“Not without his consent, no nor with it,—as the families stand this moment; for I tell you again that the sorra ring ever I'll put on you till your sister sends for my brother, axes his pardon, and makes up with him, as she ought to do. Oh why, James dear, should she be so harsh upon him,” she said, softening at once; “she that is so good an' so faultless afther all? but I suppose that's the raison of it—she doesn't know what it is to do anything that's not right.”
“Dora,” said her lover, “don't be harsh on Kathleen; you don't know what she's sufferin'. Dora, her heart's broke—broke.”
The tears were already upon Dora's cheeks, and her lover, too, was silent for a moment.
“She has,” resumed the warm-hearted girl, “neither brother nor sister that loves her, or can love her, better than I do, afther all.”
“But in our case, darling, what's to be done?” he asked, drawing her gently towards him.
“I'll tell you then what I'd recommend you to do,” she replied; “spake to my brother Bryan, and be guided by him. I must go now, it's quite dusk.”
There was a moment's pause, then a gentle remonstrance on the part of Dora, followed, however, by that soft sound which proceeds from the pressure of youthful lips—after which she bade her lover a hasty good-night and hurried home.
