"I shall never see the bright sun more in this world,—I shall never see it more. But I like to know that it is shining." Here, then, was the solution of one mystery; and as I looked at that fine and placid countenance I wondered at my own stupidity; for though the eyes were wide open, their expression told the tale very plainly. "I am so sorry," I said; "I did not know. Can you ever forgive me?" "There's nothing to forgive nor to be sorry for," she replied, with a smile breaking over her face like sunshine. "Glory be to God for all His mercies! I've been sittin' here in the dark for ten years; but all the time, thanks be to His holy name, as happy as a lark." I turned away, with admiration mingled with compassion. "And," added the old woman, "I know the purty sight you're spakin' of, ma'am dear. I seem to see, as often I saw it, the sun playin' about the hills in little streams of gold, and the tree-tops brightenin' in its glow. Oh, I know the hills of Wicklow since I was a wee dawshy! And there isn't a tree nor a blade of grass nor a mountain flower that Granny Meehan doesn't remember from old days that are far off now." I saw that Winifred's sensitive face was working with emotion, while her eyes filled with tears. I also saw that[Pg 22] she had hardly forgiven me yet for my blunder. I suggested gently that we had better go, and the girl made no objection. So we pursued our homeward way, silently for the most part. Suddenly, I exclaimed: [Pg 22] "Oh, what a beautiful nature has that old woman!" "Do you mean granny?" Winifred asked quickly. "Oh, she's as beautiful as—the Dargle!" And even while we talked burst upon us that view, which, once seen, can never be forgotten. Those hills arising on either side, clothed in a superb, living green; and the loveliest of glens below, with the rippling beauty of its stream fair as the poet's river of the earthly paradise; and Powerscourt's splendid demesne to the eastward, and all the mountains about, arising grandly, enlivened with that unsurpassed sunshine. "Ye hills, give praise to God!" I murmured involuntarily; and paused, feeling Winifred's dark eyes upon me, with inquiry in their glance. "It is a verse from the hymn of thanksgiving sung often in church," I said. "Did
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