--"Oh!" said he, enfolding her in his arms, and
pressing his lips to hers: "Ellish, ahagur machree! sure when I think of
all the goodness, an' kindness, an' tendherness that you showed me--whin
I think of your smiles upon me, whin you wanted me to do the right, an'
the innocent plans you made out, to benefit me an' mine!--Oh! where
was your harsh word, avillish?--where was your could brow, or your
bad tongue? Nothin' but goodness--nothin' but kindness, an' love, an'
wisdom, ever flowed from these lips! An' now, darlin', pulse o' my
broken heart! these same lips can't spake to me--these eyes don't know
me--these hands don't feel me--nor your ears doesn't hear me!"
"Is--is--it you?" replied his wife feebly--"is it--you?--come--come near
me--my heart--my heart says it misses you--come near me!"
Peter again pressed her in an embrace, and, in doing so, unconsciously
received the parting breath of a wife whose prudence and affection had
saved him from poverty, and, probably, from folly or crime.
The priest, on turning round to rebuke Peter for not proceeding with the
prayer, was the first who discovered that she had died; for the grief of
her husband was too violent to permit him to notice anything with much
accuracy.
"Peter," said he, "I beg your pardon; let me take the trouble of
supporting her for a few minutes, after which I must talk to you
seriously--very seriously.
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