"I was a child in years and wisdom, and suspected nothing. I felt angry at his desertion, and cried like the petted child I was, at his absence. The woman was very kind to me, though I saw she looked upon me with a sort of contempt, the reason of which I did not then understand. Still, she took good care of me, and in a fortnight I was as well as ever.
"One evening, I sat in my room silent and alone (for I was not permitted to go out), and crying like a spoiled baby, when the sound of a well-known voice reached my ear from the adjoining room. With a cry of joy, I sprang to my feet, rushed from the room, and fell into the arms of my husband. In my joy at meeting him, I did not perceive, at first, the change those few weeks had made in him. He was pale and haggard, and there was an unaccountable something in his manner that puzzled me. He was not less affectionate; but he seemed wild, and restless, and ill at ease.
"My first inquiry was for my child.
"'It is dead, Eveleen,' he answered, hurriedly; 'and you were so ill that it became necessary to bring you here. Now that you are better, you must leave this and come with me.'
"'And you will publicly proclaim our marriage, and we will not be separated more?' I eagerly inquired.
"He made no answer, save to urge me to make haste. In a few moments I was ready; a carriage at the door. He handed me in, then followed, and we drove rapidly away.
"'Where are we going?' I asked, as we drove along.
"'Back to Ireland; you are always wishing to return.'
"'But you will go with me, will you not?' I asked, in vague alarm.
"'Yes, yes; to be sure,' he answered, quickly. Just then, the murmur of the sea reached my ear; the carriage stopped, and my husband assisted me out.