Dan said no more then. He went off, as soon as he could, the next morning. And Kitty was to spend another lonely day, for he never came back till it was night.
“Well?” said Kitty, running out to the door to meet him.
“Well, I went up,” said Dan, sitting down upon the settle, and beginning to tell the whole story, “and they both were there, listening, and never said a word, till I happened to mention the old name; something I said about Rosy and Art Heffernan do ye mind? And the name had no sooner crossed me lips when ‘Yoke up!’ says Mickey; ‘and let you come along with me, Dan!’”
“‘For what?’ says Marg.
“What answer he made her, or if he made any at all, I can’t tell you, but away we drove, Mickey and meself. And when we got to the Union, there! wasn’t poor little Rosy in the dead-house too, alongside the mother; the two of them lying there together....”
“The Lord receive them and mark them to grace, I pray!” said Kitty, and she crossed herself.
“Heffernan went straight off,” said Dan; “and he never cried crack, till he had all arranged to have them took to the Furry Farm, back to his own place. And, moreover, has a funeral and wake ordered, in the greatest of style!”
“The Lord reward him, whatever!” said Kitty; “... and the child...? what did they say about her?”
“Whethen now, I dunno,” said Dan, looking a bit ashamed.
“I’ll go bail, you never as much as spoke of her!” said Kitty, quite jealous about Rosy’s baby; “men does be very queer betimes. But you had your share to be talking over!”