On the day of the dinner I got this note:--
MY DEAR MRS. O'SHEA,--I dined with the Blakes on Wednesday, and by the time dinner was over it was too late to go to the meeting--the Post Office is all right here.
I cannot imagine who originated the paragraph. I have certainly made no arrangements up to the present to go either to Ireland or America or announced any intention to anybody.--Yours, CHAS. S. PARNELL.
He arrived late, but apologetic, and was looking painfully ill and white, the only life-light in his face being given by the fathomless eyes of rich brown, varying to the brilliance of flame. The depth of expression and sudden fire of his eyes held me to the day of his death.
We had a pleasant dinner, talking of small nothings, and, avoiding the controversial subject of politics, Mr. Parnell directed most of his conversation to my sister during dinner. She could talk brilliantly, and her quick, light handling of each subject as it came up kept him interested and amused. I was really anxious that he should have an agreeable evening, and my relief was great when he said that he was glad to go to the theatre with us, as the change of thought it gave was a good rest for him.
On arrival at the theatre he and I seemed to fall naturally into our places in the dark corner of the box facing the stage and screened from the sight of the audience, while my sister and the others sat in front.
After we had settled in our seats Mr. Parnell began to talk to me. I had a feeling of complete sympathy and companionship with him, as though I had always known this strange, unusual man with the thin face and pinched nostrils, who sat by my side staring with that curious { 61} intent gaze at the stage, and telling me in a low monotone of his American tour and of his broken health.
Then, turning more to me, he paused; and, as the light from the stage caught his eyes, they seemed like sudden flames. I leaned a little towards him, still with that odd feeling of his having always been there by my side; and his eyes smiled into mine as he broke off his theme and began to tell me of how he had met once more in America a lady to whom he had been practically engaged some few years before.
Her father would not dower her to go to Ireland, and Parnell would not think of giving up the Irish cause and settling in America. The engagement therefore hung fire; but on this last visit to America he had sought her out and found himself cold and disillusioned.