rself into her friend's arms.

'Oh, of course I forgive you,' cried Alice, deeply affected. 'I had no
right to lecture you in the way I did; but I meant it for the best,
indeed I did.'

'I know you did, but I lost my temper. Ah, if you knew how sorely I was
tried you would forgive me.'

'I do forgive you, May dear; but tell me, cannot I help you now? You
know that you can confide in me, and I will do any thing in my power to
help you.'

'No one can help me now,' said the girl sullenly.

Alice did not speak at once, but at the end of a long silence she said:

'Does Fred Scully love you no more?'

'I do not know whether he does or not; nor does it matter much. He's not
in Ireland. He's far away by this time.'

'Where is he?'

'He's gone to Australia. He wrote to me about two months ago to say that
all had been decided in a few hours, and that he was to sail next
morning. He's gone out with some racehorses, and expects to win a lot of
money. He'll be back again in a year.'

'A year isn't long to wait; you'll see him when he comes back.'

'I don't think I should care to see him again. Oh, you were right,
Alice, to warn me against him. I was foolish not to listen to you, but
it was too late even then.'

Alice trembled; she had already guessed the truth, but hoping when she
knew all hope was vain, she said:

'You had better tell me, May; you know I am to be trusted.'

'Can't you guess it?'

The conversation fell, and the girls sat staring into the depths of the
wood. Involuntarily their eyes followed a small bird that ran up branch
after branch of a beech-tree, pecking as it went. It seemed like a toy
mouse, so quick and unvarying were its movements. At last May said, and
very dolorously:

'Alice, I thought you were kinder; haven't you a word of pity? Why tell
you, why ask me to tell you? Oh! what a fool I was!'

'Oh! no, no, May, you did right to tell me. I am more sorry for you than
words can express, and I didn't speak because I was trying to think of
some way of helping you.'

'Oh! there's no--no way of helping me, dear. There's nothing for me to
do but to die.' And now giving way utterly, the girl buried her face in
her hands and sobbed until it seemed that she would choke in thick
grief.

'Oh! May, May dear, you mustn't cry like that: if anyone were to come
by, what would they think?'

'What does it matter? Everyone will know sooner or later--I wish I were
dead--dead and out of sight for ever