her down.

At length the woman began to recover.

She sobbed aloud, and a copious flow of tears drenched her cheeks. Nell
ordered her to tear herself from O'Rorke and his wife:-- "Their hands
are bad about you," she exclaimed, "and their son has robbed you, Mary.
Lave them, I say, or it will be worse for you."

The woman paid her no attention; on the contrary, she laid her head on
the bosom of O'Rorke's wife, and wept as if her heart would break.

"God help me!" she exclaimed with a bitter sense of her situation, "I am
an unhappy, an' a heart-broken woman! For many a year I have not known
what it is to have a friendly breast to weep on."

She then caught O'Rorke's hand and kissed it affectionately, after which
she wept afresh;

"Merciful heaven!" said she'--"oh, how will I ever be able to meet my
husband! and such a husband! oh, heavens pity me!"

Both O'Rorke and his wife stood over her in tears. The latter bent her
head, kissed the stranger, and pressed her to her bosom. "May God bless
you!" said O'Rorke himself solemnly; "trust in Him, for he can see
justice done to you when man fails."

The eyes of Nell glared at the group like those of an enraged tigress:
she stamped her feet upon the floor, and struck it repeatedly with her
stick, as she was in the habit of doing, when moved by strong and deadly