Mr. Price gave every one a parcel, containing a number of things necessary to the coming winter; such as blankets, coarse cloth for the children, stockings, and stuff for cloaks and coats—besides sewing cotton, pins, tape, needles, scissors; and for the boys plenty of paper, pencils, books and carpenter’s tools—the men could hardly stagger home under their pleasant loads; and the women went trotting along by their side, laughing and talking loud in the joy of their hearts. Mr. Price did not stay for their thanks, which, after the Irish fashion, they were pouring out feelingly and rapidly. All he heard, as he jumped in the dearborn, with the gentleman who owned the land, was the end of Jemmy Brady’s outpouring—“God bless him; if his son had lived, he’d, may be, in time have been as good a man as himself.” Mr. Price was very much affected; stopped with the intention of speaking to the man, but feeling unable, he rode away. “Norah, dear,” said he, in the evening of this busy day,—“Norah, you have done being afraid of me, have you not? You may remember how unwilling you were to come near me when I first saw you.” “Yes,” said the little girl, “I was afraid of you then, but it was not long. It was only something that Jemmy Brady said to me in the kitchen that made me not like you at first; but I love you dearly now,” said she, as she jumped on his lap and threw her arms around his neck. “I wanted you then to tell me what Jemmy said to make you fear me, but you would not. You will tell me now, will you not?” and he pressed the little creature fondly to his bosom. “Why, Jemmy said you were the image of my father; and that if he chose, he could make my dear grandmother very unhappy; but that he would not tell—he liked me too well to let any one separate me from him. So I was afraid, and yet I did not know why you would take me from my dear grandmother; for that was what I thought Jemmy meant.” Mr. Price sent her to call Jemmy. When questioned, he said he firmly believed that Mr. Price’s son was Norah’s father; that he lived in the neighbourhood, very near to Sally M’Curdy; that the young man, who called himself White, fell in love with Ellinora M’Curdy, who was a beautiful girl, but too virtuous to listen to any one excepting in the way of marriage—that he finally did marry her, but under the name of White. After a few months, he came to America, where he married again, and this was the last they ever heard of him. Jemmy Brady went on to observe that he came to this country about a year after Mrs. M’Curdy, and heard from them that Mr. White had married again, and that they had made up their minds never to molest him, fearing that the little girl would be taken from them. He had seen the likeness between Mr. Price and the young man who called himself White, and he said aloud—but not in the hearing of Mrs. M’Curdy—that the likeness was very strong; but he did not think, at the time, the little girl minded it.