olved, the spirit
of the departed returns and haunts the survivor until it be cancelled.

When Denis and Susan had reached the hawthorn, they both knelt down.
So exhausted, however, had Susan been by the agitation of her feelings,
that Denis was under the necessity of assisting her to the place.
He could perceive, too, that, amid the workings of her religious
enthusiasm, she trembled like an aspen leaf.

"Now," said she, "you are stronger than I am, begin and repeat the
words; I will repeat them with you."

"No," replied Denis, "I will never begin. I will never be the first to
seal both your misery and mine."

"I am scarcely able," said she; "dear Denis, don't ask me to do what
I have not strength for. But it's useless," she added; "you will never
begin unless I do."

They then blessed themselves after the form of their church, and as they
extended their right hands to each other, the tears fell fast from the
eyes of both. The words they repeated were the same, with the difference
of the name only.

"I, Susan Connor, in the presence of God, do release you, Denis
O'Shaughnessy, from your promise of marriage to me, and from all
promises of marriage that you ever made me. I now give you back that
promise of marriage, and all promises of marriage you ever made me. To
which I call God to witness."

Denis repeated the same words, substituting the name of Susan Connor.

The sobs of Susan were loud and incessant, even before she had concluded
the words; their eyes were fixed upon each other with a hopeless and
agonizing expression: but no sooner were they uttered, than a strong
hysteric sense of suffocation rose to her throat; she panted rapidly for
breath; Denis opened his arms, and she fell, or rather threw herself,
over in a swoon upon his bosom. To press his lips to hers, and carry her
to the brink of the well, was but the work of a moment. There he laid
her, and after having sprinkled her face with water, proceeded to slap
the palms of her hands, exclaiming,--

"Susan, my beloved, will you not hear me? Oh, look upon me, my heart's
dearest treasure, and tell me that you're living. Gracious God! her
heart is broken--she is dead! This--this--is the severest blow of all! I
have killed her!"

She opened her eyes as he spoke, and Denis, in stooping to assist her,
weeping at the same time like a child; received--a bang from a cudgel
that made his head ring.

"Your sowl to the divil, you larned vagabone," said her fa