Year: 1877

the poor old souls clustered around the young
heiress, shaking her hands, blessing her. and
welcoming her to their heart of hearts, mani
festing in every word that innate politeness
and sweet simplicity so characteristic OF their
Irish nature.


We shall not attempt to describe the scene
of festiyIty that followed. No English pen
could possibly do it justice, however truly
an English heart might appreciate its innocent
healthy gaety. 1t was all that an Irish feast
and nobody enjoyed it more thoroughly than
Maude Neville. OF course she opened the ball
with DIR. O'Meara; after which the dancing
was kept mp with so much vigor, and 30 few
interruptions that the only wonder was that
either the dancers, or the old fiddler, could pos
sibly bold out SO long. Short, however, rs
were the intervals, Maude took advantage Of
them to make friends with her guests, and
during the earlier part of the evening she
passed from one bright little group to another,
with either her uncle or one of her cousins
After q time however, q chance remark drop
ped by Mr. Neville the 'flux and reflex of
the dancing thong plunged himself and the
professor once again into an argument they
nad been holding all the afternoon on the
tides; and when the next pause occurred in
the dance Maude looked around in vain for Il
conductor. Her uncle was far too deep in CEN
trifugal force to pay any attention TO appeal
ing eyes, however bright and as Fanny aud
Harry had gone to the house to help with the
supper, Maude far too retiring to venture
across the room alone. was seating herself
again, with q sigh of disappointment, when
the doctOr's stalwart arm presented itself. She
smiled her thanks, and rs together they passed
do wn the room it would have been difficult to
have found happier mau in all the world than
the one prayer of his life seemed to have been
answered, for in the quiveripg lips and BEAM
ing eyes of the young neiress he seemed TO see
presage of the happiness of ber people. What
mighty streams of love might take their
sources in her friendly whispers to them


What years of deep devotion. such as they
bad paid cher mother, might have their birth
in those kindly smiles Would to God n she
though all unheard, found a response in many
q heart around them.


After q very short Interval the fiddlers struck
up again, aud the dancing recommended. The
doctor led Mics Neville TO a chair, and there
being no logger any swaips too bashful to find
partners for themselves, seated himself beside
her. AS he did so u grati6ed expression stole
over her face that would have soreiy puzzled
her friends in May Fair. What could it mat
ter to her, they would have asked, the conrted,
petted, beautiful heiress-to her at whose feet
names and pripcely fortunes had been laid in
vain what could il signify to her whether
that country doctor sat and talked to her or
not = Nothing surely, yet certain that she did
look pleased, and listened to his conversation
with an interest that would have turned her
London suitors green and yellow with jea!
ousy.


She could hardly have done other wise, for
though his theme was only the Joys 8Dd 6OT-
rows of few poor obscure Zrishmen and Irish
women, he spoke with the impressiveness Of q
philanthropst, who, all unmindful of himself,
pleads the canse of others. She had herself
commenced the conversation by asking him q
question concerning the potato famine, q sub
ject on which he gladly enlarged, because it
had hsppeped during the residence of her pa
rent on their estate, and served him as an ex-
ample to show her how even such q scourge as
that might be alleviated by the care and fore
thought of a kind hearted and sensible land
lord-hy one who understood not only the
duty. but the policy, of assisting his tenantry
10 their distress, and of leaving no means
untried to mitigate their sufferings He de-
soribed to her how, by the care of Sir Morcar,
nntiriug devotion of the parish priest, the
Neville estates had suffered less than any other
around them. and bad sooner recovered from
the shock. Then he reversed the picture, and
showed her the change that had taken
place in the condition OF the people in con-
sequence of her fathers absence and her
own minority. He embellished nothing. sup
pressed nothing, levelled no word of reproach
or opprobrium at Co'quboun, but told her, in
words of plain unvarnlshed truth. all that the
tenautry had endured during the long years
that had passed since Sir Morcar lad first left
them at the mercy of stranger It
weary tale of suffering and oppression, and
his deep voice trembed with emotion as he
spoke of entire families turned ont by the
wayside to make way for richer tenants; of old
men dying of broken hearts in the parish
union, of Yong ones goaded by desperation to
a desire of vengeance that Father Donovan's
constant and IN unwearied efforts had alone kept
in check


With her whole soul in her eyes, Maude sat
and listened 10 him as, in low, earnest tones
he told her this, mingled with story after story
of silent suffering and hidden deeds of heroism,
till at last the whole scene of revelry, with its
music and joyous faces. appeared to pass away
and Maude seemed to be following him, trem-
bling and alone, through all that her people
had seen and suffered since her father had
quilted them.


(To be continued.)