"Shure there's me mother—maybe me father too; but you could scarce get them here, miss—beggin' your honour's pardon," she added hastily.
"Is there no one else, Eily? no one that you think of sometimes—no one who was kind to you, and loved you dearly?" Bee was leaning over the wan face eagerly, and what she saw for answer was a deep crimson flush that covered face, neck, and brow, while tears rolled down the cheeks. Eily had been thinking of Dermot continually of late, wishing with all her heart that she had not so scorned his love; she had learnt many lessons in the quiet watches of the night and the weary hours of weakness through which she had passed.
Bee Vandaleur said no more, but patted the dark curls gently. "Don't cry, Eily, all will be right soon," and she left the room.
Eily was alone once more.
"Ah, Dermot, Dermot asthore! why was it I trated ye so!" The tears were trickling through her fingers, and her heart was aching with self-reproach.
"Eily, mavourneen!"
The tear-stained fingers were taken in two big, strong hands, and Dermot, with a depth of love in his eyes, bent over the sorrow-stricken face and laid a kiss on the quivering lips; not another word was spoken, but Dermot's protecting arms were around her, and with her head on the heart that throbbed with love and devotion all the past was blotted out, all her folly forgotten, and Eily found rest.
In a surprisingly short time Eily regained her health; happiness is the best of medicine, and Eily felt she had as much as her heart could hold. Looking at Dermot with a lover's eyes she found out all that was noble and good in him, and when he asked her to be his wife ere a week had flown by she gave a glad consent.
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON