Then the tears sprang afresh to her eyes, and she told him all the story.
"Put that ring back on your finger again this moment, Mrs. Malony," said the man. "I'm going to let you have just double on the dresses. Oh yes, they're worth it. I won't lose by it. Now off you go and buy the wine."
"Lord love you, Mr. Grant," said the poor woman as she picked up the money. "An' I belave it's yourself that's saved a loife this blissid day."
* * * * *
When Mrs. Malony returned, she found Maggie silently weeping by her mother's bed. Then a great fear got possession of her heart. Had her sacrifice been all in vain? Was the invalid gone? She hastily deposited her purchases on the little table and approached the bed.
Mrs. Mackenzie looked very still and beautiful. She might have been made of wax, or her features chiselled from purest marble.
Mrs. Malony touched her hand that still lay on the coverlet. It was cold. She bent over her, and could hear no breathing.
Was as this indeed death?