There is something exceedingly alarming in a swoon to a person who
witnesses it for the first time; which was the case with James Cavanagh.
Having placed her on the chair, he looked wildly upon her; then as
wildly upon those who were crowding round him. "What ails her?" he
exclaimed--"what ails her?--she is dead!--she is dead! Dora--Dora
dear--Dora dear, can't you spake or hear me?"
Whilst he pronounced the words, a shower of tears gushed rapidly from
his eyes and fell upon her beautiful features, and in the impressive
tenderness of the moment, he caught her to his heart, and with
rapturous distraction and despair kissed her lips and exclaimed, "She is
dead!--she is dead!--an' all that's in the world is nothing to the love
I had for her!"
"Stand aside, James," said his sister Kathleen; "leave this instantly.
Forgive him, Bryan," she said, looking at her lover with a burning brow,
"he doesn't know what he is doing."
"No, Kathleen," replied, her brother, with a choking voice, "neither for
you nor for him, nor for a human crature, will I leave her."
"James, I'm ashamed of you," said Hanna, rapidly and energetically
disengaging his arms from about the insensible girl; "have! you no
respect for Dora? If you love her as you say, you could hardly act as
you did."
"Why," said he, staring at her, "what did I do?"
Bryan took him firmly by the arm, and said, "Come away, you foolish boy;
I don't think you know what you did.
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