For God's sake, and as you hope to escape this terrible sickness, lave the house at wanst.

We're sensible of your kindness--but lave us--lave us--for every minute you stop, may be death to you." Sarah, who had never yet spoken to Mave, turned her black mellow eyes from her to her lover, and from him to her alternately.

She then dropped them for a time on the ground, and again looked round her with something like melancholy impatience.

Her complexion was high and flushed, and her eyes sparkled with unaccustomed brilliancy.
"It's not right two people should run sich risk on our account," said Con, looking towards Sarah; "here's a young woman who has come to nurse, tend and take care of us, for which, may God bless her, and protect her!--it's Sarah M'Gowan, Donnel Dhu's daughter." "Think of Mave Sullivan," said Sarah--"think only' of Mave Sullivan--she's in danger--ha--but as for me--suppose I should take the faver and die ?" "May God forbid, poor girl," exclaimed Con; "it would lave us all a sad heart.

Dear Mave don't stop here--every minute is dangerous." Sarah went over to the bedside, and putting her hand gently upon his forehead, said-- "Don't spake to pity me--I can't bear pity; anything at all but pity from you.