stare of amazement, as quickly followed by a
laugh, whose insulting mockery made Owen's cheek crimson with shame.

"True enough, Phil Joyce; I know your meanin' well," said he, with an
immense effort to subdue his passion. "I'm a poor cottier, wid a bit of
mountain-land--sorra more--and has no right to look up to one like her.
But listen to me, Phil!" and here he grasped his arm, and spoke with a
thick guttural accent: "Listen to me! Av the girl wasn't what she is,
but only your sister, I'd scorn her as I do yourself;" and with that,
he pushed him from him with a force that made him stagger. Before he had
well recovered, Owen was again at his side, and continued:--"And now,
one word more, and all's ended between us. For you, and your likings or
mis-likings, I never cared a rush: but 'tis Mary herself refused me, so
there's no more about it; only don't be wreaking your temper on her, for
she has no fault in it."

"Av a sister of mine ever bestowed a thought on the likes o' ye, I'd
give her the outside of the door this night," said Joyce, whose courage
now rose from seeing several of his faction attracted to the spot, by
observing that he and Connor were conversing. "'Tis a disgrace--divil a
less than a disgrace to spake of it!"

"Well, we won't do so any more, plaze God!" said Owen, with a smile of
very fearful meaning. "It will be another little matter we'll have to
settle when we meet, next. There's a score there, not paid off yet:"
and at the word he lifted his hat, and disclosed the deep mark of the
scarce-closed gash on his forehead: "and so, good bye to ye."

A rude nod from Phil Joyce was all the reply, and Owen turned homewards.

If prosperity could suggest the frame of mind to enjoy it, the rich
would always be happy; but such is not the dispensation of Providence.
Acquisition is but a stage on the road of ambition; it lightens the way,
but brings the goal no nearer. Owen never returned to his mountain-home
with a sadder heart. He passed without regarding them, the little
fields, now green with the coming spring; he bestowed no look nor
thought upon the herds that already speckled the mountain-side;
disappointment had embittered his spirit; and even love itself now gave
way to faction-hate, the old and cherished animosity of party.

If the war of rival factions did not originally spring from the personal
quarrels of men of rank and station, who stimulated their followers
and adherents to acts of aggression