heat of the house, and the crowding of the neighbors to it, render it
necessary that it should be open; but independently of this, we believe
it a general custom, as it is also to keep it so during meals. This last
arises from the spirit of hospitality peculiar to the Irish people.

When his wife had uttered the words "you are no murderer," a young and
beautiful girl entered the house in sufficient time to have heard them
distinctly. She was tall, her shape was of the finest symmetry, her
features, in spite of the distraction which, at first glance, was
legible in them, were absolutely fascinating. They all knew her well;
but the moment she made her appearance, the conversation, and those
expressions of sympathy which were passing from one to another, were
instantly checked; and nothing now was felt but compassion for the
terrible ordeal that they knew was before her mother. She rushed up to
where her mother had sat down, her eyes flashing, and her long brown
hair floating about her white shoulders, which were but scantily
covered.

"You talk of a murderer, mother," she exclaimed. "You talk of a
murderer, do you? But if murder has been committed, as it has, I am the
murderer. Keep back now, let me look upon my innocent father--upon that
father that I have murdered."

She approached the bed on which he lay, her eyes still flashing, and her
bosom panting, and there she stood gazing upon his features for about
two minutes.

The silence of the corpse before them was not deeper than that which her
unexpected presence occasioned. There she stood gazing on the dead body
of her father, evidently torn by the pangs of agony and remorse, her