trembling voice; "but
'tis not worth while. Know, sir, that within twenty-four hours after I
caught her with that villain, I lay a-dying for her sake; and lost my
wits; and, when I came to, they were a-making my shroud in the very room
where I lay. No matter; no matter; I never loved her."

"Alas! poor soul!" sighed Kate. "Would I had died ere I brought thee to
that!" And, with this, they both began to cry at the same moment.

"Ay, poor fools," said Father Francis, softly; "neither of ye loved t'
other; that is plain. So now sit you there, and let us have your
explanation; for you must own appearances are strong against you."

Mrs. Gaunt drew her stool to Francis's knee; and addressing herself to
him alone, explained as follows:--

"I saw Father Leonard was giving way, and only wanted one good push,
after a manner. Well, you know I had got him, by my friends, a good
place in Ireland: and I had money by me for his journey; so, when my
husband talked of going to the fair, I thought, 'O, if I could but get
this settled to his mind before he comes back!' So I wrote a line to
Leonard. You can read it if you like. 'T is dated the 30th of September,
I suppose."

"I will," said Francis, and read this out:--

"DEAR FATHER AND FRIEND,--You have fought the good fight, and
conquered. Now, therefore, I _will_see you once more, and thank
you for my husband (he is so unhappy), and put the money for
your journey into your hand myself,--your journey to Ireland.
You are the Duke of Leinster's chaplain; for I have accepted
that place for you. Let me see you to-morrow in the Grove, for
a few minutes, at high noon. God bless you.

"CATHARINE GAUNT."

"Well, father," said Mrs. Gaunt, "'t is true that I could only walk two
or three times across the room. But, alack, you know what women are:
excitement gives us strength. With thinking that our unhappiness was at
an end,--that, when he should come back from the fair, I should fling my
arm round his neck, and tell him I had removed the cause of his misery,
and so of mine,--I seemed to have wings; and I did walk with Leonard,
and talked with rapture of the good he was to do in Ireland, and how he
was to be a mitred abbot one day (for he is a great man), and poor
little me be proud of him; and how we were all to be happy together in
heaven, where is no marrying nor giving in marriage. This was our
discourse; and I was just putting t