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Caine, Hall, Sir, 1853-1931

"The Woman Thou Gavest Me Being the Story of Mary O'Neill"

I could see that he was
greatly moved at the sight of me, but was trying hard to maintain his
composure.
"Now don't worry, my child, don't worry," he said. "It will be all
ri. . . . But how well you are looking! And how you have grown! And
how glad your poor mother will be to see you!"
I tried to ask how she was. "Is she . . ."
"Yes, thank God, she's alive, and while there's life there's hope."
We travelled straight through without stopping and arrived at Blackwater
at seven the same evening. There we took train, for railways were
running in Ellan now, and down the sweet valleys that used to be green
with grass, and through the little crofts that used to be red with
fuchsia, there was a long raw welt of upturned earth.
At the station of our village my father's carriage was waiting for us
and a strange footman shrugged his shoulders in answer to some whispered
question of Father Dan's, and from that I gathered that my mother's
condition was unchanged.
We reached home at dusk, just as somebody was lighting a line of new
electric lamps that had been set up in the drive to show the way for the
carriage under the chestnuts in which the rooks used to build and caw.


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