ore, stood before her, facing
the crowd of boys, her mild, soft blue eye flashing displeasure, and her
cheeks flushed with a deep pink suffusion.

[Illustration: PAGE 124-- "Shame! oh, for shame!" were the first
exclamations]

"Shame! oh, for shame!" were the first exclamations that escaped her,
and her sweet voice trembled with anger.

"Bedad, it's purty Minny herself, sure enough!" muttered one urchin
to another, as they hesitated what to do, each evidently unwilling to
encounter the reproaches they were sure of receiving; and one or two
scampered off the instant she spoke.

Then turning round to the old woman, and perceiving that her lips looked
dry and parched, she ran to the pitcher, and lifting it to her mouth
with much softness and compassion, exclaimed,

"Poor Nanny, you look dhry, an' here's some wather. Take a little sup,
an' it 'ill revive you! Oh; if I wor here a little bit sooner."

Nanny raised her eyes to thank her, and did as she requested; and it was
indeed a touching thing to see that child in all the budding beauty of
infancy, attending so anxiously on the withered female, whose name was
seldom pronounced without dread or malediction. The urchins looked on
for some time with open mouths and staring eyes; and then, headed
by Briney, giving a farewell shout, to show they were not entirely
disconcerted, bravely took to their heels.

"May the blessins ov the poor and persecuted folly on yer path, my purty
child!" gratefully exclaimed the old woman, as her eyes rested on the
cherub face and infantine figure of her protectress, and they now were
dewy and wet with tears.

"Shall I help you to rise, Nanny?" asked she, her little heart dancing
with pleasure at hearing the fervent wish: "iv you like to go home, an'
you think me sthrong enough, I'll help you on!"

"From my heart I thank you, my purty golden haired child," said the old
woman, as with her assistance she at length stood up; "bud you seem to
know who I am, and I wondher yer not afeard ov me. Minny, I think they
called you--who is the happy father ov my little darlin'?"

"I'm Minny Whelan," gently answered the little girl; upon which Nanny
shrunk hastily back, and a fearful change overspread her features.

"Minny Whelan!--you the proctor's daughter? Those smiling lips--those
tinder, soft eyes--that rich yellow hair--an' that warm an' feelin'
heart, Minny Whelan's. Oh, it can't, it mustn't be--I won't believe id!"

The little girl laughe