“Fardorougha,” replied his—­wife, “it’s good, no doubt, to have a grateful heart to God; but I’m afeard there’s sin in what you’re sayin’, for you know, dear, that, whether it plased the Almighty to take yur boy, or not, what you’ve promised to do is your duty.  It’s like sayin’, ‘I’ll now turn my heart bekase God has deserved it at my hands.’  Still, dear, I’m not goin’ to condimn you, only I think it’s betther an’ safer to love an’ obey God for His own sake! blessed be His holy name!”

Young O’Brien was forcibly struck by the uncommon character of Honor O’Donovan.  Her patience, good sense, and sincere acquiescence in the will of God, under so severe a trial, were such as he had never seen:  equalled.  Nor could he help admitting to himself, while contemplating her conduct, that the example of such a woman was not only the most beautiful comment on religious truth, but the noblest testimony of its power.

“Yes, Honor,” said the husband, in reply, “you’re right, for I know that what you say is always thrue.  It is, indeed,” he added, addressing O’Brien, “she’s aquil to a prayer-book.”

“Yes, and far superior to any,” replied the latter; “for she not only gives you the advice, but sets you the example.”

“Ay, the sorra lie in it; an’, oh, Honor, he’s not to die—­he’s not to be h——­, not to suffer.  Our son’s to live!  Oh, Saver of earth, make me thankful this day!”

The tears ran fast from his eyes as he looked up to heaven, and uttered, the last; words.  Indeed, it was impossible not to feel deep compassion for this aged man, whose heart had been smitten so heavily, and on the only two points where it was capable of feeling the blow.

After having indulged his grief for some time, he became considerably more composed, if not cheerful.  Honor made many kind inquiries after Una’s health, to which her brother answered with strict candor, for he had heard from Una that she was acquainted with the whole history of their courtship.

“Who knows,” said she, speaking with reference to their melancholy fate, “but the God who has saved his life, an’ most likely hers, may yet do more for them both?  While there’s life there’s hope.”

“Young man,” said Fardorougha, “you carry a blessin’ wid you wherever you go, an’ may God bless you for the news you have brought to us this day!  I’ll go to see him tomorrow, an’ wid a light heart I’ll go too, for my son is not to die.”

O’Brien then took his leave and returned home, pondering, as he went, upon the singular contrast which existed between the character of the miser and that of his admirable wife.  He was no sooner gone than Honor addressed her husband as follows: 

“Fardorougha, what do you think we ought both to do now afther the happy news we’ve heard?”

“I’ll be guided by you, Honor; I’ll be guided by you.”