you be in no hurry to
git married. You're afther havin' a nice face--a kind o' saint's face,
on'y it's a thrifle too solemn to win the men. But if Andy should lave,
ye might be afther doin' better, and ye might be afther doin' worruss
now, Mag. But don't ye git married till ye've got enough to buy a
brocade shawl. Ef ye don't git a brocade shawl afore you're married,
niver a bit of a one'll ye be afther gittin' aftherwards. Girls like us
don't git no money afther they are married, and it's best to lay by
enough to git a shawl beforehand now, Mag. That's me own plan."

A few weeks later Maggie was thrown into grief by hearing of the death
of her mother. Of course she received sympathy from Sylvia. Andy, also
having received a letter from Dora, ventured to call on Maggie to
express in his sincerely simple way his sympathy for her grief, and to
discuss with her what was now to be done for the homeless girl in the
old country.

"We must bring her over, Andy."

"I know that," said the young man. "I'll draw all my money out of the
Shamrock Savings Bank to-morry and send her a ticket. But I'll tell you
what, Mag, after I went away from here the last time I felt sure I'd
never marry Dora Byrne. But maybe I was wrong. Poor thing! I'm sorry
fer her, all alone."

"Sure, now, Andy, you must 'a' made a mistake," said Maggie. "It's
myself as may've given Dora rason to think I'd got a young man down at
Larne. I don't know as she meant to desave you. She needn't, fer you
know I don't keer fer men, neither you nor anybody. I'm goin' into the
Sisters, now my mother's dead. I've spoken to Sister Agnes about it."

But whether it was from her lonely feeling at the death of her mother,
or from her exultation at her victory over her feelings, or whether it
was that her heart, trodden down by her conscience, sought revenge, she
showed more affection for Andy this evening than ever before, following
him to the area gate, detaining him in conversation, and bidding him
goodnight with real emotion.

The next evening Andy came again with a long face. He had a paper in
which he showed Maggie an account of the suspension of the Shamrock
Savings Bank, in which the money of so many Irishmen was locked up, and
in which were all of Andy Doyle's savings, except ten dollars he had in
his pocket.

"Now, Mag, what am I goin' to do? It takes thirty-five dollars for a
ticket. If I put my week's wages that I'll git to-morry on to this, I'm
short half