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"God love ye, byes," he cried, "it's a foine pair ye are, an' no mistake; so it's sick y've been, Maurice?" Was it possible that Lucy's situation had driven her out of her mind? Her behaviour throughout the day had been extraordinary. Features of character had appeared in her in the extravagance of her moods and humours which he never could have conceived would, though latent and demanding the summons of insanity to become visible, have formed a part of her nature. She, the gentle, the sweet, the refined, the tender, the sympathetic had exhibited even coarseness. Could she be mad, and yet slumber so soundly? How do the insane sleep? "But more than ever I want you now; more than ever I need you. Erie," he said earnestly, "are you willing to marry me right away—next week?" He patted the horse's thin neck. "Come, ol' feller, I'll stuff you with good oats fer once," he promised..