“Yes,” replied the father, “he is going to meet happy hearts, but he will leave none in this house behind him—­even little Brian that he loved so well—­but where was there a heart so loving as his?” This we need scarcely observe, was all said in whispers.

“Ah!” said the father, “you may well ask—­but don’t you remember this day week, when we were talking of M’Clutchy—­’I hope,’ says he, ’that if he should come, I’ll be where no agent can turn me out—­that is, in heaven—­for I wouldn’t wish to live to see you both and little Brian put from the place that we all loved so well—­and then he wiped away the tears from his pale cheeks.—­Oh!  Torley, my son—­my son—­are you laving us! laving us forever?”

The father sat down quietly on a chair, and put his hand upon his forehead, as if to keep the upper part of his head from flying off—­for such, he said, were the sensations he felt.  He then wrung his hands until the joints cracked, and gave one short convulsive sob, which no effort of his could repress.  The boy soon afterwards opened his eyes, and fixed them with the same peaceful and affectionate smile upon his parents.

“Torley,” said the mother, kissing him, “how do you feel, our flower?”

“Aisier,” said he, “but I think weaker—­I had a dream,” he continued; “I thought I was looking in through a great gate at the most beautiful place that ever was—­and I said to myself, what country can that be, that’s so full of light, and music, and green trees, and beautiful rivers?  ‘That is heaven,’ said a sweet voice beside me, but I could see no one.  I looked again, and then I thought I saw my three little brothers standin’ inside the gate smilin’—­and I said, ’ar’n’t you my brothers that died when you were young?’ ‘Yes,’ said they,’and we are come to welcome you here.’  I was then goin’ to go in, when I thought I saw my father and Brian runnun’ hand in hand towards the gate, and as’ I was goin’ in I thought they called after me—­’wait, Torley, dear, for we will follow you soon.’”

“And I hope we all will, our blessed treasure; for when you leave us, son of our hearts, what temptation will we have to stay afther you?  Your voice, achora, will be in our ears, and your sweet looks in our eyes—­ but that is all that will be left of you—­and your father and I will never have a day’s happiness more.  Oh, never—­never!”

“You both know I wouldn’t lave you if I could help it, but it’s the will of God that I should go; then when I’ll be so happy, won’t it take the edge off your grief.  Bring Brian here.  He and I were all that was left you, since Ned went to England—­and now you will have only him.  I needn’t bid you to love him, for I know that you loved both of us, may be more than you ought, or more than I desarved; but not surely more than Brian does.  Brian, my darling, come and kiss your own Torley that keept you sleeping every night in his bosom, and never was properly happy without you—­kiss me when I can feel you, for I know that before long, you will kiss me when I can’t kiss you—­Brian, my darling life, how loth I am to lave you, and to lave you all, father—­to lave you all, mother.”