“Well, when we got to the Union, we were both as wet as if we were after being ducked in the sea. I lifted Rosy down out of the cart, and by good luck we were just in time to get in. They were about shutting the gates.
“But in any case, they would have been hard-set to keep Rosy out! She just ran straight on, and not a word out of her! I managed to get a hold of her arm, and kept her in a bit, till I knew what way we ought to go through that big awful place. I asked here and I asked there, and at last we were put in charge of a young slip of a ... ward-maid, they called her. And she got orders to bring us to a certain ward, and we’d find Mrs. Rafferty there.
“Of all the cold, bare places ... the long passages and the white walls and stone floors ... it would give you the shivers, only to look about you there!
“At last we got to the ward, and you’d wonder where all the old women came from, to fill it! It was as big as the chapel beyant ... but as large as it was, it was small enough for all it had to hold. You could scarcely drop a pin between the beds. And some of the women were asleep and a few lay there middling quiet. But the weight of them were sitting up, talking and laughing, or fighting with one another; and a few were crying to themselves. And most of them had little weeny tin boxes in their hands that they held out, begging you for a pinch of snuff. You’d have to pity them, they were so anxious for it!
“We were brought to a bed at the far end of the room.
“‘There’s Mrs. Rafferty!’ said the ward-maid.
“Rosy stooped down.
“‘Mother!’ says she; and then she gave a start.
“‘That’s not her at all!’ said Rosy.
“‘Are ye sure? Look again!’ said the ward-maid, quite unconcerned.