Oh, think--only think if you tuck this faver, an' that anything happened you." "Come," said Sarah, "leave this dangerous place; I will see you part of the way home--you can do nothing here that I won't do, and everything that I can do will be done." Her lover's eyes had been fixed upon her, and with a feeble voice--for the agitation had exhausted him--he added his solicitations for her departure to theirs.
"I hope I will soon be better, dear Mave, and able to get up too--but may God bless you and take care of you till then!" Mave again went round and took his hand, on which he felt a few tears fall.
"I came here, dear Con," she said, "to take care of you all, and why need I be ashamed to say so--to do all I could for yourself.

Sarah here wishes me to spake the truth, an' why shouldn't I?
Think of my words then, Con, and don't let me or the thoughts of me occasion you one moment's unhappiness.

To see you happy is all the wish I have in this world." She then bade them an affectionate farewell, and was about to take her departure, when Sarah, who had been musing for a moment, went to Dalton, and having knelt on one knee, was about to speak, and to speak, as was evident from her manner, with great earnestness, when she suddenly restrained herself, clasped her hands with a vehement action, looked distractedly from him to Mave, and then suddenly rising, took Mave's hand, and said: "Come away--it's dangerous to stop where this fever is--you ought to be careful of yourself--you have friends that loves you, and that would feel for you if you were gone.

You have a kind good father,--a lovhin' mother--a lovin' mother, that you could turn to, an' may turn to, if ever you should have a sore heart--a mother--oh, that blessed word--what wouldn't I give to say that I have a mother! Many an' outrage--many a wild fit of passion--many a harsh word, too--oh, what mightn't I be now if I had a mother?
All the world thinks I have a bad heart--that I'm without feelin'; but, indeed, Mave Sullivan, I'm not without feelin', an' I don't think I have a bad heart." "You have not a bad heart," replied Mave, taking her hand; "no one, dear Sarah, could look into your face and say so; no, but I think so far from that, your heart is both kind and generous." "I hope so," she replied, "I hope I have--now come you and leave this dangerous house; besides I have something to say to you." Mave and she proceeded along the old causeway that led to the cabin, and having got out upon the open road, Sarah stood.
"Now, Mave Sullivan," said she, "listen--you do me only justice to say that I love truth, an' hate a lie, or consalement of any kind.

I ax you now this--you discovered awhile ago that I love Condy Dalton?
Isn't that thrue ?" "I wasn't altogether certain," replied Mave, "but I thought I did--an' now I think you do love him." "I do love him--oh, I do--an' why as you said, should I be ashamed of it ?--ay, an' it was my intention to tell you so the first time I'd see you, an' to give you fair notice that I did, an' that I'd lave nothing undone to win him from you." "Well," replied the other, "this is open and honest, at all events." "That was my intention," pursued Sarah, "an' I had, for a short time, other thoughts; ay, an' worse thoughts; my father was pursuadin' me--but I can't spake on that--for he has my promise not to do so.