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"Well so you can," returns she, kindly. "Any night when there is a good moon come to me and I will go with you to Carrickdhuve—that is the name of the hill—and show you the bay.",It is the 20th of February; already winter is dying out of mind, and little flowers are springing everywhere.,There is no grate, and the fire, which has plainly made up its mind not to light, is composed of Yule-logs. The floor is shining with sand, rushes having palled on Lady Lilias.,"Indeed, I do not hate you," she says impulsively. "Believe me, I do not. But still I fear you.","Yes; but you have been crying, darling! What has happened?","How cold it is!" she says, rising, with a little shiver. "Let us go home.","Yes,—and miserable! you forget to add that. Now everything seems squared. In the grave neither grief nor revenge can find a place. And as for you, what have you to do with my fate?—nothing. What should you not return to me my own? and why should I not die by the weapon I had dared to level against yourself? There is a justice in it that smacks of Sadlers' Wells.","You are tired," says he, tenderly.,"Oh, if you will not," says Mr. Rodney, wrathfully.,"No," answered the man, "I am afraid. Who could look at such dreadful things and live?",But the deer began to grumble and said, "Well, it is true that out here on the prairie you have beaten me, but this is not where I live. I only come out here once in a while to feed or to cross the prairie when I am going somewhere. It would be fairer if we had a race in the timber. That is my home, and there I can run faster than you. I am sure of it.","He has lost his way. He is tired, and I have asked him to have some breakfast. He is the English gentleman who is living at Coolnagurtheen.".