There she remained for what seemed to her a cruelly long time; she became so cold that she could hardly feel the ground beneath her feet; and her teeth shook in her head as she sat there alone in the cold night air of an October night, with no warmer wrapping than a slight shawl thrown over her shoulders. There she sat, listening for every sound--longing to catch the rattle of the wheels that were to carry her away--fancying every moment that she heard footsteps approaching, and dreading lest the awful creak of the house-door opening should reach her ears. She could not conceive why Ussher did not come--she had absolutely been there half an hour, and she thought it must be past ten--she had long been crying, and was now really suffering with bodily pain from cold and fright; and then the whole of Ussher's conduct to her since that horrid morning passed through her mind--she saw things now in their true light, which had never struck her so before. What would she not have given to have been safe again at Mrs. McKeon's; to have been in her own room, of which she could still see the light through the window; in fact, to be anywhere but where she was? She did not dare, however, to return to the house, or even again to walk down the road. Poor, unhappy Feemy! she already felt the wretched fruits of her obstinacy and her pride. At last she absolutely heard the front-door pushed open, and could plainly see a man's figure standing on the threshold. It must be Thady! They had discovered her departure, and he was already coming to drag her back! She heard his feet descending the hall steps; but they were as slow and as deliberate as usual; and she could perceive that, instead of coming down the avenue, he turned towards the stables. This was a slight relief to her--it was evident she was not yet missed; but she was dreadfully cold, and what was she to do if Thady heard the noise of the gig, and perceived that it had stopped at their gate? Ussher had driven over to Mohill early in the morning, and had gotten everything ready for his departure in the manner he had proposed; but when the time for starting came, he had been detained by business connected with his official duties, and it was eight o'clock before he was able to bid adieu to the interesting town of Mohill. He had then, at the risk of his own neck, driven off as fast as Fred Brown's broken-knee'd horse could take him, and was proceeding at a gallop towards Ballycloran, when he was stopped near Mrs. Mehan's well-known shop by Biddy, who was standing by the road-side opposite. He stopped the horse as quick as he could, and Biddy came running to him with Feemy's bundle. "Is that yer honer, at last? Glory be to God! but I thought you wor niver coming. The misthress 'll be perished with the could." "Never mind--hurry--give me what you've got!" And Biddy handed in the bundle and cloak, and Ussher again drove on.