On the evening of the next day, or rather late at night, her father returned from the scene of contest, but very fortunately for Kathleen's peace of mind during that night, he found on inquiry that she and Hanna had been for a considerable time in bed. The following morning Hanna, who always took an active share in the duties of the family, and who would scarcely permit her sister to do anything, had been up a short time before her, and heard from her mother's lips the history of Bryan's treachery, as it was now termed by all. We need scarcely say that she was deeply affected, and wept bitterly. Kathleen, who rose a few minutes afterwards, thought she saw her sister endeavoring to conceal her face, but the idea passed away without leaving anything like a fixed impression upon it. Hanna, who was engaged in various parts of the house, contrived still to keep her face from the observation of her sister, until at length the latter was ultimately struck by the circumstance as well as by Hanna's unusual silence. Just as her father had entered to breakfast, a sob reached her ears, and on going over to inquire if anything were wrong, Hanna, who was now fairly overcome, and could conceal her distress no longer, ran over, and throwing herself on Kathleen's neck, she exclaimed in a violent burst of grief, “Kathleen, my darling sister, what will become of you! It's all true. Bryan has proved false and a traitor; he voted for Vanston yesterday, and that vote has put the bitter enemy of our faith into Parliament.” “Bryan M'Mahon a traitor!” exclaimed Kathleen; “no, Hanna--no, I say--a thousand times no. It could not be--the thing is impossible--impossible!” “It is as true as God's in heaven, that he voted yesterday for Vanston,” said her father; “I both seen him and heard him, an' that vote it was that gained Vanston the election.” Hanna, whose arms were still around her sister's neck, felt her stagger beneath her on hearing those words from her father. “You say you saw him, father, and h'ard him vote for Vanston. You say you did?” “I both seen the traitor an' h'ard him,” replied the old man. “Hanna, dear, let me sit down,” said Kathleen, and Hanna, encircling her with one hand, drew a chair over with the other, on which, with a cheek pale as death, her sister sat, whilst Hanna still wept with her arms about her. After a long silence, she at last simply said:-- “I must bear it; but in this world my happiness is gone.” “Don't take it so much to heart avourneen,” said her mother; “but, any way, hadn't you betther see himself, an' hear what he has to say for himself. Maybe, afther all, it's not so bad as it looks. See him, Kathleen; maybe there's not so much harm in it yet.”