She looked into the eyes of those who were about her, but the looks they returned to her carried, no consolation to her spirit.
"My child," she exclaimed--"Oh, my child, what is this?
Bryan, my life--my light, what ails you ?" She stooped, and gently turning him about so as to see his face, she looked keenly into it for a few moments, and there certainly was the same seraphic expression which so lately lit it tip.

Still she felt dissatisfied, till putting her ear to his mouth and her hand to his heart, the woeful truth became known to her.

The guiltless spirit of her fair-haired son had followed, that of his father.
When the afflicted widow saw the full extent of her loss, she clasped her hands together, and rose up with something of a hasty movement.

She looked about the miserable cabin for a moment, and then peered into the face of every one in the room--all of whom, with the exception of Raymond, were in tears.

She then pressed her temples, as if striving to recollect what had happened--sat down again beside her husband and child, and to their astonishment began to sing an old and melancholy Irish air, in a voice whose wild sweetness was in singular keeping with its mournful spirit.
To the bystanders this was more affecting a thousand times than the most vehement and outrageous grief.