text:  No her father would once more receive her into his grace and affection; but Lysaght who had been reared with her who loved her so well so all the more deeply she knew that he had never told her so--what would _he_ feel? How would he look the first morning after her flight when he came in to breakfast and found the room solitary the urn cold her little spanniel Lapwing moaning about the hearth and Katey away over the mountains in the dead of night with a nameless and lawless man? Yes poor Lysaght she felt would _then_ be to be pitied: her father might once more be hers; but her cousin--even her little quarrels with him had something pleasant to her recollection and on this portion of the picture much as she desired to banish it from her mind she again and again returned to dwell; nor did she succeed in _overlaying_ it by painting her reconciliation with Lysaght on her return and her reparation in the shape of a large present of real and personal estate which her father should be induced to make to him and thereby enable Lysaght to settle in life