woman. "What do you know about it?
Throth ye take yer answer kindly. It's always
the likes o' a soft fool like you that gets
tumbled in the mud while the world's goin'
roun'. Oh, wirra, wirra, that iver I should rear
sich a daughther!"

Maureen stepped up to Con and put out her
hand. "I thank ye," she said, eagerly, "for
puttin' in that kind word for me. I have thried
to do her biddin', an' God sees it's her own
fault that it's come to this so soon. I'm rale
grateful to ye, Con, an' if I could make two
women o' rnysel', wan o' me should be yer
wife. Bein' only wan, I must go afther my
heart."

Big tears swelled up in Con's eyes as he shook
her hand and let it drop. " It's thrue for you,
Maureen," was all he said.

"Oh!" cried the stepmother, fiercely— " oh!
if I could just get my tongue about that limb o'
the divil Mike Tiernay—"

"God save all here!" said a hearty voice, as
the latch was lifted, and Mike himself stood
amongst them. Maureen, blushing, fell back
into the shadows and left the battle to him.

"Lend us yer arm, Con," cried the stepmother,
trying to stand. "Begone!" she
shrieked, shaking her puny fist at Mike,"
begone from my house, you thief, you beggar!"

"Throth, yer not well, Mrs. Lacey dear,"
said Mike, "yer not well at all. An' it's
Con's fault here for givin' you too sthrong a
taste o' this fine whisky o' his, an' you so wake
about the head. Sit down now, Mrs. Lacey,
asthore, an' rest yersel' a bit," he went on
coaxingly, slipping her hand from Con's arm, settling
her in her chair, and drawing a seat confidentially
beside her. " An' feth ye may make
yer mind aisy about thieves an' beggars, for
there isn't a sowl of sich a crew in the house at
all: sorra wan; nor out bye neither, for the
moon's as bright as daylight, an' I couldn't
miss but see them if they were there."

All this was poured forth in Mike's own
rolling, coaxing, devil-may-care tone, completely
drowning any attempt of the widow's to finish
her interrupted volley of abuse. She sat
grasping the sides of her chair in silence, and mentally
scratching his face.

"Oh, the imperence of ye!" she hissed
between her teeth, at last, "to think to come
round me with yer blarney. I know yer
errand—"

"You do, Mrs. Lacey?" said Mike, "you
know that Maureen— " here his eyes deepened
and flashed, and a ruddy smile overspread his
brave face as he glanced at a shadowy corner
opposite, " that Maureen has promised me her
own sel' for a wife gin this day year when I
come home from my voyage? Ye've hard of
the sthrange vessel that's been lyin' below all
week. Well, the captain is a dacent man, an'
lie's offered to take me with him in his ship,
an' promised to put me in a way of arnin' in a year
as much money as '11 do all I'll want it to do.
On this day twel'month I'll come back a
well-to-do man, plase God, an' I'll buy the best
holdin' in Bofin, save an' exceptin' Con Lavelle's
here. Maureen has give me her word to wait
for me. An' that's my errand, to tell ye all this
that's arranged betune us."

This information of Mike's threw a light on
the widow's perplexity, and the storminess of
her wrath became somewhat calmed.

"Ye'll niver come back," she said, with a
sneer, "wanst yer off out o' Bofin with yer
blarneyin' tongue an' yer rovin' ways, sorra fut
will ye iver set in it again."

"Don't say that, Mrs. Lacey," said Mike,
gravely. " You mustn't say that, an' me ready
to swear the conthrairy."

"Ay," she sneered again; " the likes o'
ye'll swear to anything; but who'll heed ye? I
say it would be betther for Maureen to take up
at wanst with a dacent man like Con Lavelle
there, sitting peaceable at home on his farm,
than to be waitin' for years till a rover like you
takes the notion to turn up again from the other
ind o' the world. Which ye niver will."

"Well, Mrs. Lacey," said Mike, drawing
himself up, and speaking solemnly, "I'll give
Maureen her lave, full and free, to marry Con
Lavelle come this day year, if I be not here to
claim her first mysel'."

"Ay," said Maureen, looking suddenly out
from the shadows; " an' I'll give my word full
an' free to marry Con Lavelle come this day
year, if Mike be not here to claim me first."

"Ye'll swear that?" said the stepmother.

"Ay, we'll swear it both if you like," said
Mike, smiling proudly down on Maureen.

"He's ready enough to han' you over,
Maureen," said the widow, with another of her
sneers. "Ye'll be 'feared to do the same by
him, I'm thinkin'."

Maureen made no reply, but, slipping her
hand out of Mike's, went over to the dresser
and reached up for something, to a little cracked
cup on the shelf.

"Here's two rings," she said, coming back
to the hearth, " wan I got on the last fair day,
an' the other I got last night in Biddy Prendegast's
cake. There's for you, Con, an' there's for
you, Mike. Wan o' you men 'll put wan o' them
rings on my finger come this day year; Con, if
I'm left for him, Mike, if he's home in time.
This I swear, mother, in spite o' yer tants, an'
by the Blessed Vargin I'll keep my oath!"

A silence fell on the group. The blaze of the
fire dropped down, and a shadow covered the
hearth. A momentary cloud passed over Mike's
proud face in the flush of its rash happy
confidence. Was it a whispered reminder of the
perils that beset the sailor abroad on the seas
of storms, of great calms, of ships drifted out
of their tracks? But Mike was not one to fret
his mind about shadows.

"Ye'll dhrink to that, all round?" said Con
Lavelle, presently.

"Ay, we'll dhrink to 't," said Mike, gaily;
and Maureen mending the fire, a jovial glow
lit up the house once more.

Con Lavelle had become a different man
within the last few minutes. His dejected face