“Judy, dear, do you think we would leave you behind? No, dear, not one of us would think of such a cruel thing. We must take you with us, Judy, my poor child!”
“Oh, ma’am, sure and it’s a hivinly angel av goodness ye are and always was, and meself always said it. And I’d go with you, willing, and glad, and grateful, only there’s me poor Mike. If Mike should write to me, or come to see me, what wud he do not to find me?”
“My girl, we would leave word with the adjutant to forward any letters that might come for you, and if your brother should appear in person, to tell him where you were to be found. There! will that do? And remember we are going to New York, and you will see Ran before he sails for England. Come, now! will that do?” archly inquired the colonel’s wife.
“Oh, yis, ma’am! Yis, sure!” exclaimed Judy, her eyes sparkling through her tears. “And sure meself will be the thankful craychur!”
“Creature, Judy.”
“So it is! Creature, ma’am, thank you, and I will learn after a while.”
Mrs. Moseley then left the sitting-room and went to the kitchen to give directions to the soldier’s wife who filled the place of her cook.
Judy laid aside her book and began to put the room in order for the visitors.
Punctually at about fifteen minutes before the dinner hour the colonel came in with Capt. King, a fine, tall, stalwart-looking man with dark complexion, black hair and mustache, and about thirty-five years of age. He introduced the strangers to Mrs. Moseley, who received him cordially, and to “Miss Man,” who only bowed.
They were soon joined by the major, the adjutant and the surgeon, and then all went in to dinner. Judy scarcely opened her lips in speech during the meal, for fear of falling into her dialect. The impromptu dinner party passed off very successfully, and the evening passed gayly.