Her blood heated by her swift run grows cold again as this thought comes to her,—forced to the front by the fact that "all the air a solemn stillness holds," and that no sound makes itself heard save the faint sighing of the night-wind in the woods up yonder, and the "lone and melancholy voice" of the sea, a mile away, as it breaks upon the silent shore.,
"Well, I shall go and judge of Killarney myself some day," he says, idly.,
"No; only twelve months,"—hastily; "say no more now: my mind is quite made up.".
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