intindin' it's on'y a thrifle of a few
shillin's they'd be bringin' me. Welcome you are to them, ma'am."

"Sure what use at all 'ud such a thing be to the likes of her?" put in
Mrs. Massey. "It's on'y annoyed you'd be, woman, wid tables and chairs.
And she thrampin' about, you may depind, wid ne'er a place to be
bringin' them to, if she had them twyste over, let alone any way of
movin' them. It's very convanient we are, just round the turn of the
road."

"She might take the little cart and the ould ass along," said Matthew
Wogan, looking at his equipage, which was straying towards them
intermittently as the beast grazed the green border of the lane.
"They're no use to me now. Then there'd be nothin' delayin' her that she
couldn't be cleanin' out of it wid them right away--You needn't throuble
yourself to be liftin' the little stool, Mrs. Massey. What wid fire and
water, that'll be no place to sleep in," he said, pointing to the still
smoking door. "The Mahonys 'ud take us in for to-night, and to-morra
early we're off to me sister's and next day to Queenstown. 'Twill be a
grand thing for the childer to be settled near their uncle Tom, that's
doin' right well in New Jersey, in case anythin' happint me. So I'd as
lief be shut of all that collection, supposin' they'd be any benefit to
this crathur."

"Saints bless us, but you're givin' away all before you, Mr. Wogan,"
said Mrs. Massey, with a discomfited laugh.

"Have you e'er a house you could be puttin' them in?" one of the
harvestmen asked of Mad Bell.

"Ay, bedad," she said. And with that she picked up a chair, and dumped
it down into the cart, which had come to a halt at the door.

This promptitude on her part seemed to settle the question. Without more
ado the rest of the salvage was loaded in, all except the handy-sized
washing-tub, which by means of an adroitly taken up position Mrs. Massey
contrived to have overlooked and left behind, when Mad Bell drove away
with her newly acquired property.

On through the gloaming she drove, till the white dust flakes gathered
up by the wheels grew damp and fragrant with dew, and till the moonlight
was glimmering among the golden sheaves silverly, and till live embers
were fanned out of the ashes low in the east. The small hours had a
frosty chill, and old Ned's short steps were leisurely, and his halts
for refreshment frequent; still Mad Bell continued to sit with serene
patience. She was retracing her route of the day