"I should think you very unkind," said Nessa, seriously. "But," she added, "even with your money we have not enough."
"Well, then," exclaimed Murtagh, decidedly, "we can't take her back without the whole rent. We must just hide her up in the mountains, in some safe place, and nobody on earth can make us say where she is if we don't choose."
"Oh, Murtagh!" exclaimed Nessa, "you don't know what you are saying. It would be enough to kill Mrs. Daly. Even if you had not a sou, you must take Theresa back at once. You don't know—" Nessa's voice was choked, she could not finish her sentence. She had witnessed the grief of the patient desolate mother. Only yesterday the poor woman had said to her with quiet hopelessness, "Yes, Ma'am, I'm dying—thank God."
And they could talk of prolonging the pain.
"You don't know," she said. "You meant to be kind, and you did do all you could. But—Mrs. Daly loves Theresa."
She did not trust herself to say any more. Murtagh was looking at her in consternation. Then all they had done had been a mistake. His eyes sought Winnie's. Poor children, they were sorely disappointed!
But Nessa had hardly finished speaking when the door was pushed open, and little Ellie rushed into the room shaking a tin money-box up and down.
"Ellie's dold money! Ellie's dold money!" she exclaimed triumphantly. Her little face was beaming with excitement, and running up to Murtagh she thrust the money-box into his hands.
"Ellie'll dive the money; det it out with the scissors," she said.
"Dear little Ellie!" exclaimed Nessa, taking the child in her arms, while Murtagh tried with a pair of scissors to extract the money from the box.