"Thot same," proceeded Mrs. Malony, calmly. "But what wid Malony white-washin' me kitchen, an' me pesky hins walkin' in me parlor and me cow breakin' down me fince, sure Oi've had no toime to be traipsin' about."
"Couldn't you go now?" queried Jean, eagerly. "If it is that woman we ought to know it."
"Wait till Oi toi up me cow," consented Mrs. Malony.
The four friends, with Mrs. Malony in tow, picked their way over the badly kept path that led to the shanty.
"The door's been mended," announced observant Marjory.
"It doesn't seem quite proper," said gentle-mannered Jean, "to peek into people's windows. Couldn't we knock and ask in a perfectly proper way to see the lady of the house?"
"Sure we could thot," replied Mrs. Malony.
"Do hurry!" urged Mabel, breathlessly.
There was no response to Jean's rather nervous knock; but when Mrs. Malony applied her stout knuckles to the door there were results. The door was opened cautiously, just a tiny crack at first, then to its full extent. A dark-eyed woman with two thick braids falling over her shapely shoulders confronted them.
She swept a mildly curious glance over Mrs. Malony, over Jean, over Marjory, over Henrietta. Then her splendid eyes fell upon Mabel; they changed instantaneously.