“You’re making an awful poor mouth about yourself, Mary asthore,” put in the high, complaining treble of Mrs. Grogan. “Why don’t ye up and tell his lordship how good ye are at learning--how ye were in the sixth book, and if there’d have been a seventh, you’d be in _that_ too?--and that learning and reading and singing and dancing comes as easy to you as kiss me hand?” “Sir,” said Mary, suddenly drawing herself up and confronting him--did she but know it, with the very face and form of her mother--“I’m no credit to ye. For God’s sake leave me here, where you found me. It will be better for both you and me. Think of the awful scandal and talk it will raise in this parish” (and what of the great Mulgrave connection?), “and my mother always so respected--when people thought it was only raving and wake in the head she was. Now, if it is _true_ what she’s after telling us, they will be saying she’d a right to be jailed up in Tralee!” “My dear girl,” he said, “since Mrs. Foley has declared before witnesses and a lawyer, that you are no relation to her, but a very near relation to _me_, do you suppose I will leave you among people to whom you have no ties whatever? No; I am much too thankful to have found a daughter.” “O God! What ails Katty?” screamed Mrs. Grogan. “Glory! she’s come over, and she’s going off in a faint and a wakeness!” This was true. The recent scene and excitement had been too much for the poor frail woman, and after a few weak gasps she fell back in her chair insensible. Cold water was procured immediately, also whisky (Mr. Usher, who looked the last man in the world to carry a flask, produced one), and then he and his employer went out of the cottage, leaving the women to attend on the invalid. As Lord Mulgrave’s eyes met those of his companion, he said-- “Yes, Usher, she is my child, and her mother’s daughter. Oh, what a blessing and happiness to come so suddenly, when I thought that life held no more--that nothing lay before me but the long, monotonous road that leads to the gate of death. Now I have something to----” He paused abruptly, and remembered himself. “You see how it is. The discovery of an unexpected treasure has been a shock, and I’m rambling, from sheer happiness. I will never forget, Usher, that I owe it chiefly to _you_.” A frightened face now appeared at the half-door, and Mary said-- “Oh, sir, me mother is took awful bad in her breathing. Will ye go and send some one for Doctor Manns? I’ve no red ticket,--but we can pay him.” The two visitors set off at once, and despatched a doctor post-haste from Glenveigh, with instructions that no exertions or expense were to be spared on behalf of Mrs. Foley. The sick woman remained unconscious for twenty-four hours, and then rallied; but on the morning of the third day, when Lord Mulgrave walked over early in order to make his usual inquiries, he was met by Mary at the gate. Her eyes were red, and her face was sodden with crying.