at there is
nothing too powerful for God's strength and love?" she exclaimed; she
then kissed her son, who burst into tears, and tenderly embraced her.

"See how unexpectedly He can surround even this cowld death-bed with his
mercy."

"Don't say a death-bed", my dear mother, for now that the blight of
raison has left you, I hope you'll get new strength."

"I will," she replied, with a feeble but Mournful smile, "I will Ned;
but it'll be in heaven with them I love, and that love me. My dear Ned,
all my cares are now over--my affections past--I will soon be out of
sorrow and out of pain: this heart will suffer no more, and this head
will no longer be distracted! Oh, the hopes of heaven, but they're sweet
and consolin' on the bed of death!"

"Cherish them, dear Mary," said Father Roche; "for I believe you will
soon--very soon indeed--realize them. Her pulse," he added, "is scarcely
perceptible, and you hear how very feeble her voice is."

"What are we to do, then?" asked her son; "do you think, my dear mother,
that you could bear removal?"

"No--ah, no,"--she replied, "No--I feel that I am going fast--my feet
and limbs are like marble, and the cowld is gettin' into my heart."

"Ah, my darling mother," said the son, in tears, "but that was the warm
and the lovin' heart!"

Father Roche then having put on his stole, went to her side, and, as
is usual in all cases of approaching death, where a priest is in
attendance, administered to her the last rites of religion. Here in the
mountain solitude did he cheer her departing spirit, as he had that of
her husband, with the sustaining hopes of a glorious immortality.

"Now," said she, "I know that I die happy; for here where I couldn't
expect it, has the light of God's mercy shone upon me. He has brought my
son to my side--He has brought the consolations of religion to my heart,
when I was lyin' helpless and alone in this mountain desert. Yes," she
said, "I forgive all those who ill-treated both me and mine--and the
worst I wish them is, to pray that God may forgive them, and turn their
hearts. And now, Hugh, I am ready--Tor-ey, my manly son, and my own
Brian, with the fair locks, we'll soon be all united again--and never to
part any more--never to part anymore! Ned," said she, "kiss me; you are
all I now lave behind me out of my fine family; but God's will be
done! I need not bid you," she added, "to bury me here, for I know you
will--and I wish you would put little Brian