"Me! what do I think?—you know I'd do anything you bid me. Won't you step in and tell father about it?"
"Oh, you can tell him. I couldn't make him understand it at all, he's so foolish."
Feemy bore the slur on her father without indignation.
"But, Myles, if you go so soon, am I to go with you?" and when after a few minutes he did not answer,—"Speak, Myles, an't we to be married before you go?" When she said this, she sat down on the old sofa, looking up into his face, as if she would read there what was passing in his mind. That which was passing in his mind must be the arbitrament of her fate.
"Why, Feemy, how can you be so foolish?—How can we be married in eight days' time? I must go, I tell you, in eight days from this."
"But you won't go to this new place then. You'll be back here, won't you, before you go to Cashel?"
"How can I be back again?—No, I could not be back again then; besides, Feemy, I wouldn't be married in this place after what your brother and Father John said to me last night. If we are to be married at all, it can't be here."
"If we are to be married!" exclaimed Feemy, rising up—"if we are! Why, Myles, what do you mean?" and rushing to him she threw her arms round his neck, and hiding her face on his bosom, she continued, "Oh, Myles! you don't mean to desert me! Myles—dear Myles—my own Myles—don't you love me?—you won't leave me now—say you won't leave me!" and she sobbed and cried as though her heart was breaking.
Ussher put his arm round her waist and kissed her; he seated her on the sofa—sat down by her—and tried to comfort her by caresses: but he still said nothing.
"Why don't you speak, Myles? I shall die if you don't speak! Only tell me what you mean to do; I'll do anything you bid me, if you'll only say you don't mean to desert me."