"Your duty is to give me my letter. If you only knew how near you were to sudden death you would be in haste to get away from me."
"There you are, five letters—one for you. Let me see; is it for you?" Martin began to read the address over.
"Oh, the Lord forgive you! You are an occasion of sin to me."
"Patience, Miss Molly! Here you are, and good-day to you. The Lord send you a better temper!"
Martin delivered the letters, and proceeded placidly on his path of duty. Molly Healy watched him until he had turned a distant corner.
"The man will never get to heaven—he is too slow; and he will prevent me getting there unless Providence removes him to another round."
She carried the letters to Father Healy, and then proceeded to shut herself in her room, and there absorb the news from Ireland. In laughter and in tears she read her letter, and then re-read it, determined to lose not one word of the contents.
Dr. Marsh was with Father Healy when the letters came.
"May I read them?" the priest asked.
"Certainly! Why not?" replied the doctor in his brusque manner. "I will digest a slice of theology."