"Do, sorr; and may heaven be your portion evermore!"
* * * * *
"I'll tell you how I think it can be managed," said Dr. Gregory, a few days after this. "There is a cottage hospital, or rather a home for poor convalescents, down the water. It is partly supported by voluntary contributions, but the patients have to pay a little themselves."
"But," interrupted Mrs. Malony, "the crayture here is as poor as a church-mouse, sorr, and not able to pay. Och, and och!"
"Wait a minute, Mrs. Malony. I have noticed how deft and handy little Maggie here is. She seems really cut out for a nurse. Now, at the home they want just such a wee lass, and she would have food and keep, and wages enough to maintain her mother at the hospital.—Would you like to go, dear?"
"Oh," cried Maggie, "I would be so delighted."
"All right then; I'll see about it at once."
And the doctor did see about it. For a fortnight, however, if not more, Mrs. Mackenzie was not strong enough to be moved. But during all this time she was slowly improving. This was perhaps as much from the fact that she now had hope as from the extra nourishment she received.
Little Johnnie Greybreeks, however, much to his sorrow, was to remain in Glasgow, and live for a time with the Malonies.
Johnnie kept up very bravely, though. He wouldn't have shed a tear before his mother or sister, not even when the day of parting came, for anything. But when in his little bed at night—ah! then I must confess the lad did give way to grief. We must remember he was little more than a child after all.