that is to say as soon as everything can be arranged-and-and-"

"Sure thin, and it's to owld Oirland ye'll go! Erin mavourneen! Oirland for iver. Oirland which ye've niver sane."

"No," said the young man, slowly, and with a composure that was alarming, as it was plainly to be seen that the words-the answers-were costing him many an effort. Only with great difficulty could he prevent himself giving way to a passionate flood of

tears.

Pat looked at him for several seconds earnestly and silently, and then said—

"Sure and your honour won't lave Ingland and not go to owld Oirland. If it's beauty ye want ye'll foind it there, raal thrue beauty; if it's sanery ye want, ye'll foind it there, better than in the whowl world; if it's kindness ye want, sure ye'll find it there too, plenty and to spare; if it's a pleasant life ye'd lade, go to me darlint Oirland; if ye wants anything go there, and it's meself as says ye'll niver ripint it.”

"Oh, Pat! I hardly know-know what you

-you will think when I tell you that-that -Africa is-where-I am going to."

If before the worthy man was surprised, he was now thunderstruck. Surely Misther Charles could not be in his sober senses.

"To Africa!" he repeated, "why that's at the other end of the world, where the niggers and the slaves is. Surely, Misther Charles, it's not slaves you're going afther.”

"No."

"Thin what may it be?"

"Oh, Pat, you will not understand. I feel so-dejected, and cast down and-and heartbroken. Life might have been so pleasantso pleasant, and now it is so miserable. Alas! alas! A life of toil, and hardship, and adventure, and danger, and excitement, and continual movement is the only one that would suit me now!"

"Och, no, Misther Charles, that womin will not, must not take all, and you'll stay on here."

"It is her son's. It is his justly. Yes, he must have it all. I will go-to-Africawhere it will-not be-wanted."

"Och, Misther Charles, Misther Charles; ye don't mane it. No, no!"

"I will go to Africa, to the unknown, unexplored, mysterious regions of the interior. I have resolved to go; nothing will now alter my purpose."

"Faix and if Mistress Foster was to say you might keep this place?"

"I would still go. Yes, yes, I must go. I am convinced nothing else will-will—cure the terrible despondency, the horrid sinking of the heart, the awful feelings of hopelessness which have taken possession of me."

"Och, Misther Charles, it's brake an owld man's heart, ye would."

"Forgive me!" cried the young man, with sudden warmth, as he seized his companion's hand. "I should not distress you with speaking of-of-my troubles."

After a long silence Pat spoke again, as follows:

"Sure, Misther Charles, it's meself has got a favor to axe, and ye be sure and grant it to me for the sake of the owld measther. Faix and I'd be up to accompanying ye to the

furrin counthry. Isn't it meself as would go with ye to the ind of the world?

"Thanks! thanks!" cried the young man, in a voice of deep emotion, " my best and dearest friend." And he burst into tears of

gratitude.

CHAPTER XV.

CHARLES ROSS TELLS MRS. FOSTER.

"This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given;

The smiles of joy, the tears of woe,
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow,

There's nothing true but Heaven!"

THOMAS MOORE.

THE next morning, about ten, the library bell was rung very violently.

A servant hurried into the room to see what was wanted.

Charles Ross was pacing the room in evident agitation. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not notice the entrance of the servant.

"Did you ring, sir ?" inquired the latter. "Yes. I want to see Mrs. Foster." "Very good, sir."

"Stay. Tell her that I wish to have a few minutes' private conversation with her in a quarter-of-an-hour, if she will, at the end of that time, come into the library. Do you understand?"