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." As he spoke, and paused from time to time, the tumult of the storm without, and the fury with which it swept against the roof, door, and windows of the house, made a terrible diapason to the sweet and affecting tone of feeling which pervaded the remarks of the dying boy.

His father, however, who felt an irrepressible dread of what was expected to take place, started at the close of the last words, and with a heart divided between the two terrors, stood in that stupefaction which is only the resting-place of misery, where it takes breath and strengthens itself for its greatest trials.