"Aye, Sisther," said Kate, a thin-faced sweet-looking woman of about forty, looking up brightly.
"Poor Kate!" said the Sister in a caressing tone. "You must get Kate to tell you her story some time, Mrs. Brady. She has seen better days like you."
"Oh, that indeed?" said Mrs. Brady, distantly but politely, and with a dawning interest; "I s'pose you are from the country then, like meself."
"Ah no, ma'am," returned Kate. "I may say I was never three miles away from town. I went into service when I was on'y a slip of a little girl, an' lived with the wan lady till the rheumatic fever took me an' made me what I am now. You're not from this town, I s'pose, ma'am."
"Indeed, I'd be long sorry to come from such a dirty place--beggin' your pardon for sayin' it. No, indeed, I am from the Queen's County, near Mar'boro'. We had the loveliest little farm there ye could see, me an' me poor husband, the Lord ha' mercy on his soul! Aye, indeed, it's little we ever thought--but no matther! Glory be to goodness! my little boy'll be comin' back from America soon to take me out o' this."
"Sure it's well for ye," said Kate, "that has a fine son o' your own to work for ye. Look at me without a crature in the wide world belongin' to me! An' how long is your son in America, ma'am?"
"Goin' on two year now," said Mrs. Brady, with a sigh.
"He'll be apt to be writin' to ye often, I s'pose, ma'am."
"Why then, indeed, not so often. The poor fellow, he was niver much of a hand at the pen. He's movin' about, ye see, gettin' work here an' there."
Sister Louise had moved on, seeing that the pair were likely to make friends; and before ten minutes had elapsed each was in possession of the other's history. Kate's, indeed, was simple enough; her seventeen years in the infirmary being preceded by a quiet life in a very uninteresting neighbourhood; but she "came of decent people," being connected with "the rale ould O'Rorkes," and her father had been "in business"; two circumstances which impressed Mrs. Brady very much, and caused her to unbend towards "Miss Mahony," as she now respectfully called her new acquaintance. The latter was loud in expressions of admiration and sympathy as Mrs. Brady described the splendours of the past; the servant-man and the servant-maid, who, according to her, once formed portion of her establishment; the four beautiful milch cows which her husband kept, besides sheep, and a horse an' car, and "bastes" innumerable; the three little boys they buried, and then Barney--Barney, the jewel, who was now in Amerika.