"I have indeed," replied Maggie Ann simply. "In the pawnshop, it is."
The registrar consulted the telegram as if it contained directions as to the method of redeeming articles from pawn.
"I am authorised by the Ard-miralty to issue two tickets to the next of kin of the deceased." He cleared his throat and contemplated Maggie Ann. "I am prepared to give you one so's you can go to the funeral too."
"There's my married sister," said Maggie Ann reflectively, "with a black dress as would fit me——"
"Get it you from her," commanded the registrar majestically. "An' be at the station at 4 o'clock. I will find a train for you." His manner suggested that trains were things that took even a man a good deal of finding.
He was as good as his word, however. The two quaint figures clad in rusty black, voluble and breathless with the enormity of this adventure, were bundled into a third-class carriage. The registrar handed the elder woman a sheet of directions, and, being a kindly-hearted man, he pressed five shillings into the palm of Maggie Ann's black-cotton-gloved hand. Then he spoke magnificently to the guard—as one brass-bound official to another—and with a wide gesture of farewell that was partly a military salute and partly a parochial benediction he turned on his heel.
The train slowly gathered speed, and the two women sat staring out of the window as if they were hypnotised. Then Maggie Ann opened her clenched palm and displayed the two half-crowns which she held together with the tickets.
"Did 'e give 'em to you?"
"Aye," said Maggie Ann.
"Well, well! Who'd ha' thought it?" said her mother. "Put 'em somewhere safe, Maggie Ann, for fear of robbers." They had the carriage to themselves, and Maggie Ann obeyed her mother accordingly.