"No harm to you, mum, beggin' your pardon. Oi says to a nagur in passing 'Whose iligant place is this?' 'The Kilpathrick place,' says he. 'Upon me sowl,' says Oi, ''t will be no harm for to call in an' see the b'y.' How is he, mum?"
"Do you know my son?" Her voice was so harsh and strained that she hardly recognized it. The big Irishman had no need to answer. The door through which the lady had entered the hall was thrown open, and a weak voice called out:—
"If that is O'Halloran, let him come in."
"'T is that same," replied the Federal soldier with a smile. But he waited for the lady to lead the way, and then followed her. On the bed lay Jack Kilpatrick, and near the fireplace stood his sister Flora, statuesque and scornful. O'Halloran bowed to her as politely as he knew how, but her lip curled disdainfully. An expression of perplexity crept into the honest, smiling face of the Irishman; but this quickly changed into one of genuine pleasure when he caught sight of young Kilpatrick's face.
"Why, ye 're as snug as a bug in a rug!" exclaimed O'Halloran cheerily. "Which paw
