"I mean," replied her husband, "that our cabin is so small and poor, and the castle near by so big and grand, that it's natural Providence should overlook us just, and attend to the affairs of the quality. It's the way of the world."
"It may be the way of the world, but it's no the way with God, Philip. Our cabin is bigger than a sparrow's nest, afther all, and we—even you, miserable sinner, as ye are, 'are of more value than many sparrows.' 'The likes of us,' indade! Have ye ever come yet to sleeping in a stable in Bethlehem, among cows and sheep and asses? Answer me that! Ah, it's ashamed of you, I am, Philip O'Flaherty."
The next morning, this poor couple sat down to a breakfast of only half a dozen potatoes and a little salt.
"Philip, dear," said Nelly, sadly, when they had finished, "these are our last potatoes—I have sold all the rest to pay our rent, and the Doctor's little account, just."
"Blessed Saints!" exclaimed Philip, "what'll we do?"
"I'm afraid we must ask charity, till we can get work," said Nelly.
"No, no! I can't do that! I will die first!" cried Philip; then laying his face down on the table, he burst into tears and sobbed out—"Oh Nelly, darling, I wish I were dead and out of your way!—sure I'm no use in the world."
Nelly clasped the "strange baby" to her heart and murmured—"God help us!" Just at that moment, there came a knock at the cabin door—she opened it and dropped a respectful curtesy. It was the Earl, and a gentleman in mourning, who as soon as he saw the baby that Nelly held, caught it in his arms and began kissing it, and weeping over it, crying out that he had found his boy! The Earl explained that the stranger was a kinsman of his, a Scotch Laird, whose wife had been lost in the wreck, a few weeks before, while on her way to visit her relatives at the castle, with her child and servants. He said, they had not received the letter announcing her coming—so had not thought of looking for friends among the drowned and burned who were washed ashore after the wreck; but they had heard of the child so miraculously saved, and hoped that it might be their kinsman's son.
When Nelly fully realized that she must lose her adopted child, she fell at the feet of the father, crying with tears and sobs,—"Oh, sir, I cannot let him go! I warmed him out of the death-chill at my heart—I gave him my own dead darling's place! It will kill me, just, to part with him!"
"And you shall not part with him, my good woman," said the Laird—"the child must have a nurse—he should have none but you. I will take you and your husband with me to Scotland, if you will come!"