"To be sure you will, with Winifred here; and I hope, if it be God's will, we'll all be here to receive you."
"I hope so indeed," I answered.
"I had a letter a few days ago from Father Brady in New York," went on Father Owen. "I was in the seminary with him in France. He knows you well and is glad I made your acquaintance."
"I have known Father Brady for many years," I replied; "he is a great friend of mine."
The old priest nodded as if to express his satisfaction. I thought, perhaps, he had written to make assurance doubly sure as to my fitness for the care of the child. If so, I could only admire his wisdom.
"Niall is in a bad way," he whispered; "and will be, I don't doubt, for days to come. I met him raging and tearing through the woods like a maniac. That is his manner of expressing grief. It was useless to argue with him, so I just had to come away and leave him."
I told Father Owen how shocked I was to hear this, but he answered:
"Oh, he will get over the worst of it in a few days! How different, though, from Granny Meehan! I went in to see her yesterday. She's marked with grace, is that poor blind woman. 'It's God's will for the child to go,' she said; 'and if I never have her with me again here below, why, we'll meet above in glory, and we'll be the happier for this sorrow.' Wasn't that beautiful, my dear lady? didn't it make me ashamed of my own shortcomings!"
I assented heartily.