She might forgive you an offence against herself; but she
won't forgive you one against Kathleen Cavanagh; and, Mister O'Finigan,
neither will I.'"
"Masther," said James Cavanagh, "you'll stop to-night with us?"
"No, James, I have an engagement of more importance than you could ever
dhrame of, and about--but I'm not free or at liberty to develop the
plot--for plot it is--at any greater length. Many thanks to you in the
mane time for your hospitable intentions; but before I go, I have a word
to say. Now, what do you think of that young man's ginerosity, who would
rather have himself thought guilty than have her thought wrong; for,
whisper,--I say he's not guilty, and maybe--but, no ruatther, time will
tell, and soon tell, too, plaise God."
So saying he took up his hat, and politely wished them a pleasant
evening, but firmly refused to taste another drop of liquor, "lest,"
he added, "it might denude him of the necessary qualifications for
accomplishing the enterprise on which he was bint."
When he was gone, Kathleen brought her sister to their own room, and
throwing herself on her bosom, she spoke not, but wept calmly and in
silence for about twenty minutes.
"Kathleen," said Hanna, "I am glad to see this, and I often wished for
it."
"Whisht, dear Hanna," she replied; "don't speak to me at present.
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