“Shall I help you to rise, Nanny?” asked she, her little heart dancing with pleasure at hearing the fervent wish: “iv you like to go home, an' you think me sthrong enough, I'll help you on!” “From my heart I thank you, my purty golden haired child,” said the old woman, as with her assistance she at length stood up; “bud you seem to know who I am, and I wondher yer not afeard ov me. Minny, I think they called you--who is the happy father ov my little darlin'?” “I'm Minny Whelan,” gently answered the little girl; upon which Nanny shrunk hastily back, and a fearful change overspread her features. “Minny Whelan!--you the proctor's daughter? Those smiling lips--those tinder, soft eyes--that rich yellow hair--an' that warm an' feelin' heart, Minny Whelan's. Oh, it can't, it mustn't be--I won't believe id!” The little girl laughed, although wonder lurked in her eye, and repeated innocently, “Sure enough, I am the procthor's daughter: bud you don't hate me for id--do you? “Come close to me, child, till I look upon you,” said Nanny, in a cold and altered tone of voice; and then, as Minny fearlessly advanced, she laid her aged hands on her head, and pushing back the profusion of her curling hair, looked long and anxiously on her. A hot tear fell upon the child's forehead as she withdrew her hand; and in a broken, voice the old woman exclaimed, “You are--you are indeed his child; bud have naither his black look, nor his hard an' baneful heart--so--so--I cannot hate you! For years I've never met with kindness, till you wor kind. Minny, heaven 'ill reward; you for id; an' may its blessin' be wid you, is the prayer ov your father's bittherest foe!” At this the child hesitated for an instant, as if she did not comprehend the latter part of Nanny's sentence; and then innocently taking her hand, she looked up to her face and said-- “Bud maybe yer too tired to go home now all the ways, Nanny, so iv you'll come home wid me, I'm sure my father won't be angry, an' will”-- “Go home wid you!” wildly reiterated the old woman, her eyes blazing so fearfully, that the child shrunk instinctively back--“crass your father's flure!--inther the man's house who sint my son--my only son!--my heart's blood!--from his native land, wid disgrace upon his name, and the heavy hand ov power crushin' him to the earth! Never!--these eyes, that once could laugh wid happiness, will burn in their sockets first, and this withered heart, once so warm and joyful, will burst afore I ever think ov id!” “Nanny,” tremblingly said Minny, “you spake so wild you make me afeard--I hope I haven't done anything to vex you!” “You! Oh! no, no--you force me to love you! I couldn't hate you, although yer father--bud no matther. Minny, good bye--may the Almighty guard you.”