For a time—a sweet, short, happy time—all went well. Then misfortunes began to gather, one by one.
First the crops failed, the cows died, and Leyden fell ill of a fever, and lay helpless for many months. Little by little their savings dwindled into insignificance, and to crown all, the landlord gave them notice to vacate their farm, for which he had been offered a higher rent.
There was but one hope and prospect for the future. Through many a sorrowful day and weary night the husband and wife endeavored to combat the alternative, but at last they could no longer deny that the only hope for days to come lay in a present parting.
So it had come to pass that Leyden was starting for America, leaving his wife and children partly to the care of a well-to-do brother of the former, partly to the resources she might be able to draw from fine sewing and embroidery, in both of which she was very skilful. Our story opens on the morning of his departure.
It did not take the sorrowful couple many minutes to finish their morning meal. As the hour for parting approached, each strove to assume a semblance of cheerfulness before the other, while each read in the other's eyes the sad denial.
Soon kind-hearted neighbors dropped in, one by one, to wish the traveller God-speed, and to take a sorrowful leave of the friend from whom poverty and misfortune had not estranged his more prosperous neighbors. For it is in adversity that the fidelity of the Irish character manifests itself, and proves by what deep and enduring ties heart clings to heart.
It was not long before the car that was to convey Leyden to the next town came rolling along the road. As he heard the sound of the wheels, he turned from the fire-place where he had been standing, and motioned to a young fellow near him to carry out the heavily-strapped box that contained all a thoughtful though straitened love could provide for his comfort.
As though respectful of their grief, the neighbors passed from the room and the husband and wife were left alone.
Very quickly but tenderly the man lifted each of the children from the floor, and kissed them several times.
Then he turned to where his wife stood, close to him, yet not touching him, as though she felt that a nearer presence would destroy her well-assumed calmness. He looked at her for an instant yearningly, then held her away from him for another, while she buried her face in her hands; then with a convulsive sob he flung both strong arms around her, and they wept together.