Not that this alone,
perhaps, would have prevented him from declaring his affection for her;
but, young as he was, he had not been left unimpressed by his father's
hereditary sense of the decent pride, strict honesty, and independent
spirit, which should always mark the conduct and feelings of any one
descended from the great Fermanagh Maguires. He might, therefore,
probably have spoken, but that his pride dreaded a repulse, and that he
could not bear to contemplate. This, joined to the natural diffidence of
youth, sufficiently accounts for his silence.
There lived, at the period of which we write, which is not a thousand
years ago, at a place called "the Corner House," a celebrated carpenter
named Jack M'Carroll. He was unquestionably a first-rate mechanic, kept
a large establishment, and had ample and extensive business. To him had
Art and Frank been apprenticed, and, indeed, a better selection could
not have been made, for Jack was not only a good workman himself, but an
excellent employer, and an honest man. An arrangement had been entered
into with a neighboring farmer regarding their board and lodging,
so that every thing was settled very much to the satisfaction of all
parties.
When the day of their departure had at length arrived, Art felt his
affections strongly divided, but without being diminished, between
Margaret Murray and his family; while Frank, who was calm and
thoughtful, addressed himself to the task of getting ready such luggage
as they had been provided with.
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