"No money could repay all your kindness and help."
"Then don't offer it to me. Sure, it's enough that we're all of the same blood, and all I'll want is to know that you get home safe and sound. I'd like to know that," she said wistfully. "Sure my heart's still over there. There, be off with you, or I'll be making a fool of myself."
"I'll write to you, Mrs. Fischer," said Nessa, kissing her.
"Not on your life, child. It's in gaol I'd be in no time, the divils that they all are!" she exclaimed, relapsing into English.
"We'll manage to let you know," I promised, shaking her hand warmly; and we were turning to leave the room when Nessa had a most happy thought.
"We'll send you a sprig of shamrock, dear."
The thought of it broke the dear soul up entirely. "Oh, the blessed darlin'!" she cried, seizing Nessa and kissing her again. "What my ould eyes would give for a sight of it!" and she burst into a passion of sobs. "Go now, go, the pair of ye, or I'll——" Sobs choked her utterance and she leant her head on the table, motioning us to go.
Nessa touched my arm and we stole out, both of us deeply moved by the emotion which Nessa's offer had stirred in the heart of the lonely Irish exile.