Shane recovered his self-possession. 'The poor thing's head's deranged,' he thought; and feeling that he had been wanting in respect just now, he stooped down and kissed her as she crouched like a bundle on the cushions. This unusual display of affection seemed to revive his mother. She twined her quivering arms about him, and, dragging him to her side, whispered: 'My darling--for my sake who have gone through sore travail on your account--oh! be kind to Terence--be very, very kind. If you knew all, you would be--but you shall never know. I will bear all myself. My hand shall never pour sorrow on your head!' The words of mystery perplexed my lord, who, never very bright, was still confused with drink. He was about to ask questions; perceiving which my lady spoke abruptly. 'Shane,' she whispered, stroking his hair with clinging affection, 'do you know what is the fondest wish of your old mother? If I saw you well married I could die content. When you were so infatuated with that horrid girl down yonder, you did not know what pain you gave me.' 'Why?' demanded Shane, the scar on his brow deepening in hue. 'She's a good girl, and I like her still. There's nothing against her that I'm aware of. I hate your bread-and-butter misses!' Had the young man been sober he would not have dared so to speak; but wine gave him courage to say that to which Norah urged him daily. 'I'll marry Norah if I like,' cried her stout champion. 'I know you've got some silly notion about Doreen. Why, I can't think. I don't want to marry her, and she doesn't want to marry me; and I won't do it--that's flat. Is it you or I who would marry her? I suppose I may follow my own wishes on the subject.' His mother crouched down on the cushions again and moaned, while her first-born stopped short in wonderment. What a pother, to be sure! Her nerves must be the centre of some disease, for he had said naught to warrant such an access of pain! He could not make it out. At length, by way of applying a soothing plaster, he said: 'There, there! don't fret so. Maybe I'll die a bachelor, and the Croppy'll inherit. Will that please you? Come, sit up and smile at me.' CHAPTER VII. SUSPENSE.