He spoke much to her about her early life,--what she had read, and how she was led to reflect upon themes so unlikely to attract a young girl's thoughts. By degrees, as her reserve wore off, she ventured to confess what a charm the great men of former days possessed for her imagination,--how their devotion, their courage, their single-heartedness animated her with higher hopes for the time when Ireland should have the aid of those able to guide her destinies and make of her all that her great resources promised. “The world of contemporaries is seldom just to these,” said Dunn, gravely; “they excite envy rather than attract friendship, and then they have often few of the gifts which conciliate the prejudices around them.” “What matter if they can live down these prejudices?” cried she, warmly; then blushing at her own eagerness, she said, falteringly, “How have I dared to speak of these things, and to _you?_” Dunn arose and walked to the window, and now a long pause occurred in which neither uttered a word. “Is this cottage yours, Miss Kellett?” said he, at last. “No; we had rented it, and the time expires in a week or two.” “And the furniture?” “It was hired also, except a very few articles of little or no value.” Dunn again turned away, and seemed lost in deep thought; then, in a voice of some uncertainty and hesitation, said: “Your father's affairs were complicated and confused,--there were questions of law, too, to be determined about them,--so that, for the present, there is no saying exactly how they stand; still, there will be a sum,--a small one, unfortunately, but still a sum available to you, which, for present convenience, you must allow me to advance to you.” “You forget, sir, that I have a brother. To him, of right, belongs anything that remains to us.” “I had, indeed, forgotten that,” said Dunn, in some confusion, “and it was just of him I wanted now to speak. He is serving as a soldier with a Rifle regiment in the Crimea. Can nothing be done to bring him favorably before the notice of his superiors? His gallantry has already attracted notice; but as his real station is still unknown, his advancement has been merely that accorded to the humblest merits. I will attend to it. I 'll write about him this very day.” “How I thank you!” cried she, fervently; and she bent down and pressed her lips to his hand. A cold shivering passed over Dunn as he felt the hot tears that fell upon his hand, and a strange sense of weakness oppressed him. “It will make your task the lighter,” cried she, eagerly, “to know that Jack is a soldier in heart and soul,--brave, daring, and high-hearted, but with a nature gentle as a child's. There was a comrade of his here the other day, one whose life he saved--” “I have seen Conway,” said Dunn, dryly, while he scanned her features closely.