be so, and I don't fear to die. A few weeks back the thoughts of death,
when they came upon me, nearly killed me; but that feeling's all gone
now."

Martin did not know what answer to make; he again told her he hoped she
would soon get better. It is a difficult task to talk properly to a
dying person about death, and Martin felt that he was quite incompetent
to do so.

"But," she continued, after a little, "there's still much that I want
to do,--that I ought to do. In the first place, I must make my will."

Martin was again puzzled. This was another subject on which he felt
himself equally unwilling to speak; he could not advise her not to make
one; and he certainly would not advise her to do so.

"Your will, Anty?--there's time enough for that; you'll be sthronger
you know, in a day or two. Doctor Colligan says so--and then we'll talk
about it."

"I hope there is time enough, Martin; but there isn't more than enough;
it's not much that I'll have to say--"

"Were you spaking to Barry about it this morning?"

"Oh, I was. I told him what I'd do: he'll have the property now,
mostly all as one as av the ould man had left it to him. It would
have been betther so, eh Martin?" Anty never doubted her lover's
disinterestedness; at this moment she suspected him of no dirty longing
after her money, and she did him only justice. When he came into her