or rather are you capable of being as generous as she is?—­and can you show her that you are as much above the absurd prejudice of the world, and its cold forms, as he ought to be who is loved by a creature so truly generous and delicate as Una?  You know how very poorly she is at present in health; and I tell you candidly, that your declining to accept this as a gift and memorial by which to remember her, may be attended with very serious consequences to her health.”

Connor kept his eyes fixed upon the speaker, with a look of deep and earnest attention; and as O’Brien detailed with singular address and delicacy these striking proofs of Una’s affection, her lover’s countenance became an index of the truth with which his heart corresponded to the noble girl’s tenderness and generosity.  He seized O’Brien’s hand.

“John,” said he, “you are worthy of bein’ Una’s brother, and I could say nothing higher in your favor; but, in the mane time, you and she both know that I want nothing to enable me to remember her by.  This is a proof, I grant you, that she loves me truly; but I knew that as well before, as I do now.  In this business I cannot comply with her wish an’ yours, an’ you musn’t press me.  You, I say, musn’t press me.  Through my whole life I have never lost my own good opinion; but if I did what you want me now to do, I couldn’t respect myself—­I would feel lowered in my own mind.  In short, I’d feel unhappy, an’ that I was too mane to be worthy of your sister.  Once for all, then, I cannot comply in this business with your wish an’ hers.”

“But the anxiety produced by your refusal may have very dangerous effects on her health.”

“Then you must contrive somehow to consale my refusal from her till she gets recovered.  I couldn’t do what you want me; an’ if you press me further upon it, I’ll think you don’t respect me as much as I’d wish her brother to do.  Oh, God of Heaven!” he exclaimed, clasping his hands, “must I lave you, my darling Una, forever?  I must, I must! an’ the drame of all we hoped is past—­but never, never, will she lave my heart!  Her eye dim, an’ her cheek pale! an’ all forme—­for a man covered with shame and disgrace!  Oh, John, John, what a heart!—­to love me in spite of all this, an’ in spite of the world’s opinion along with it!”

At this moment one of the turnkeys entered, and told him that his mother and a young lady were coming up to see him.

“My mother!” he exclaimed, “I am glad she is come; but I didn’t expect her till the day after to—­morrow.  A young lady!  Heavens above, what young lady would come with my mother?”

He involuntarily exchanged looks with O’Brien, and a thought flashed on the instant across the minds of both.  They immediately understood each other.

“Undoubtedly,” said John, “it can be no other—­it is she—­it is Una.  Good God, how is this?  The interview and separation will be more than she can bear—­she will sink under it.”