May my blessin' and God's blessin' rest upon you for ever more.

There now, be stout, acushla machree." Hanna kissed her again, but her grief was silent; and Dora, fearing she might not be able to restrain it, took her away.
"Now," proceeded the dying woman, "come to me, you Kathleen, my daughter--sure you're the daughter of my heart, as it is.

Kneel down and stay with me awhile.

Why does my heart warm to you as it never did to any one out o' my own family?
Why do I love you as if you were my own child?
Because I hope you will be so.

Kiss me, asthore machree." Kathleen kissed her, and for a few moments Mrs.M'Mahon felt a shower of warm tears upon her face, accompanied by a gentle and caressing pressure, that seemed to corroborate and return the hope she had just expressed.