“No,” she replied; and as she spoke, the vibrations of sorrow and of sympathy shook her naturally sweet voice into that tender expression which touches the heart of the hearer with such singular power—“no, father,” she proceeded, “I hope not; religion teaches us a different lesson—not only to forgive our enemies, but to return good for evil.”
“It does, achora machree,” replied her father, whose eyes expressed a kind of melancholy pride, as he contemplated his beautiful but sorrowful looking girl, giving utterance to truths which added an impressive and elevated character to her beauty.
“Young and ould, achushla machree, is fallin' about us in every direction; but may the Father of Mercy spare you to us, my darlin' child, for if anything was to happen you, where—Oh, where could we look upon your aiquil, or find anything that could console us for your loss?”
“If it's my fate to go, father, I'll go, an if it isn't God will take care of me; whatever comes, I'm resigned to His will.”
“Ay, dear, an' you ever wor, too—and for the same raison God's blessin' will be upon you; but what makes you look so low, avourneen? I trust in my Saviour, you are not unwell, Mave, dear.”
“Thanks be to God, no, father; but there's a thing on my mind, that's distressin' me very much, an' I hope you'll allow me my way in it.”
“I may say so, dear; because I know you wouldn't ax me for anything that 'ud be wrong to grant you. What is it, Mave?”
“It's the unhappy an' miserable state that these poor Daltons is in,” she replied. “Father, dear, forgive me for what I'm about to say; for, although it may make you angry, there's nothin' farther from my heart than to give you offence.”
“You needn't tell me so, Mave; you need not, indeed; but sure you know, darlin', that unfortunately, we have nothing in our power to do for them; I wish to the Lord we had! Didn't we do all that people in our poor condition could do for them? Didn't you, yourself, achora, make us send them such little assistance as we could spare?—ay, even to sharin' I may say, our last morsel wid them; an' now, darlin', you know we haven't it.”
“I know that,” she replied, as she wiped away the tears; “where is there a poorer family than we are, sure enough? but, father, dear; we can assist them—relieve them; ay, maybe save them—for all that.”