"Well, we have them, and ancient history and algebra—oh, that awful algebra!—to-morrow. So I think I must be going."
"Good-by!" I said; "and, Winifred, don't forget to say a prayer sometimes for your father, that you may see him again in this world, and both be happy together."
"I won't forget!" Winifred promised. "I always pray for my mother, who is dead."
"That is right, dear; but you must remember the living as well. And now good-by again!"
"I am going to run all the way back," she announced.
"Very well; I will stand and watch you. Now for the run! Let us see how quick you can get up the avenue."
She was off like a deer darting to cover; and it reminded me of the time when I had seen her running amongst the hills, springing lightly from peak to peak and almost horrifying me by her reckless movements.
"I should like her to have had a few years at the convent," I thought; "the refined atmosphere there would be just what she needs to tone down her high spirits and give her the touches she requires. But I suppose when Niall hears all he will be too impatient for the reunion with those he loves to wait. Besides, it would be unjust to Roderick. I must explain everything to him as soon as I get Niall's permission."
I pondered thus all the way to town, and wondered how soon I could hear from Ireland, and how I should pass the intervening time till my letters arrived. But in New York time flies, and the days seem all too short for the multitude of affairs; so that week followed week and ran into months before I realized that my letters remained unanswered.