CHAPTER V. THE MAJOR AND HIS CHILD.
Maureen O'Brien had all her life been the sort of child who instinctively thought of others rather than herself. In the long, long ago, after the death of her sweet and beautiful young French mother, she had comforted her father by every means in her power. But when Maureen was very young and her father was feeling that he must bear the parting with her, and must send her to his brother to England, his own death put an end to the necessary sacrifice. The gallant Major was badly wounded in one of those terrible border wars, while trying to rescue a fellow-officer, from under the range of the enemies' guns. His brother officer lived, but Major O'Brien, after lingering long enough to obtain the Victoria Cross, and to see his only and most beloved brother and his little child, passed away to join his sweet young wife again; and Maureen, who all these six years of her young life had been taken care of in the Hills, was brought back to Ireland by Uncle Pat. There she was much loved both by Uncle Pat, who was so very like father, and also by his dear first wife, a gentle lady who took the orphan child to her heart of hearts.
In truth it would be difficult not to love Maureen, for there was something wonderfully taking about her. She was like a little woman in her ways, but she had the beautiful heart of a child. She was able to see her father before he died, and the child's wonderful self-restraint and courage amazed the Rector of Templemore.
"You are going up to God's good and beautiful world, daddy-mine," said Maureen. "I have read about it time and again. Oh, no, daddy mine, I'm not going to fret; it would be selfish for Maureen to fret; wouldn't it, daddy?"
The dying soldier managed to whisper, "Yes, Maureen. Keep up your heart, my brave one. You are going to my twin-brother, and Pat will be good to you."
Then the soldier hero ceased to speak, but there came a shining light of triumph into his eyes, and he looked up very joyfully, and thus he entered into his eternal rest.
Maureen, who had promised not to fret, kept her word like the little Briton she was, and she was in truth very happy as long as Auntie Eileen lived; but one day the call came for auntie, and she too went away—up—up—up like the lark, and Uncle Pat got very ill and the doctors ordered him abroad. While there, in an evil moment, he met the woman who became the second Mrs. O'Brien. What possessed him to marry her could never be accounted for. People whispered, however, each to the other, that she had married him, taking the business entirely into her own hands. Then, indeed, peace fled very quickly from Templemore, and little Maureen began to feel the thorns of life pricking her here, there, and everywhere.