Apparently, this consummation was not which held chief sway over her mind, for she was now busy making a wreath of flowers for her head. “Won’t the gardener be angry, darlin’, at your pluckin’ the roses and the big pinks?” “Let him, if he dare. Miss Ada told him a while ago that I was to go everywhere, and take anything just like herself; and I can eat the fruit, the apples, and the pears, and the grapes that you see there, but I wouldn’t because Ada didn’t,” said she, gravely. “You’ll do, Kitty--you’ll do,” said the old man; and his eyes swam with tears of affection and joy. “You begin to think so now, grandfather,” said she, archly. “And so I may go in now and tell them that you’ll stay.” “You may go in, Peter Malone, and tell them that I won’t go, and that’s better.” The old man stepped back, and, turning her round full in front of him, stood in wondering admiration of her for some seconds. “Well?” said she, pertly, as if interrogating his opinion of her--“well?” But his emotion was too strong for words, and the heavy tears coursed after each other down his wrinkled cheeks. “It’s harder for me to leave you, Kitty, darlin’, than I thought it would be, and I know, too, I’ll feel it worse when I go back.” “No you won’t, grandfather,” said she, caressingly. “You’ll be thinking of me and the fine life I’m leadin’ here, and the fine times that’s before me.” “Do you think so, honey?” asked he, in a half-sobbing tone--“do you think so?” “I know it, grandfather--I know it, so don’t cry any more; and, whenever your heart is low, just think of what’s coming. That’s what I do. I always begin to think of what’s coming!” “And when that time comes, Kitty ‘Alannah,’ will you ever renumber yer ould grandfather, who won’t be to ‘the fore’ to see it?” “And why won’t he be?” “Because, darlin’, I’m nigh eighty years of age, and I can’t expect to see above a year or two, at farthest. Come here, and give me a kiss, ma Cushleen! and cut off a bit of your hair for me to have as a keepsake, and put next my heart in my coffin.” “No, grandfather; take this, it will do as well”--and she handed him the little golden trinket--“for I can’t cut my hair, after hearin’ the gentlemen sayin’ how beautiful it is!” The old man, however, motioned away the gift with one hand, while he drew the other across his eyes. “Is there anything you think of now, Kitty,” said he, with an effort to appear calm, “for I must be goin’?” “Give my love to them all beyant,” said she, gravely, “and say if there’s a thing I could do for them, I’ll do it, but don’t let them be comin’ after me!” A sickly paleness spread over the old man’s face, and his lips trembled as he muttered, “No fear of that! They’ll not trouble you! Good-by!” And he stooped and kissed her. When he had walked a few paces away, he turned, and, with hands fervently clasped above his head, uttered a blessing in Irish.