CHAPTER VI.
I felt a little bewildered. The night and the spot were both dark; all I could see was a low garden-wall, half lost in the shadow of a few tall trees, and a narrow wooden door. The gleam of light that appeared through the chinks, and the sound of a quick step on the gravel within, spared Cornelius the trouble of ringing. The door opened of its own accord, and on the threshold appeared a lady in black, holding a low lamp in her right hand. We entered; she closed the door upon us, and, almost immediately, flung the arm that was free around the neck of Cornelius.
"God bless you!" she exclaimed eagerly, and speaking in a warm ardent tone, that sounded like a gentle echo of his; "God bless you! I have been so wretched!"
"Did you not get my letter?"
"Yes, but I had such a dream!"
"A dream! Oh Kate!" he spoke with jesting reproach, but pausing in the path, he stooped and kissed his sister several times, each time more tenderly.
"How is the child? Where is she?" asked Miss O'Reilly.
"She is here, and well. By the bye, I have left her little property outside."
"Deborah shall fetch it. Take her in."
We were entering the house, which stood at the end of the garden.