Barry leaned over the bed, and kissed her, and then crept out of the room, and down the stairs, with the tears streaming down his red cheeks; and skulked across the street to his own house, with his hat slouched over his face, and his handkerchief held across his mouth.
CHAPTER XXV.
ANTY LYNCH’S BED-SIDE; SCENE THE SECOND
Anty was a good deal exhausted by her interview with her brother, but towards evening she rallied a little, and told Jane, who was sitting with her, that she wanted to say one word in private, to Martin. Jane was rather surprised, for though Martin was in the habit of going into the room every morning to see the invalid, Anty had never before asked for him. However, she went for Martin, and found him.
“Martin,” said she; “Anty wants to see you alone, in private.”
“Me?” said Martin, turning a little red. “Do you know what it’s about?”
“She didn’t say a word, only she wanted to see you alone; but I’m thinking it’s something about her brother; he was with her a long long time this morning, and went away more like a dead man than a live one. But come, don’t keep her waiting; and, whatever you do, don’t stay long; every word she spakes is killing her.”
Martin followed his sister into the sick-room, and, gently taking Anty’s offered hand, asked her in a whisper, what he could do for her. Jane went out; and, to do her justice sat herself down at a distance from the door, though she was in a painful state of curiosity as to what was being said within.
“You’re all too good to me, Martin,” said Anty; “you’ll spoil me, between you, minding every word I say so quick.”
Martin assured her again, in a whisper, that anything and everything they could do for her was only a pleasure.
“Don’t mind whispering,” said Anty; “spake out; your voice won’t hurt me. I love to hear your voices, they’re all so kind and good. But Martin, I’ve business you must do for me, and that at once, for I feel within me that I’ll soon be gone from this.”