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Tynan, Katharine, 1861-1931

"The Story of Bawn"

Please God, we can lift up our hearts towards the New Year."
"And thank God for that," said my grandfather; and I felt that it was
not only for cessation of the sickness he gave thanks.
There were, indeed, many new graves, and many, too, whose living or
dying yet hung in the balance; and if I had been a happy woman I would
have felt it ominous to be married at such a time. But as it was,
nothing mattered.
"You are sure Nora Brady has not taken the sickness, Neil?" I asked.
"No, Miss Bawn; she's safe so far. To be sure, she might be inkybatin'
it"--Neil, like all our people, loves a long word--"and she'll have to
put up a month's quarentine when the last o' the sickness is over. I
hear she's been everywhere it was."
After breakfast I escaped to the summer-house in the shrubbery with my
letter. The first snow lay on the ground and was white on the dark,
shining leaves of the laurels and laurestinus, but my hands trembled and
burned as I opened the letter. Why did he write to me now when I had
become used to my misery? As the sheet rustled in my hands I felt such a
longing and a desire for him that if he called me across the world I
must go.


CHAPTER XXXI
THE WEDDING-DRESS

"My dear," the letter began, "I have your letter.


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