"No," was my reply, more frank than civil.
"Indeed you are, and the proof of it is that of your own accord you are going to give me a kiss."
I was astounded at the audacious idea. I never kissed any one but my father. Alas! I fear I thought myself and my childish caresses very precious things indeed. Cornelius laughed, and stooped; but as he gently released my hands at the same time, I eluded the caress, and darted through the open door up the dark staircase. Sarah wanted to rush after me. Cornelius interfered, and again said I was shy.
"Shy, Sir! shy!" echoed Sarah with a short, indignant laugh, "bless you, Sir, it is pride: she is as proud as Lucifer, and as obstinate, too. I could beat that child to death, Sir, and not make her kiss me. No one knows how she has tried my feelings. I am naturally fond of children, and I have been in families where young ladies used to doat on me, and scarcely care for their Mas, much less for their Pas; but with Miss Margaret it is just the reverse. You may wait on her, scold, praise, coax; it is all one: she cares for no one but for her Pa—of whom she is as jealous as can be, Sir; and if she doesn't like you, Sir, why she won't like you, and there's an end of it."
He laughed, as she paused, out of breath at the volubility with which she had spoken. I waited not to hear more, but softly stole up to my room. I feared neither darkness nor solitude; besides the moon had risen, and her pale, mild light fell on the floor. So I sat down by my bed, laid my head on the pillow, and, as I thus faced the window, I looked at the open sky beyond it, and watched a whole flock of soft white clouds slowly journeying towards the west. I thought to remain thus until I should hear the well-known tramp of my father's horse coming down the stony road, but unconsciously my eyes closed and I fell fast asleep.
How long I slept I cannot tell. I know that I had a fearful dream, which I have never been able to remember, and that I woke with the cold dews on my brow and an awful dread at my heart. I looked up trembling with terror; a large dark cloud was passing over the moon; in my room there was the gloom of midnight, but not its silence. Unusual tumult filled our quiet home; I listened and heard the voices of strange men, and above them that of Sarah, rising loud in lamentation, and exclaiming, "Oh! my poor master!"
My next remembrance is, that standing on the steps of the staircase, I looked down at something passing below; that a sharp current of cold air came from the open front door, beyond which I caught sight of a starry sky; that on the threshold of the parlour stood, with their backs to me, three men in coarse jackets; and that, looking beyond them in the room, I saw Sarah weeping bitterly, and holding a flickering light, whilst Cornelius O'Reilly bent over my father, who sat in his chair motionless and deadly pale. He said something; Cornelius looked at Sarah; she laid down the light, came out, shut the door, and all vanished like a vision lost in sudden obscurity. And a vision I might have thought it, but for the subdued speech that followed. Sarah was sobbing in the dark passage.
"Come, girl, don't take on so," said a man's voice, speaking low, "where's the use? Any one can see it is all over with the poor doctor."
"Oh! don't," incoherently exclaimed Sarah, "don't."
"He said so himself, and he ought to know. 'It is all over with me, Dick,' says he, when we picked him up from where that cursed horse had thrown him; 'take me home to die,' says he, 'take me home to die.'"