"So they are now, Anty--so they are now, my own, own Anty--they love
you as much as though they were."

"God Almighty bless them for their goodness, and you too, Martin. I
cannot tell you, I niver could tell you, how I've valued your honest
thrue love, for I know you have loved me honestly and thruly; but I've
always been afraid to spake to you. I've sometimes thought you must
despise me, I've been so wake and cowardly."

"Despise you, Anty?--how could I despise you, when I've always loved
you?"

"But now, Martin, about poor Barry--for he is poor. I've sometimes
thought, as I've been lying here the long long hours awake, that,
feeling to you as I do, I ought to be laving you what the ould man left
to me."

"I'd be sorry you did, Anty. I'll not be saying but what I thought of
that when I first looked for you, but it was never to take it from you,
but to share it with you, and make you happy with it."

"I know it, Martin: I always knew it and felt it."

"And now, av it's God's will that you should go from us, I'd rather
Barry had the money than us. We've enough, the Lord be praised; and I
wouldn't for worlds it should be said that it war for that we brought
you among us; nor for all County Galway would I lave it to Barry to
say, that when you were here, sick, and wake, and dying, we put a pen
into your hand to make you sign a will to rob him of what should by