"Kathleen! Kathleen! Och! sure I know your worth, avillish. You were too
good a wife, an' too good a mother, a'most! God forgive me, Kathleen! I
fretted about beginnin', dear; but as my Heavenly Father's above me, I'm
now happier to beg wid you by my side, nor if I war in the best house
of the province widout you! Hould up, avour-neen, for a while. Come on,
childhre, darlins, an' the first house we meet we'll ax their char--,
their assistance. Come on, darlins, and all of yees. Why my heart's
asier, so it is. Sure we have your mother, childhre, safe wid us, an'
what signifies anything so long as she's left to us?"

He then raised his wife tenderly, for she had been compelled to sit from
weakness, and they bent their steps to a decent farmhouse that stood a
few perches off the road, about a quarter of a mile before them.

As they approached the door, the husband hesitated a moment; his face
got paler than usual, and his lip quivered, as he said--"Kathleen--"

"I know what you're goin' to say, Owen. No, acushla, you won't; I'll ax
it myself."

"Do," said Owen, with difficulty; "I can't do it; but I'll overcome my
pride afore long, I hope. It's thryin' to me, Kathleen, an' you know it
is--for you know how little I ever expected to be brought to this."

"Husht, avillish! We'll thry, then, in the name o' God."

As she spoke, the children, herself, and her husband entered, to beg,
for the first time in their lives, a morsel of food. Yes! timidly--with
a blush, of shame, red even to crimson, upon the pallid features
of Kathleen--with grief acute and piercing--they entered the house
together.

For some minutes they stood and spoke not. The unhappy woman,
unaccustomed to the language of supplication, scarcely knew in what
terms to crave assistance. Owen himself stood back, uncovered, his
fine, but much changed features overcast with an expression of
deep affliction. Kathleen cast a single glance, at him, as if for
encouragement. Their eyes met; she saw the upright man--the last remnant
of the M'Carthy--himself once the friend of the poor, of the unhappy, of
the afflicted--standing crushed and broken down by misfortunes which he
had not deserved, waiting with patience for a morsel of charity. Owen,
too, had his remembrances. He recollected the days when he sought and
gained the pure and fond affections of his Kathleen: when beauty, and
youth, and innocence encircled her with their light and their grace, as
she spoke or m