. You respect my white hairs, an' God will
help you as he has done!"

The venerable appearance of the old man, the melancholy but tremulous
earnestness with which he spoke, and the placid spirit of submission
which touched his whole bearing with the light of an inward piety
that no age could dim or overshadow, all combined to work a salutary
influence upon M'Mahon. He evidently made a great effort at composure,
nor without success. His grief became calm; he paid attention to other
matters, and by the aid of Bryan, and from an anxiety lest he should
disturb or offend his father by any further excess of sorrow, he was
enabled to preserve a greater degree of composure than might have been
expected.

CHAPTER XII.--Hycy Concerts a Plot and is urged to Marry.

The Hogans, who seldom missed a Wake, Dance, Cockfight or any other
place of amusement or tumult, were not present, we need scarcely assure
our readers, at the wake-house of Mrs. M'Mahon. On that night t