"Father," said John, "I think you may rest satisfied with what you
witness; and I am sure it cannot make you or mother happy to see poor
Una miserable."

Una, who had been during the greater part of her swoon supported in
her weeping and alarmed mother's arms, now opened her eyes, and, after
casting an affrighted look about the room, she hid her face in her
mother's bosom, and exclaimed, as distinctly as the violence of sobbing
grief would permit her:

"Oh, mother dear, have pity on me! bring me up stairs and I will tell
you."

"I do, I do pity you," said the mother, kissing her; "I know you'll be a
good girl yet, Oona."

"Una," said her father, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, "was I
ever harsh to you, or did I--"

"Father dear," she returned, interrupting him, "I would have told you
and my mother, but that I was afraid."

There was something so utterly innocent and artless in this reply, that
each of the three persons present felt sensibly affected by its extreme
and childlike simplicity.

"Don't be afraid of me, Una," continued the Bodagh, "but answer--me
truly, like a good girl, and I swear upon my reputation, that I won't be
angry. Do you love the son of this Fardorougha?"

"Not, father, because he's Fardorougha's son," said Una, whose face was
still hid in her mother's bosom; "I would rather he wasn't."

"But you do love him?"

"For three years he has scarcely been out of my mind."

Something that might be termed a smile crossed the countenance of the
Bodagh at this intimation.

"God help you for a foolish child!" said he; "you're a poor counsellor
when left to defend your own cause."

"She won't defend it by a falsehood, at all events," observed her
trustworthy and affectionate brother.

"No, she wouldn't," said the mother; "and I did her wrong a while ago,
to say that she'd schame anything about it."

"And are you and Connor O'Donovan promised to aich other?" inquired the
father again.

"But it wasn't I that proposed the promise," returned Una.

"Oh, the desperate villain," exclaimed her father, "to be guilty of
such a thing! but you took the promise Una--you did--you did--I needn't
ask."

"No," replied Una.

"No!" reechoed the father; "then you did not give the promise?"

"I mean," she rejoined, "that you needn't ask."

"Oh, faith, that alters the case extremely. Now, Una, this--all this
promising that has passed between you and Connor O'Donovan is all folly.
If you prove