the middle of the day. And now, to crown all my misfortunes, I understand from you, Father, that Short Mary herself is suffering in health on account of it. It is a miserable business! It is a miserable and a disastrous business!"
The priest looked at him.
"Shiana," said he, "you are the most extra-ordinary man I have ever met in any place I have ever been in. When you came in I understood from you that there was just one thing breaking your heart, and that was that you were not able to marry Short Mary. Now, there is her father, with her own full consent, actually bestowing her upon you, and you have nothing to say but that it is a miserable and a disastrous business! What sort of man are you? Or what is it you want?"
"It is no wonder you should ask that question, Father," said Shiana. "It is hard to say what sort of man I am, or what it is that I want. Whatever sort of man I am, I have this to say about this match: it would be better for Short Mary to die the worst death that ever a human being died, than that I should marry her. That is the sort of man I am. If I could come across somebody who would speak to her and make that fact clear to her, and would give her the advice that would be best for her, that is, to put me out of her mind and out of her heart, and to give herself up to God as she has always done—that is what I want. I thought the widow would do it. If she did, she did not succeed in it. I asked John Kittach himself to do it, a while ago. I am afraid the man doesn't know what it would be best for him to do. I came te you, Father, expecting that out of the greatness of your experi-
