; everything was simple in
its beauty. The quiet charm, the serene light, the air of happiness
and peace that reposed upon all he saw, stirred up a thousand tender
feelings in a heart whose gentle character resembled that of the
prospect which it felt so exquisitely. The smoke of a few farm-houses
and cottages rose in blue, graceful columns to the air, giving just
that appearance of life which was necessary; and a figure or two, with
lengthened shadows, moved across the fields and meadows a little below
where he stood.

But our readers need not to be told, that there was one spot which,
beyond all others, riveted his attention. On that spot his eager eye
rested long and intensely. The spell of its remembrance had clung to
his early heart: he had never seen it in his dreams without weeping;
and often had the agitation of his imaginary sorrow awoke him with his
eye-lashes steeped in tears. He looked down on it steadily. At length he
was moved with a strong sensation like grief: he sobbed twice or thrice,
and the tears rolled in showers from his eyes. His gathering affections
were relieved by this: he felt lighter, and in the same slow manner rode
onward to his father's house.

To this there were two modes of access: one by a paved bridle-way, or
boreen, that ran up directly before the door--the other by a green lane,
that diverged from the boreen about a furlong below the house. He took
the latter, certain that the family could not notice his approach, nor
hear the noise of his horse's footsteps, until he could arrive at the
very threshold.. On dismounting, he felt that he could scarcely walk. He
approached the door, however, as steadily as he could. He entered--and
the family, who had just finished their supper, rose up, as a mark of
their respect to the stranger.

"Is this," he inquired, "the house in which Dominick M'Evoy lives?"

"That's my name, sir," replied Dominick. "The family, I trust,
are--all--well? I have been desired--but--no--no--I cannot--I
cannot--father!--mother!

"It's him!" shrieked the mother--"Its himself!--Jemmy"

"Jemmy!--Jemmy!" shouted the lather, with a cry of joy which might be
heard far beyond the house.

"Jemmy!--our poor Jemmy!--Jemmy!!" exclaimed his brothers and sisters.

"Asy, childhre," said the father--"asy; let the mother to him--let her
to him. Who has the right that she has? Vara, asthore--Vara, think of
yourself. God of heaven! what is comin' over her?--Her brain's turned!"