"You'll be surprised to see where I write from, but afther mee goin' hot foot to Killeesh, there was'nt the sign of wan belongin' to me in the place, an' nothing but the hoigth of misery and starvation. The Priest's housekeeper, a dacent woman, took me in the chapel-house; an' the next day, I walked the whole eight miles over to Dungar. Oh, Miss Kate, agra! It was the sore sight to me! Like the corpse of wan ye loved, it was--there was the dear ould place, and the house that was iver open, an' the wood, an' the stones, an' the say--but the life an' the heart was gone out of it, an' glory be to God! the divils that tuck it never had luck nor grace, but has been tearin' each other, at law, iver since; an yez might have lived in pace for all they got out of it. I said mee prayers on the hall door steps, where the masther (the heaven's be his bed!) used to stan' an' hear all the poor people had to say. I thought the life would lave me when I rus meesilf to go back--I had no strength; but be the hoight of luck, who come upon a low back car, but ould Paddy Byrne--'twas he was glad to see me, an' quite moidhered to find me there without yerself--so he give me a cast to Killeesh; but I was so sick of the sorra, I could do nothin' for--that I come away afther mee sisther's daughther here--they'e doing very well, an' have a nice little shop, with soap an' candles; an' tay an' kid gloves; an' all to that in it. An' I'm tired of bein' idle, so take in a thrifle iv work, an' clear-starchin'--I get plinty from the officers' ladies, an' it amuses me till ye send for me, ah! whin 'ill that be, avourneen? Mee lady and me parted great frinds, an' she put five goulden guineas in mee hand, an' tauld me to come back whin iver I like, so I've not touched yer money agra! but I must stop, for I'm tired intirely with the writin'." This long letter was written from Fermoy, and passionately did Kate weep over the picture it drew of her deserted home. * * * * *