floor, when he entered the room. He came in so softly that she did
not hear him. He lifted her head and looked into her eyes. He
noticed with certainty what had been so far only a vague, ill-
defined dread. Her face was very, very pale and transparent. Her
eyes were sunken and had a strange brilliancy. She was much slighter
end far more ethereal than on that day when they stood the deck of
the ship and turned their faces so hopefully to the New World.

He felt a knife-like stab startle through his blood to his heart.
His breath caught.

Angela looked up at him, radiantly.

He kissed her and with mock cheerfulness he said, laughingly:

"Such news, me darlin'! Such wondherful news!"

"Good news, dear?"

"The best in the wurrld," and he choked a sob.

"I knew it would come! I knew it would. Tell me, dear."

"We're to go back--back to--back to Ireland. See--here are the
orders," and he showed her the official letter.

She took it wonderingly and read it. Her hand dropped to her side.
Her head drooped into the same position he had found her in. In a
moment he was kneeling at her side: