She here gave Connor a private signal to be firm, pointing unobservedly to Una's pale cheek, which at that moment lay upon her bosom.
“Connor,” she proceeded, “Oona has what you sent her. Nogher—an' he is breakin' his heart too—gave it to me; an' my daughter, for I will always call her so, has it this minute next her lovin' heart. Here is hers, an' let it lie next yours.”
Connor seized the glossy ringlet from his mother's hand, and placed it at the moment next to the seat of his undying affection for the fair girl from whose ebon locks it had been taken.
His mother then kissed Una again, and, rising, said—
“Now, my daughther, remimber I am your mother, an' obey me.”
“I will,” said Una, attempting to repress her grief—“I will; but—”
“Yes, darlin', you will. Now, Connor, my son, my son—Connor?”
“What is it, mother, darlin'?”
“We're goin', Connor,—we're lavin' you—be firm—be a man. Aren't you my son, Connor? my only son—an' the ould man—an' never, never more—kneel down—kneel down, till I bless you. Oh, many, many a blessin' has risen from your mother's lips an' your mother's heart, to Heaven for you, my son, my son!”
Connor knelt, his heart bursting, but he knelt not alone. By his side was his own Una, with meek and bended head, awaiting for his mothers blessing.