Never had she so hungered for her own country and the companionship of its brown hills and streams.

No, not even this afternoon, when she had sat at her window and watched the lights change upon the creek.

Donegal had a sanctity for her, it seemed when she dwelled in it to set her in a way apart from and above earthly taints; and as her heart went out in a great longing towards it now, a sudden fierce loathing for the concealments, the shifts and maneuvers which she had practised, and still must practise, sprang up within her.

A great weariness came upon her, too.

But she did not change from her fixed resolve.