king his wife's hand in his, looked at her, and then upon them all,
with an expression of deep emotion. "Bridget, your health; childre', all
your healths; and here's to Carriglasa, an' may we long live happy in
it, as we will, plase God! Peety, not forgettin' you!"

We need hardly say that the glass went round, nor that Peety was not
omitted in the hospitality any more than in the toast.

"Here, Bryan," said Mrs. M'Mahon, "lay that bottle on the dresser, it's
not worth while puttin' it past till the neighbors comes up; an' it's
they that'll be the glad neighbors to see you safe back agin, Tom."

In this she spoke truth. Honest and hearty was the welcome he received
from them, as with sparkling eyes and a warm grasp they greeted him
on his return. Not only had Paddy Mullin and Jemmy Kelly run up in
haste--the latter, who had been digging in his garden, without waiting
to put on his hat or coat--but other families in the neighborhood, young
and old, crowded in to welcome him home---from Dublin--for in that lay
the principal charm. The bottle was again produced, and a holiday spirit
now prevailed among them. Questions upon questions were put to him with
reference to the wonders they had heard of the great metropolis--of
the murders and robberies committed upon travellers--the kidnapping of
strangers from the country--the Lord Lieutenant's Castle, with three
hundred and sixty-four windows in it, and all the extraordinary sights
and prodigies which it is supposed to contain. In a few minutes after
this friendly accession to their numbers had taken place, a youth
entered about nineteen years of age--handsome, tall, and well-made--in
fact, such a stripling as gave undeniable promise of becoming a fine,
powerful young man. On being handed a glass of whiskey he shook hands
with M'Mahon, welcomed him home, and then drank all their healths by
name until he came to that of Dora, when he paused, and, coloring,
merely nodded towards her. We cannot undertake to account for this
omission, nor do more than record what actually happened. Neither do we
know why Dora blushed so deeply as she did, nor why the sparkling and
rapid glance which she gave him in return occasioned him to look down
with an appearance of confusion and pain. That some understanding
subsisted between young Cavanagh--for he was Gerald's son--and Dora
might have been evident to a close observer; but in truth there was
at that moment no such thing as a close observer a