Patrick had much ado to stop his brother’s clamor, that he might surprise the others. And he was astonished moreover to find little Phelim, for he it was, with a Sunday face on in the middle of the week. This mystery was solved when they reached the cabin; for there was a gathering in honor of the first Patrick of the new generation, who had that day, during the priest’s visit in his round on the works, been first empowered to answer to his name like a Christian. “It’s this _you_ were up to, is it?” shouted Patrick, bursting upon them. “I thought it wasn’t entirely to make Phelim a president, and Michael a djuke, that you come over!” Tears, shouts of laughter, frolic, pathos, poetry, and prose most unadorned, made up the delightful melange at that unexpected meeting. CHAPTER V. Patrick found that his family had indeed made a happy change. There was no gainsaying that. And he himself experienced no difficulty in procuring employment; but he was far from being so well content as the others. He wrote to Norah upon his arrival at New York, and again when he had found his father and mother; and he wanted sadly to invite her to join him in America. But for the same reason that he did not return to Ireland, he dared not ask her to come over; for if he could not leave his friends how could she hers? He would have gone “home,” as he persisted in calling it, but, strange to say, Ellen was not in the least humbled in her exactions by the fact of her own marriage. She loved Pat better than any body in this world, her own husband and her own child not excepted, and it was with a feeling of wrong that she heard or thought of his loving any one else, or being beloved by any. Sad news began now to come from the old country. The O’Brien’s had no letters; but others had, and the newspapers were full of the dreadful destitution and the deaths from starvation in Ireland. Now poor Patrick was worse afflicted than he had been by separation from his parents. Tidings came of starvation and death in houses the inhabitants of which he knew were wealthier far than Norah’s father; and he feared and dreaded that _she_ might even want for a bit of bread, while he rolled in plenty. Had he pursued his own inclination he would have posted back—but Ellen said—“Don’t think of such a thing! Is it mad you are? When there’s people dying there of the hunger will you go snatch the bread from their mouths? Or will you go ‘home,’ as you call it, and feed the three kingdoms from your own pocket?” Patrick was hurt—and he thought of the two Norah was far the better comforter. * * * * *