"What sort of fellow is he?" asked the priest coldly.
The lady hesitated. In spite of her pity, she did not fancy Larry; neither did she like the coldness the priest showed toward him. "He is a very handsome young man," she said presently, "and very well dressed."
The father shrugged his shoulders. "Oh! then he should be admitted without delay."
She must, of course, free herself from such an imputation. "He looks weak and faithless," she said; "but his grief is genuine; and his having come so far shows that he loves his brother."
"You might tell Dougherty tonight, and let Larry in to-morrow morning if he behaves himself."
Mrs. Raynor sat by her patient without speaking, till presently he looked at her and smiled faintly. "May the Lord reward you, ma'am!" he said fervently. "You've been a good friend to me."
"Here is a note from your brother," she said. "Shall I read it to you?"
He glanced eagerly at the folded paper in her hand—a note which, in the midst of his lamentations, Larry had written and entreated her to take up to his brother.
"Read it!" the sick man said, making an effort to turn toward her.
"Would you like very much to see your brother?" she asked.